~~~(Point of view: Azrael Sanchez)~~~
~~~~(Date: 275 AC)~~~~
Knowing that no agreement could be reached with people like the Dothraki and that my life could be in danger if I didn't prepare myself to face those people, I decided to open the menu and put on a full suit of netherite armor.
Unable to appreciate the beauty of such an object, I also picked up an netherite sword and held it up.
The sword, with a large blade and a double-handed hilt, made it look like a bastard sword, and its smoky pattern on the blade and its crosspiece of the same material, made it both beautiful and dangerous.
As I was about to go out, a memory came to me, and it was that I didn't know how to fight with a sword, hell, I didn't even know how to fight with my body, because... well, I was a teacher, in the middle of the 21st century, a time when swords were no longer used, and bows were used only on hunting occasions or in some Olympic sport.
So I knew that, even if I went out with full armor and a sword, against the Dothraki, who were known for their brutality and great knowledge of battles, I would only be a child facing a bear, basically a pig for slaughter.
So I quickly opened the menu and looked for something to help me, and boy did I find it—in the form of potions. Sure, I didn't know if they might have side effects on my body, but right now they were my lifeline.
So, knowing that it was still night, I took a night vision potion, and, having it already in my hand, I didn't think much about it and ingested it.
Unlike what I thought at first, the potion did not taste bad; in fact, it had no taste; it was like drinking water. Yes, after drinking it, I felt the change in my body, more specifically in my eyes.
Where before there was the shadow created by the lanterns hanging from the ceiling, and for which I had to make an effort to see the wood obscured by the shadows, now that was no longer a problem for me, I saw everything as if it were daytime, as if the darkness had left, and I could see everything as it would be.
Letting a few seconds pass, and knowing that apart from being able to see everything correctly, and not feeling any other strange symptoms, I decided to take the other potions.
This time I ingested a strength potion, and what a boost I felt! While the sword was not heavy, as it would have the same weight as a liter bottle of water, it now felt like grabbing the empty bottle. It was amazing.
"Peng!"
I heard a noise outside; apparently, they had broken one of the flashlights I had left outside, remembering that they might soon want to get into the cabin.
So without wasting any more time, I drank the quickness and jumping potions, and if I felt good before, now it felt like floating, filling me with a lot of security in that feeling.
Finally, I took a totem of immortality, and with the help of a string, I hung it around my neck like a necklace. I remembered that for it to work, I had to have it in my hand, but knowing that I might need my other hand free in case I needed to throw one or another potion of poison or weakness, I decided to leave it where I had it, near my reach.
Feeling confident enough with all my previous preparations, I headed for the door and almost crashed through it; apparently, I was faster than I thought possible.
Taking courage, and knowing that from this encounter I would decide whether I would live or not, I opened the door and stepped outside.
What greeted me was a group of Dothraki, what looked like a small Khalasar, of at least about four thousand warriors, and perhaps double that number in women and others who were behind the Dothraki on their horses.
When I came out, most of them stared at me for a moment as I watched as some had the hut surrounded.
"Chiftik ifak" the one who looked like the leader or Khal, spoke in his guttural and coarse language, causing those near him to laugh.
Knowing that I was their source of amusement, I felt angry: "Savages, I have nothing against you; go away and leave me alone."
I didn't know if they understood my words, since I had just spoken to them in Spanish, so I repeated the same words to them in English, Chinese, and even Latin.
However, the Dothraki seemed to be laughing at my efforts, until one of them brought a woman to the front.
The man, after bringing the woman, and seeing that she said nothing, struck her on her back with a small whip, causing the woman to let out a small gasp of pain.
The woman, fearing that she would be hit again, began to speak, and every word she said seemed to sound in a different language.
'Translator' I thought, at least these savages weren't so precocious, or maybe I had stumbled upon a different-minded group.
"Hello" until the woman spoke to me in Latin, albeit one with a heavy accent and horrible pronunciation; at least I understood her.
"Hello, I am Azrael. I don't know what your purpose here is, but I would appreciate it if you would leave me alone," I said to the girl, waiting for her to say my words to the one who looked like the Khal.
Without wasting time, the girl communicated with her Khal, only to have him laugh and reply.
"My Khal says you are now his slave and that you will surrender your sword and armor to him, as well as any possessions you have." What absolute bullshit! I didn't gain my power and get this new start to end up a fucking slave.
"You can tell your master to go to hell; if he doesn't know how to go, I'll gladly create a door for him; I won't be his slave." The girl paused to take in my words, until she said them to her Khal, causing him to become enraged and signal to some Dothraki standing next to him.
The Dothraki, with their arakh, dismounted from their horses, and one approached me. With his arakh in his hand, he approached me, ready to poke me, so, deciding to defend myself, I grabbed my sword and, with surprising speed, struck his arakh with the blade of my weapon.
"Clink!"
The sound of metal against metal came, and at the same time, I saw how his arakh was split in two, leaving the Dothraki who wanted to kill me, surprised.
Seizing the opportunity, I quickly approached the man, and with a swing of my sword, I pierced his neck, from which blood gushed out in heaps, while the poor man covered his wound with his hands, trying to stop his bleeding, only for him to be unsuccessful and fall on the sand.
When the man fell to the ground, I lifted my head from the person I had just killed and saw the Khal more furious than he was before; apparently, I had made him even angrier.