Another full day was spent as the Dragon Queen thawed the two castles, the main keep and the guest castle, from the ice.
Along with them, the training grounds, stables, warehouses, smithy, kitchen, and other essential living facilities around the castles were restored to normal.
Inside the main keep, in a living room where the fireplace blazed brightly.
"At that time the red-robed woman had gooseflesh and white hair, like a centenarian on the verge of death. But she did not die. I saw her eyes," Arianne said, lost in memory. "Her red eyes were beautiful, but at that moment the red seemed to fade, turning into a dull, lifeless light blue."
"It seemed her original eyes should have been blue," Arianne speculated.
"In other words, when those three Knights of the Fiery Heart carried the red-robed woman into the crypt, there was still the vitality of a living person in her eyes," Dany said with a frown.
"Not just her eyes. Her hands were also moving," corrected Obara, the eldest of the Sand Snakes, who stood nearby.
Given the status of Arianne and the Sand Snakes, they had naturally been among the first group to enter the crypts. Accompanying them were the Knights of the Fiery Heart carrying two "corpses."
In times of crisis, great nobles were given priority to escape. Only after they were safe did the lesser nobles follow, then the knights, then the servants who served the great nobles, and finally the ordinary soldiers.
The reason Sansa had been stuck outside was because, as the lady of Winterfell, she needed to appear calm and magnanimous.
As a result, she nearly died with the child in her womb.
"The red-robed woman took out a ruby leather choker from her pocket and held it trembling in her palm. The ruby emitted a brilliant red light, and her hair and eyes were dyed red again. Then she truly returned to her original appearance.
"After that, she had the Knights of the Fiery Heart place Stannis's corpse into the hot spring pool to soak. They waited for the ice fragments to melt and for his body to soften. Then they stripped off all his clothes."
As if recalling something unsuitable for children, the Dornish princess's cheeks flushed slightly. Her eyes grew moist, and she licked her thick, sensual lips before continuing.
"Melisandre led those three knights to kneel beside the pool, chanting the Red God's prayer: 'The night is dark and full of terrors.'
"Then the red-robed woman lowered her head and kissed Stannis's pale lips. He suddenly sat up, as if waking from a nightmare, his face filled with deep fear and confusion."
The firelight from the fireplace flickered, casting twisted shadows across Arianne's olive-toned face.
"It was terrifying. Nymeria screamed loudly at the time and almost started crying."
The elegant woman beside her, with long braids, blushed and punched her cousin lightly on the back.
"Didn't you scream too?" she said in annoyance.
Arianne glanced at the Dragon Queen, who looked curious, and said awkwardly, "It wasn't because I was cowardly. I knew Melisandre intended to resurrect Stannis. But you know that Stannis had two wounds that pierced through his chest and back."
She gestured at her own full left breast.
"A hole that big, straight through the heart. I thought his heart had already shattered into icy fragments. You could see straight through from front to back. Yet he still lived."
Jon could not help rubbing his waist. It had once been pierced by countless knives as well.
Dozens of Night's Watch brothers had held blades in their hands, cursing him with twisted faces as a "oathbreaker" and a "disgrace to the Night's Watch," stabbing hole after hole into his body.
But those who attacked him had been ordinary men with ordinary weapons, while Stannis had been pierced through the chest by the Night King's ice sword and by his own Lightbringer.
The coldest ice and the hottest fire.
A clash of ice and fire. Burned and shattered.
It was truly miserable.
"The wound on his chest didn't heal?" Jon asked in confusion.
He himself had so many wounds, yet after his resurrection they had disappeared instantly, leaving not even a scar.
"That's the terrifying part. The wound was healing. Pale flesh buds like maggots wriggled and grew, but they could never fully close. In the end, two sword-shaped gaps remained at the position of the heart," Arianne said, her face pale and her voice trembling.
Obara, the eldest Sand Snake, thought of her father and her eyes flickered.
"It seems wounds caused by ice swords and fire swords cannot be healed. It's like a curse."
Prince Oberyn had been a remarkable man.
In his early years he had studied to become a maester, but left the Citadel after forging a six-link chain. He traveled through the Nine Free Cities, worked as a sellsword, and even formed his own mercenary company. He had slept with both men and women and had been slept with by men as well. During those years he learned much about poisons and dark sorcery.
The poison he used to wound the Mountain contained sinister blood magic, leaving even the "magic maester" Qyburn helpless.
However, although Oberyn had been promiscuous, he treated his bastard daughters very well, teaching them everything he knew.
That evening, in the main hall of Winterfell.
The fireplaces blazed, and torches were inserted into all four walls.
At the central long wooden table sat the great lords of count rank and above. Around them stood or sat a crowd of barons, knights, squires, and wildling chiefs.
The summary meeting of the Battle of Winterfell was underway.
"In this battle we lost eight thousand soldiers and more than five thousand civilians. The remaining soldiers, civilians, and servants number only slightly over six thousand. The price was extremely heavy.
"But their sacrifice was not without value. During the defense of the city we set up more than one hundred wooden ladders along the walls. After nearly ten hours of fierce battle, each ladder killed at least a thousand enemies.
"That alone means more than one hundred thousand wights were destroyed.
"Then there was the Dragon Queen at the city gate. She stood alone, burning enemies from midnight until the following morning, killing at least twenty thousand wights.
"After the western wall fell, Ser Dickon Tarly detonated wildfire bombs and the dragons swept the battlefield. That wave alone killed at least twenty thousand more wights.
"You must remember that those climbing ladders and attacking the walls were 'warrior wights' with limbs and weapons. Among them were even several thousand knight-class wights.
"One hundred thousand warrior wights are equivalent to a million ordinary 'farmer wights.'
"And that was only the beginning. During the decisive battle against the Night King, the wyvern legion's wildfire bombs annihilated the White Walker Knight Order. At least two hundred White Walker knights died in the wildfire.
"And those two hundred were not solitary. Each controlled large numbers of wights.
"If you go outside the city now, you can still see the northeast covered with corpses across the snowfields. There are no fewer than three hundred thousand.
"By yesterday afternoon, the Dragon Queen mounted her dragon again and burned across the plains, chasing the White Walkers for dozens of kilometers and killing more than one hundred thousand wights.
"In other words, in the Battle of Winterfell we killed at least six hundred thousand wights and four hundred White Walkers.
"I am certain the main force of the wight army has been crippled."
Jon Stark, the King in the North, was the first to stand up and announce the casualties and achievements to everyone.
Clap, clap, clap.
In the quiet hall, a solitary round of applause sounded.
Everyone turned in confusion toward the Dragon Queen at the main table.
"With achievements like this, isn't it worth cheering and celebrating?" Dany said calmly, without the slightest embarrassment.
"You let the Night King escape," the Second Stag said coldly.
Dany frowned. In that instant, she sensed a suppressed violence deep within him.
A brutality that did not belong to him.
This guy must have lost part of his soul during the resurrection process.
"It couldn't be helped. The First God King suddenly weakened, the red sword lost its magic, and the Cold God in the sky was no longer restrained, so it used forbidden spells without hesitation," she said.
"Why were you unwilling to sacrifice yourself? You know what I mean. That was such a good opportunity. I created it for you with my life," the Second Stag questioned in a low voice.
"I must consider the greater situation. I cannot speak lightly of sacrifice," Dany replied with a serious expression.
The Second Stag's pale, bloodless thin face began to twist.
"I misjudged you," he said coldly.
"Ah, I understand now," Dany suddenly realized. "You don't grind your teeth anymore. R'hllor took away your habit of grinding your teeth!"
"So grinding your teeth was actually your most precious trait," Dany said, her expression becoming very strange.
The Second Stag truly no longer ground his teeth. He only stared at her with cold, emotionless eyes and said nothing.
In fact, his teeth grinding had only been an outward sign of intense emotional fluctuations.
Just like when Dany became overly excited, her eyebrows would twist into strange shapes.
Now the Second Stag no longer ground his teeth not because he couldn't, but because the fire in his heart had gone out. He rarely felt strong emotional surges anymore.
"Ahem, Your Majesty, everyone is waiting for you to speak," Jon coughed lightly, reminding the two leaders that their performance was being watched by everyone else.
Dany turned her head and saw a sea of eyes shining with various emotions.
"Yes. Lightbringer has been broken, the God King R'hllor has been gravely wounded by the Cold God and is on the verge of death, and the First War God and First Magic God have also fallen. But we have not lost."
Dany's voice grew passionate.
"The Battle of Winterfell shattered the White Walkers' fantasy of conquering Westeros in three months."
"Did the White Walkers ever say they would conquer Westeros in three months?" Princess Arianne asked in confusion.
"The Night King told me. Or do you think the White Walkers can't do it?" Dany glanced at her sideways.
"In half a month they marched from the Wall to Winterfell. If we had failed… south of Winterfell lies the Neck. Reaching Dorne in three months wouldn't be a fantasy. It would be very realistic," Jaime said seriously.
Dany ignored them and continued loudly:
"This is the first retreat in the million-strong wight army's campaign. For the White Walkers it is not only a loss of numbers, but a psychological defeat.
"The Battle of Winterfell has strengthened the confidence of the people of the Seven Kingdoms that this war can be won. It has changed humanity's fate of believing that without gods they cannot fight the Cold God.
"And Arya Stark killing the Night King with her own hands proves that anyone can become the savior."
As soon as the passionate speech ended, there were no cheers from the crowd, no cries of "Long live the Queen" or "Victory in the war."
Instead, the people in the hall looked at each other in silence for several breaths before bursting into emotional complaints.
"To be honest, after the Battle of Winterfell I haven't gained much confidence in victory."
"That's right. This time we almost exhausted everything we had, and even then we couldn't end the Long Night. Is there still hope in the future?"
"For the White Walkers, does losing troops even matter? Do those undead and ice monsters feel defeated? I'm starting to feel a little hopeless."
"Exactly. Who wouldn't despair after seeing that dark vortex? We're practically living inside an iceberg now. I heard it's a forbidden spell of the Cold God."
"I actually find Arya killing the Night King even more despairing. If killing him still leads to rebirth… I almost want to go to heaven already. The Long Night is too terrifying!"
The Dragon Queen had intended her passionate speech to raise morale, but the more she spoke, the more despair the nobles and commanders felt.
Now Dany truly felt a little embarrassed.
"Caw, caw, caw."
A large crow flew down from the stone direwolf statue above the fireplace and landed at the center of the long table.
"I am Bran Stark, the Three-Eyed Raven of this generation.
"The Three-Eyed Raven is the divine messenger who protects the continent of Westeros. I know every secret related to the Long Night.
"And now I will tell you all: the Battle of Winterfell was an unprecedented great victory."
(End of Chapter)
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