The war or rather, the slaughter continued for another hour after Khal Gorro and Ser Harry Strickland, the leaders of the enemy army had been killed.
And as Jon had planned and commanded his two loyal subordinates, not a single man escaped the death circle he had built around the enemy army.
Thirty five thousand men. Every last one of them had been killed. It was a number almost impossible to imagine dying in a single battle. Even if such a large force was somehow defeated, the casualties were never more than a few thousand. But all norms had been shattered that night.
The only beings alive from the enemy army were the horses. Nearly a few thousand of them, the mounts of the Dothraki and the cavalry sellswords had survived and were now scattered across the battlefield. Although a few hundred had managed to flee farther away, most remained close to the site of the slaughter.
Jon had no intention of letting them go freely. His army was in great need of horses, and they came at a costly price. These fine steeds, especially the Dothraki ones, would serve his army well in the future. And the Dothraki one could also be used to breed more horses in the future.
When Grey Worm and Melisandre returned to the front end of the battlefield, the scene before them almost gave them a heart attack.
The ground was soaked with dark red blood, as if the story of the massacre had been painted upon it. Half cleaved bodies, severed legs and arms, and even the inner organs of human bodies were scattered across the battlefield. And mixed among those bodies, here and there were few carcasses of the beasts of Jon's army.
The carnivorous predators of the desert, on the other hand, were feasting on the organs and bodies of the enemies they had just slain. It was a gruesome sight. And event the battle hardened and so hard trained Grey Worm felt a bit of nauseating at the sight. Melisandre was in better condition as over her long life she had seen a lot of things. Things far more brutal and cruel than what she had been seeing now. Only that the scale of this was not something even she had seen.
Standing in the middle of a clearing, surrounded on all sides by the beasts who now were in a restive mood was Jon Snow or Lord Aeos.
Both his hands were holding the two Valyrian swords, and his entire body, from head to toe, was drenched in blood. His hair too was dyed in blood red colour and the only thing that they could make out of his body was his eyes. Eyes which were still blazing with a different kind of power.
And both of them knew in an instant that not a single drop of the blood soaking his body was his own. Every drop belonged to the men he had killed and that number was in the hundreds. The largest of the legendary Essosi Scorpion was standing close to Jon making him appear even more fearsome. Its pincers and legs too were covered in blood and chunks of flesh and organs were stuck on them.
"Lord Aeos," Melisandre and Grey Worm approached him for further commands.
Compared to Grey Worm, Melisandre was more composed and calm. She had a fair idea of what Jon could do and of the scope of his abilities. But Grey Worm was finding it hard to maintain his composure.
His mind struggled to comprehend what had just happened. Thirty five thousand men are all dead. Everything had happened in front of his own eyes but he was still finding it hard to believe.
Days before, when they had learned about the army advancing toward their cities, they had only hoped that, at best, they would be able to repel the enemy army. But to kill them all? He could never have imagined such a thing. Thirty five thousand men was not a number one could slaughter in a single battle.
"How was it?" Jon questioned. His voice, though calm, sent chills down the spines of both Melisandre and Grey Worm.
"None of them escaped," Melisandre replied. "We accomplished what you asked."
"We have won," she added the obvious after a moment of thought. "The victory is ours."
Jon gave a small nod of acknowledgment as he repeated, "Yes. The Victory is ours."
"What do we do now?" Melisandre asked after a few moments of silence.
"Thirty five thousand men being killed when we do not have an army will not be news easily digested by the people."
"This is going to raise a lot of questions," she added. "We need to think of some answers."
Jon let out a small sigh as he pushed both his swords into the ground.
"True," he nodded, turning his head towards the beasts. "It is going to raise a lot of questions."
"There is no justifiable reason that can explain how such a large force could be slaughtered unless the truth is revealed."
"But it is not necessary to reveal the truth," Jon added further. "The truth of what happened on this battlefield will remain buried on this battlefield only."
"What do you mean?" Melisandre questioned, raising her eyebrows.
She had been aware of this part of the plan, but she did not know whether Jon had thought ahead about the aftermath or not.
Still, she knew one thing, Jon was a meticulous planner. He was not the kind of person who would overlook such an important question. He must have already considered what he would tell the world.
Jon let out a smile but with his bloodied face, it looked more like an evil grin.
"You will see," he replied.
Grey Worm and Melisandre both continued to look at him with expressions of confusion, but neither pressed to ask more questions.
"We should return," Jon remarked. "I need to clean myself of this blood and the smell."
"And these creatures?" Melisandre asked hesitantly.
"They too will return once they have had their fill," Jon said, eyeing the beasts who were busy devouring the bodies of the fallen. "We need not worry about them."
Melisandre gave a small nod as both of them started moving towards their horses, which had been tied some distance away. Even so, it would take some time before they could depart. Though the battle had not been hectic for them, the horses of both Melisandre and Jon had grown somewhat tired and would need a few minutes to recover.
They could have taken the Dothraki horses but they liked to ride their own horses.
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