Ronan whistled at the sight.
It's not every day that one gets to see a giant horse with limped legs scrambling to get up... much less get away...
Courtesy of a certain tactic he learnt when it came to dealing with big things... from Attack on Titan.
Severing tendons and targeting joints.
Aided with the fact that his Gilgabronze armor blended him too well... with a certain Bronze Fury...
So when he had the distracting dragons flock towards the charging stallion... his descent was masked and his diving attack on that foreleg worked wonders.
And from there it was just a matter of kiting around the toppled and tumbling horsey... utilizing blind spots and especially utilizing the suit's flight mechanism that he'd embedded, mastered, and improved.
Ditching the Green Goblin platform mechanic of the Bronze Crescent and the flapping necessity of Bronzorus... to achieve a flight showcase like Superman's...
In any case, the other horsey legs were targeted and this Dothraki horse god seemed none the wiser.
On that note, Ronan wondered if this actually was the fabled Dothraki horse god?
Cause it seemed... pitifully weak.
Not god-like at all.
Meaning that his decision to hastily handle this threat was such an overestimation.
So, he wondered if this was just some divine descendant with diluted god blood?
A mutant freak that is product of the Dothraki's horse breeding practices?
Or... this could actually just be the literal Great Stallion?
A magical creature... that was overblown into a diety by the ignorant locals.
Making it so that this could very well be a repeat of the Thousand Islands situation all over again.
And some glazing about being a god slayer are probably about to come his way...
But the slaying can wait... since Ronan's considerations were mostly on the true benefits that he considered more worthwhile.
Which were the buckets and buckets of blood that he was already calculating relative to the size of this mighty catch...
And, of course, the potentially potent soul of this big old thing.
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The surviving and spared Dothraki could only watch.
Truthfully... there was little else left for them to do.
The city was conquered.
And they were the ones left alive because they surrendered and offered no form of resistance during the attack.
It was not the Dothraki way... it was a shameful way... but that was the only way they had left.
To renounce was to survive... in shame.
While to remain stubborn was to die... with their proud culture.
It also helped that they were mostly the youths that grew up under the threat of the Royces... and the rest are crying babes that don't even know what is happening...
Either way, any resistance coming from them would just amount to nothing.
For their most experienced of elders have been slain.
And even the Great Stallion itself had fallen.
Not in some glorious battle either.
Not after shaking the heavens and trampling armies beneath its hooves.
No...
It had been brought down almost embarrassingly fast.
One moment it had burst from the Mother of Mountains like a force of nature.
Its raging appearance grandly seen from their very plain and flat capital city...
But that was all...
For it didn't take long for the fabled god to be assailed by the dragons and then be collapsing into the dirt.
Its legs useless.
Its sounds becoming desperate. Even fearful.
Its attempts to stand growing increasingly pathetic.
The sight left many Dothraki speechless.
Some cried.
Some stared blankly.
Others simply lowered their heads.
For generations beyond counting... they had believed the Great Stallion watched over them.
Since it was their religion.
And they could only look on as it was being dragged away.
Dragged. Like some simple animal being brought to slaughter.
The bronze warriors near them did not appear particularly impressed either. Just used to it...
Some pointed at the creature.
Others discussed practical matters.
Chains.
Measurements.
Transportation.
One knight could be heard arguing over how much meat the thing would provide.
The sheer disrespect was almost harder to witness than the defeat itself.
And after some while... some of them has even glimpsed at Ronan Royce in the flesh.
The man responsible for everything.
The destroyer of khalasars.
The master of many dragons.
The conqueror of the Great Grass Sea.
The man who had reduced the Dothraki from masters of the plains... into refugees within their own sacred city.
And the mortal who is most probably responsible for taking down that god.
In so many ways, be it the spared or the slaves that are about to be freed folk... one just has the urge to stare at him.
Not out of hatred or gratitude... but out of awe and respect...
For the magnificence of this god hunter! This eventual god slayer!
Identities that made his following speech all the more effective.
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But since all of it were said in a language that the Dothraki raised never bothered to understand... it was later translated and compacted to the curious ones to be about...
Celebrating and commending his warriors... who all cheered back in loud unity...
And to no surprise... he gave freedom to the slaves kept in the city... and offering them opportunities that he expounded upon after...
With a certain focus on tending to... and breeding horses... for reasons obvious enough... but then it included the raising of many other animals.
And then... it went on to something about farming, planting, and 'agriculture'.
For the god bane clad in bronze revealed his grand plans for the Great Grass Sea...
Which involved turning it into a "Biodiverse" Sea...
Which he then corrected just later to become Biodiverse Sea T.
The T at the end was apparently important.