In Tyrosh, many high-ranking mages reside, and upon receiving a letter from Wright, they immediately began packing their belongings to prepare for battle. However, a letter sent from Sunspear disrupted their plans.
The letter was from Sauron, requesting the mages to create a set of enchanted armor.
The mages looked at the blueprint sent along with the letter, which was thick and folded like a book. After discussing it, the mages confirmed that Tyrosh's best blacksmith could not make it, so they would have to craft it themselves.
Sauron, the heir of Tyrosh, needed the armor for battle, and the mages immediately set to work preparing the forge. As for the materials and production costs, Sauron wrote in the letter that it would be charged to Wright.
While mages from various regions quickly gathered in King's Landing, humans had already begun fighting back against the White Walkers, and Wright and Renly used the mobility of their dragons to offer support wherever needed.
According to Robb's tactical arrangements, the White Walker army's ranks were stretched long. These battles didn't require direct confrontation; they could kill as many wights as possible, retreating quickly if the situation turned unfavorable. The aim was to exhaust a third of the enemy's forces by the time the White Walkers reached the snowline.
The Raventree Hall, also known as Raventree Hall, got its name from a giant Weirwood Tree that once stood at the center of a small hill in the castle. Every evening, flocks of ravens would roost on the tree, but the tree had long since died. The Brackens claimed that the tree was poisoned by the Bracken.
After fierce battles at Moat Cailin, the White Walker army had entered their own territory. The Westerlands and Riverlands were discussing how to give them a taste of their own medicine. On Willem's suggestion, the battle would take place near Raventree Hall, using an all-cavalry force supported by mages for a surprise attack on the wight army.
"Robb really dares to think, having us knights dig up graves!"
"Get to work, the mages are coming."
Two knights from the Westerlands were at the public cemetery outside Raventree Hall, digging through the grave dirt with shovels until they reached the coffins. Other knights arrived with wheelbarrows, and a mage placed a jar filled with wildfire on top of one of the coffins.
In the Riverlands, where families near the river had a tradition of water burials, the corpses would be consumed by fish and shrimp. Other families still practiced traditional earth burials. Due to the rushed retreat, many corpses had not been cleaned up in time.
Where there were Seven Gods churches, the bodies were stored in underground crypts, and those in the crypts had been burned, but there were still many wild cemeteries. These were the main source of the White Walkers' army, and Robb had arranged a cemetery ambush strategy.
The first time the corpses in the graveyards were awakened, the White Walkers needed to be close, and the powerful wildfire was waiting for them. If the wights weren't replenished, the constant harassment by human forces would quickly deplete their numbers.
The vast cemetery stretched across several hills. The knights digging the graves stood in a row, digging a hole every five meters in the ground. This was the maximum range of the wildfire jars placed underground.
After finishing the digging and setting up the wildfire in the morning, the knights retreated into the woods to wait. By afternoon, a dozen White Walkers arrived with their wight army to replenish their forces.
Corpses broke open the coffins, and many more simply crawled out of the dirt. The White Walkers, surprised, saw that familiar jars were being brought up from the soil by the wights.
Having already experienced the power of wildfire at Moat Cailin, the White Walkers had never encountered such a situation. They paused their spells and gathered to discuss.
The southern weather was gradually warming, which was very uncomfortable for the White Walkers. The magic within them began to boil with the rising temperature, which meant that controlling the wights required more magic.
The White Walkers' thinking was slow, and after half an hour of discussion, they scattered to continue reviving the corpses. The farther south they went, the harder it was for them to fight. They needed these corpses.
Just as they were digging with enthusiasm, several fireballs shot toward the cemetery from the mountain top.
The White Walkers quickly ordered the wights to block the fireballs with their bodies. Even raising a wall of ice with magic proved futile. The cemetery was filled with jars, many of which had already been opened, and the green wildfire spilled out everywhere. A single spark could ignite it.
Boom!
The explosion of one jar of wildfire immediately set off nearby jars, and the green flames quickly spread across the entire cemetery.
"Now, this is satisfying! Worth all the work this morning!" Harry Bracken, observing from the mountaintop, clenched his fist and slammed the ground in excitement.
"Get on your horses, prepare for the attack," Willem said, rising from the snow and running down the hillside.
The cemetery was engulfed in green fire, and after it burned out, a few unfortunate White Walkers were killed by the wildfire. The remaining dozen had more magic within them and used ice magic to resist the flames. As they gathered the wights to prepare for their retreat, a rumbling sound of hooves was heard from afar.
The cavalry's charge formation had been adjusted, and the mages were no longer protected by the cavalry in the rear. Instead, ten young mages rode at the front. Half of them were to use long-range magic to suppress the Others, while the other half were to use magical shields to defend against the magic cast by the Others.
Against a few thousand fully-armed knights eager for revenge, the dozen or so Others without wights stood no chance. After suffering only minor casualties, several ice-crystal heads that hadn't been crushed by the horses' hooves were taken as trophies.
By the time the Night King arrived to lead the wight army for reinforcements, the human cavalry had already disappeared, having run into the mountains where even the hoofprints in the muddy ground were erased.
This was the land of the Riverlanders, and the mages were responsible for detecting the movements of the Others. The cavalry units moved stealthily, launching attacks from the mountains near the Weirwood Hall. Wherever the number of wights was small, they would be attacked within half an hour. Slowly, the Others retreated into the Weirwood Hall castle.
Outside the Raventree Hall lay a vast plain, which had once been fertile farmland, now overrun with undead creatures that were nothing more than skeletal remains.
On a mountain top in the distance, Willem, wearing a tattered lion-embroidered cloak, had been through fierce battles these past days.
"Have you ever heard of the Others besieging a city?"
Harry carefully recalled the legends and knowledge of the Others: "I don't think I've ever heard of that."
Willem pulled out a gold pocket watch and checked the time. "That must have been the vampire's idea, to have them hide inside the city."
"What now? We are cavalry, we can't besiege a city. Are we really just waiting until spring?" Harry couldn't think of how to deal with the Others hiding in a stronghold.
Willem smiled widely. "Every human town has a mage tower. Even if the Others occupy a city, the mage tower will still be under our control."
"The mage tower?" Harry looked up at the highest tower of Raventree Hall.
Sure enough, less than two minutes after they spoke, a crow-shaped sigil appeared floating above the tower. It then transformed into a red arrow, pointing downward at the castle, and began hovering, moving up and down.
The Night's Watch had raised small white spiders for nearly ten years. Their silk products weren't needed by ordinary folk, but the mages had plenty. Aside from being fire-sensitive, they were cheap and easy to use.
A thick thread of spider silk, about the size of a little finger, stretched from the Weirwood Hall's magic control room through the smallest gap in the castle, across the land, buried in the soil, and finally reached the mountaintop. Several mages were using it to remotely control the magic array on the detection tower.
"What's the use of this red arrow? Is it telling us to attack here?" Harry asked again.
Willem smiled happily. "Wait and see."
The two of them lay in the snow, waiting.
At the cavalry's rest area in the mountains, although it hadn't been a major victory, the shift from passive defense to active harassment had killed many of the Others, greatly boosting the morale of the knights and soldiers. Edmure wore a smile wherever he went.
"Lord Edmure!" Ser Brynden, the head of House Blackwood, rode over.
Brynden did not dismount. Edmure looked up, shielding his eyes from the sun. "What is it?"
"Why has the raven sigil on my family's turned into an arrow? Is there an attack plan?" Brynden had learned of this through some of his family's scouts.
Edmure laughed heartily. "Ah, you guessed it! That red arrow is a signal for our allies, indicating that there are Others inside the castle who can be attacked."
Brynden still didn't dismount. He looked down at Edmure and asked, "We have the cavalry and mages here, but our infantry is hundreds of miles away. Who else will come to our aid?"
Edmure raised his hand, fingers together, and moved his little finger up and down. "Of course, it's the things that fly in the sky—dragons!"
"You~~!" Brynden spun his horse around, his tone filled with fury. "Edmure, that's my family's castle! Are you sending dragons to help so you can turn my home into Harrenhal?"
Edmure was also angered and shouted loudly, "The bigger picture! You need to think about the bigger picture. If dragons don't burn the Others, Raventree Hall will become their stronghold."
The two's argument spread, and knights from the Tully family began to gather around them.
"Edmure!" An angry Brynden pulled his reins to steady his agitated warhorse. "Who came up with this strategy?"
The Riverlanders didn't believe that Edmure had such a tactical mind.
"I did." Edmure was about to take credit for the plan when his uncle, Brynden the Blackfish, stopped him.
The two men were both named Brynden. The Brynden of House Tully was a renowned and skilled warrior, known for his might, while the Brynden of House Blackwood had the same name, given to him by his father out of respect for the old lord.
"This is the result of our military meeting," Blackfish answered for Edmure.
"Was it Harry Bracken?" Brynden yelled the question but didn't wait for an answer. "Was it Willem?"
Brynden looked at the expressions of those around him and realized it was Willem from the West who had proposed the plan. He flicked his whip, urging his horse toward the castle, turning back viciously to shout, "Edmure! You've ruined my house!"
Spurring his horse to the mountaintop, Blackwood family members and knights were already there. This was the place they had grown up; from this mountaintop, one could clearly see the entire castle.
"Brynden, did you find out?" his brother Alyn asked.
Brynden collapsed to the ground, groaning, "It's over!"
The surrounding brothers gathered around him, asking, "What do you mean, it's over?"
"Raventree Hall is finished!"
Brynden turned his gaze to the castle. He was merely the heir of House Blackwood, a small knight, powerless to stop the strategy set by Edmure and Willem.
Moreover, this was in execution of the strategy from the overall commander, Robb. And with the coming of a dragon, Brynden could do nothing to stop it. Several dragon-riders hadn't joined the battle—either it was Petvahaaz, the King's dragon with white and red stripes, or Odahviing.
Brynden thought for a moment and decided it was better to climb to the mountaintop and get one last look at the family castle.
The cold wind blew, the sky clear without a cloud. Only those with excellent vision could see a small black dot quickly approaching in the sky.
More and more people lifted their heads to look at the sky. The black dot was moving at an incredible speed, leaving behind a blue magical ripple, indicating some kind of acceleration magic had been activated.
The White Walkers in Raventree Hall also noticed the strange event in the sky. The wights began to spill out from every opening in the castle—some jumping through windows, others climbing walls, using magic to jump as far as they could.
They were too slow, or perhaps the black dot was just too fast.
From the mountaintop, Willem and Harry could see the dot, and in less than five breaths, they could make out its shape.
"It's Wright! Hahaha!" Harry jumped to his feet, laughing, no longer worried about the White Walkers finding them.
Willem also stood up. "I promised you I would help."
Harry sincerely looked at Willem and bowed deeply. "Thank you! Now that the Blackwoods has lost its castle, our two houses are back at the same starting point."
Willem hurriedly reached out to help him up. "We are the best of friends! Friends with a shared oath!"
The two turned back toward Raventree Hall. The white-and-red-backed dragon was covered in an eerie magical glow as it rushed toward the castle. Above its head, a knight clad in bone armor crouched, holding onto the dragon's scales with both hands. A series of magical beams shot from his arms, feeding into the dragon's body, spreading to every part of it.
With a deafening roar, the dragon exhaled explosive golden-red dragonflame from its mouth. Odahviing slightly adjusted its wings to change its flight direction.
Buzz~~~
The massive body brushed past the treetops, flying at incredible speed.
"Ahhh~~~" The wind from the dragon's wings felt like a storm, knocking both of them off balance, unable to open their eyes. They could only clutch tightly to the tree trunks to prevent being blown away.
When the storm passed and the snow fell, Willem and Harry emerged, their heads poking through the snow.
"I almost got blown away! That was terrifying!"
"If I had been scratched by its toenail, I'd have been turned into meat paste!"
They climbed out of the snow, brushing themselves off, constantly marveling at the experience.
When they reached the mountaintop again, they saw an orange-red giant candle glowing persistently in the middle of the snowy plain.
Raventree Hall was melting like a candle. The buildings at the top had disappeared, turned into flowing lava. The bottom parts of the castle were submerged in molten rock, leaving only a few stone bases jutting out above the lava.
The golden-red light bathed Willem and Harry's faces.
"Dragonflame really can melt stone," Harry said.
Willem nodded. "I can now understand how desperate Harren the black must have felt when he died at Harrenhal."
The sound of horns echoed through the mountains—not for an attack, but for a retreat.
Raventree Hall was destroyed. Everything inside had been turned into part of the lava, and the scattered wights outside the castle were gradually falling.
In a couple of days, when the lava cools, the once mighty Raventree Hall would become a lump of black, hard stone.
Wright and Odahviing didn't return to Raventree Hall but instead flew south to reinforce Renly's forces.
The human cavalry fought and fled. Wright, too, fought and fled, no longer interested in lingering on the battlefield, waiting for the wight army to gradually fall into the human rhythm of war, as planned.