"I really envy people who have powerful backers," Dany sighed helplessly.
The will of the Cold God was immense. In an instant, it dragged her and the Three-Eyed Raven into a dark, icy abyss of death. However, their spiritual power was not weak either. They were only caught off guard, and it did not take long for them to recover.
Unfortunately, that brief period was enough for the Night King's soul to circle the world a hundred times.
It escaped.
"From the very beginning, you should have had this awareness. Either satisfy R'hllor's demands and follow the predetermined fate, and He would restrain the Cold God while humanity focused on dealing with the Night King.
Now, you have made your choice and changed destiny. The true gods are standing aside to watch. Our encounter with the Cold God has become inevitable.
Today is only the beginning. From now on, you must grow accustomed to dealing with the Cold God, R'hllor, and other dark demon gods.
You have no retreat, and no backers to rely on. Because, as the strongest among humanity, you yourself are the backer of others," the Three-Eyed Raven said solemnly.
"I didn't expect you to have such high awareness," Dany said in surprise.
"The Three-Eyed Raven has always been Westeros's backer. We have carried heavy responsibilities, walking alone through the history of the human kingdoms. We are long accustomed to it," Bran said calmly.
"Heh. Say you've put on weight and you really start panting? If not for your constant meddling, the world would be a better place."
When Big Black's soul left the sea of consciousness, its body lost control and naturally fell toward the ground.
But although the pursuit seemed long in description, it had actually happened within a single breath. Big Black's belly armor was still sliding across the snow when Dany had already brought his soul back to his body.
At that moment, the Night King's soul had also begun a second life within a new body.
"Seven gods, wasn't the Night King dead? Why have these wights come back to life?"
Amid the desperate screams of Old Ba and the others, all the Others and wights on the snowfield lit up once more with faint blue glows in their eyes, like Terminators fully recharged. They mechanically climbed to their feet and sprinted across the snow with incredible speed.
They were retreating.
"The Night King isn't dead. Continue the battle!" Dany descended from midair, landing on Big Black's back and shouting loudly.
"Continue the battle with whom? Where is the Night King?" Arya asked, gripping her dagger, her expression bewildered.
"The Others and wights are fleeing. Kill them all!" Dany said casually. Without waiting for the others to respond, she mounted Big Black and began cleansing the ground with dragonfire.
This time, she truly did so without restraint.
There was no Night King, no Cold God, no anti-fire domain. The dark firmament had dispersed. The sky was a bleak gray-white, and visibility was better than ever.
Dany was still in her double-overclocked state. Big Black flew almost贴着 the ground, and the dragonfire he spewed was like a hundred-meter-wide broom, sweeping blackened trails across the pristine white snowfield. Corpses burned, thick black smoke billowed, and the stench of charred flesh spread across the vast snowy plain.
"This is too exaggerated. If she had fought like this earlier… Compared to a dragon, we people seem rather useless," Jaime said, deeply shaken, his face full of dejection.
"She didn't dare to do this before," Jon said seriously. "Now that it's daylight, the dragon and the Dragon Queen can clearly see threats from the ground, which is why she can fight so freely.
If the Night King were still present, gathering more than ten Others along with the anti-fire domain would certainly be enough to severely wound the dragon.
Therefore, the city walls and the defending army are by no means useless. Dragons working in coordination with human soldiers, dividing responsibilities and covering one another, that is the path to victory."
Recalling how earlier it had been so dark that they could only identify the wights and their attacks by the blue glow of their eyes, Jaime nodded silently, his expression improving considerably.
Arya looked around, spotted a large raven pecking at a strip of pale flesh on a wight's cheek, and walked over to ask, "Why isn't the Night King dead? I clearly killed him."
The raven swallowed the blood-stained white meat before replying, "The Night King can control the Others just as a skinchanger controls animal companions. You understand now, don't you?"
"The Night King is also a skinchanger?" Arya's expression darkened.
"In fact, the first Other and the first Night King were both greenseers! The meditation method of the Others is ninety percent similar to that of the greenseers. Your 'Holy Scripture of Death' was created on the foundation of the meditation methods of the Others and the greenseers."
"Does that mean the Night King can never truly be killed?" Jon found it hard to accept.
"No, he has already died. Uncle Benjen's will has completely dissipated, and only then was the true Night King born," Bran said, his tone complicated.
"What do you mean? Wasn't the previous one the Night King?" Jaime frowned at the raven with blood at the corner of its beak.
"He was the Night King, but not the complete form. You must have noticed that Benjen Stark could occasionally seize control of the Night King's body.
At those times, the anti-fire domain would disappear. The ice power that automatically surged toward him would vanish. The piercing northern wind would slow down.
It could be said that, aside from the appearance of an Other, he lost all the talents and abilities that belonged to the Night King.
At that moment, he was simply Benjen Stark, a human!
The reason for this was that the ritual that transformed him into the Night King seemed to have gone wrong and was only half completed.
Most of the time, Benjen was unable to seize control of the Night King's body, but his will never disappeared.
A Night King who possesses human emotions is naturally a failed, incomplete product.
Therefore, the Night King was destined to attack Winterfell, and the Cold God was destined to destroy Winterfell."
"To complete the Night King's final transformation from Benjen Stark into the Night King, he had to personally destroy his own home and kill his closest kin," Bran explained.
"That sounds far too mystical," said Jorah Dayne, his face full of suspicion. "You never told us about this before. You didn't even reveal the slightest hint about the Night King's true identity."
Jon frowned, his expression displeased. "If you knew all this, why didn't you make things clear earlier?"
"At the time, it was only a guess. I wasn't certain." A trace of human helplessness flickered in the great raven's eyes. "Jon, do you remember how the Horn of Winter was found?"
"The horn that brought down the Wall?" Jaime exclaimed. "Can a single horn really cause the Wall to collapse?
I've never been to the Wall in my life, but I've always heard it's like a mountain range. It was supposed to stand until the end of time."
"It sounds unbelievable, but it's already a confirmed fact. The Night's Watch at Eastwatch saw it with their own eyes," Barristan said, jerking his chin toward Winterfell. "Before today, could you have imagined such a thing?"
Gazing at the towering mountain of ice, those who still harbored doubts fell silent.
Bran continued, "The wildlings were right. For thousands of years, the Horn of Winter lay in Joramun's tomb. But how did it reappear?
What humans forgot, the Others remembered. They dug it out.
Five years ago, when Jon found the Horn of Winter buried beneath stones on the Fist of the First Men, it was no accident.
At that time, the Others had just unearthed the horn and had just transformed Benjen.
Back then, Benjen's will had not completely fallen asleep. He did not wish to destroy mankind, so he stole the horn, intending to leave it for the Night's Watch."
"How is that possible?" Jon shook his head repeatedly, unable to believe it. The others also looked incredulous.
Bran sighed and said slowly, "Others may not understand the significance of the Fist of the First Men, but Jon, you were once Lord Commander of the Night's Watch. Don't you know?"
The Fist of the First Men was a hill that rose abruptly within the haunted forest, steep in terrain with excellent visibility, and a small river flowing at its base. It was one of the few strategic strongholds beyond the Wall.
If Daenerys were made queen of the Seven Kingdoms and knew of such a place, she would certainly build a watchtower on its summit to serve as an outpost against wildlings and the Others.
In fact, even before the first Long Night, the First Men had built a crude ringfort on the mountaintop, a circle of grey stone walls as high as a man's chest.
Thus, to this day, the Fist of the First Men remains an important base for the Night's Watch when they venture north of the Wall.
When Old Mormont led the Night's Watch beyond the Wall to investigate the movements of the wildlings and the Others, he chose the Fist of the First Men as their encampment, preparing to block any attacking wildlings and Others there.
Then the Others taught that group of Night's Watchmen, who had forgotten their ancestors and their history, a harsh lesson.
"Benjen had served as a ranger for more than a decade and had stayed at the Fist of the First Men countless times. By hiding the Horn of Winter there, he hoped that other rangers would find it and carry it south of the Wall.
To alert the Night's Watch, he even placed a bundle of dragonglass beside the horn. Unfortunately, no one understood his meaning," Bran said helplessly.
Jon carefully recalled the scenes of discovering the horn and gradually accepted Bran's explanation.
"Why didn't Uncle Benjen leave a letter and make everything clear?" he asked hoarsely.
"He wasn't a maester. How could he carry pen and paper with him at all times? Moreover, he had already been transformed into the Night King. To defy the Night King's instinct to destroy the living, steal the Horn of Winter, and bury it beneath the Fist of the First Men was already the limit of what he could do."
"Then why didn't the Night King retrieve the horn afterward?" Barristan asked, frowning.
Jon gave a bitter smile. "Now that I think about it, they really did try. Not long after Commander Mormont led us to the Fist of the First Men, the army of wights surrounded us. After that, they even pursued the Night's Watch all the way to Craster's Keep."
Bran continued, "I know what happened in the past, but I cannot deduce the Night King's condition.
Only after combining everything that happened today and witnessing the Night King's soul awaken to a second life did I arrive at this conclusion."
The Hound shot the great raven an impatient look. "I don't care about Benjen Stark's will. Tell me clearly: can the Night King be killed, and how are we supposed to kill him?"
"In truth, we nearly killed him before." The raven's red eyes turned toward Arya, his gaze complicated. "If we had waited a little longer and let Daenerys handle the Night King, there was a strong chance she could have destroyed his soul outright.
She possesses a special form of sorcery specifically meant to deal with beings that possess undying souls."
"An undying soul? That sounds terrifying. Did the previous Night King also have an undying soul?" Jaime frowned. "How did Azor Ahai end the Long Night?"
"Yes. The red sword can also slay the Night King. Perhaps we need to forge a second, a third, or even more red swords."
Bran looked at the Dragon Queen in the distance as she rode her dragon, sweeping away corpses, and said thoughtfully, "Let's discuss this after Daenerys returns."
Jaime's expression turned rather strange at those words. "I heard from the Red Woman that forging the red sword requires sacrificing one's only true love. That's why Azor Ahai plunged the newly forged blade into his wife's heart.
Does the Dragon Queen intend to sacrifice her king consort?
She doesn't have one right now. If forging a red sword means sacrificing a king consort, then…"
He glanced around at the people nearby, the corner of his mouth twitching. "I wonder if anyone would be willing to volunteer."
The Little Crab shuddered and shrank his neck, deciding that once he returned to Claw Isle this time, he would get married immediately.
As for being the queen's consort, whoever wanted the role could have it.
(End of chapter)
Want to read the chapters in Advance? Join my Patreon
https://patreon.com/Glimmer09