When they arrived, fine snow was already drifting across the entire region of the Five Forts. The temperature plunged abruptly, and a biting chill filled the air.
Inside the vast, icy main hall of Pearl Fortress, Lo Quen quickly convened a military council.
His current force numbered around forty thousand. In addition to that were the slavers captured from Slaver's Bay and Qarth, several thousand Leng warriors provided by Khiara, and the Five Forts' own frail garrison of one or two thousand men. Altogether, the total strength approached fifty thousand.
Faced with a long defensive line and five fortresses that all required garrisons, Lo Quen issued his orders.
"Jaelena, Janice, Daenerys, Chai Yiq. The four of you will each take a detachment and depart immediately for the other four fortresses. You must complete basic repairs to the defenses and deploy troops before the wight army arrives. Luo Wen, you are responsible for coordinating logistics and relaying information."
The four Queens accepted the command. Each of them commanded a battle-capable dragon, making them the best possible choice to hold the subsidiary fortresses.
Without hesitation, they began mustering troops and preparing to set out.
With the garrison arrangements settled, Lo Quen decided to carry out the initial reconnaissance himself.
Although the Amethyst Empress's prophecy indicated that Jon was still in the Mossovy Forest, Mossovy lay at the far northern edge of the Grey Waste. It was far more likely that Jon had arrived by ship along the northern coast of Essos.
Now the entire Grey Waste was blanketed in snow, lashed by wind and ice.
He could not rush in blindly. He needed to scout the outskirts of the Grey Waste first, to guard against possible ambushes or sudden attacks.
...
On the tenth day after arriving at Pearl Fortress, Lo Quen watched the snowfall outside grow ever heavier and finally decided to wait no longer.
Mounting Blooddancer, he plunged straight into the blizzard, flying toward the Grey Waste.
Unlike its earlier resistance at Moat Cailin, Blooddancer still felt uneasy in the face of the northern cold and biting winds, letting out low, uneasy growls.
But strengthened by Lo Quen's Dragonblood purity, now at 76%, it ultimately overcame its instinctive discomfort. With powerful beats of its wings, it carried its master through the storm, pressing steadily northward.
After roughly half a day of flight, the sky grew noticeably darker, as though night had fallen ahead of time.
At that moment, Lo Quen's sharp eyes caught movement in the distant snowstorm. Countless black specks were racing toward the direction of the Five Forts.
As the distance closed, he made out their forms.
They were roughly human in shape, but covered in scales, with wings sprouting from their backs and grotesque, savage faces.
"Shrykes."
Lo Quen immediately recognized them as one of the creatures created through ancient blood magic, just as the Bloodstone Emperor had described.
Without hesitation, he struck Blooddancer's neck.
"Clear them out."
Blooddancer roared, and scorching dragonfire swept across the sky. The Shrykes were instantly swallowed by flames, releasing piercing shrieks as they fell, reduced to burning wreckage.
Lo Quen felt the faint Dragon's Soul points flowing into the system panel in his mind and nodded inwardly.
"As expected, these magical constructs all contain magic."
After eliminating this group of Shrike-men, Lo Quen continued forward.
Less than ten li later, the sight before him made even his heart jolt.
In the distant blizzard, an endless black line was advancing slowly forward.
That was… the true army of wights.
Dense beyond counting, like a migrating swarm of ants, their numbers far exceeded anything he had seen in the North of Westeros.
Even more terrifying, within this undead host he saw massive ice spiders skittering across the snow, skeletal mammoths trudging forward with heavy steps, Others knights riding skeletal warhorses, and even, high above the storm-filled sky, the pale, enormous figure of an Ice Dragon circling overhead.
Lo Quen's gaze swiftly swept across the core of the horde.
Amid the clustered Others, he spotted a singular presence.
A woman riding atop an especially massive Ice Dragon.
Her skin was deathly pale, and her eyes burned like blue stars.
"It's her!"
Lo Quen instantly recalled an ancient legend: the daughter of the Barrow King… the Night Queen.
But where was the Night King of legend?
Where was he hiding?
As Lo Quen narrowed his focus and searched, a patrolling Ice Dragon in the distance detected him and the Blooddancer. It let out a hostile hiss, wheeled around, and charged straight at them, pale, deathly frost gathering in its jaws.
Lo Quen made a split-second decision. This was no time for a meaningless fight.
"Go. Back to The Five Forts!" he ordered at once.
The Blooddancer answered with a piercing cry and beat its wings with full force. Its massive body carved a smooth arc through the sky, and with superior speed and agility, it quickly shook off the Ice Dragon's pursuit, racing back along the route they had come.
Lo Quen knew all too well that this wight horde was unprecedented in scale. It would still take time before it reached The Five Forts. He had to make full use of that window and prepare for everything.
On the return journey, as they passed over the edge of the marshlands, an unexpected figure appeared on the snowy plain below.
A lone rider in a striking crimson robe, struggling forward through the snow.
Lo Quen immediately urged the Blooddancer to descend. The dragon landed steadily in the snow ahead of her, cutting off her path.
"Lady Melisandre…"
Lo Quen looked at the red priestess, a note of recognition in his voice. "It seems you've finally found your target."
Melisandre reined in her horse and bowed slightly amid the wind and snow. Weariness lingered in her crimson eyes. "Your Grace, the flames of the Lord of Light have shown me Jon Snow. He is within the Forest of Mossovy. I must find him."
Lo Quen shook his head and glanced toward the Grey Waste, his expression grave. "I'm afraid that won't be possible, my lady. The entire Grey Waste has already fallen under the control of the Others and their army of wights. If you insist on going, you will never reach the Forest of Mossovy alive."
Melisandre's brows drew together tightly, shock and solemnity flashing through her red eyes. "The servants of the Cold God… they've moved far faster than I expected…"
She was no fool. She knew Lo Quen was telling the truth. To cross an undead army alone would be nothing short of suicide.
She fell silent for a moment, struggle written clearly across her face.
At last, she lifted her head and looked at Lo Quen. "Your Grace, I understand what you mean. You want me to… return with you to The Five Forts."
Lo Quen nodded, his tone leaving no room for debate. "Exactly. The Five Forts will be the first barrier against death, and very likely the last. This is nothing like the battle at Moat Cailin. I need every force that can be brought to bear, especially someone like you, who commands the magic of the Lord of Light. And I have no desire to see you standing on the walls of The Five Forts one day as one of them."
Melisandre pondered his words for a long time, her gaze drifting between south and north.
In the end, her judgment of the grim reality before her led her to a decision.
She gave the reins a light tug and turned her horse toward The Five Forts.
"As you wish, Your Grace. I trust your judgment. May R'hllor's light find a place to bloom within that black fortress."
Lo Quen pursed his lips and said nothing more. He guided the Blooddancer skyward once again, taking the lead.
Melisandre spurred her horse to follow behind. One rider and one dragon, one crimson and one black, pressed forward through the swirling snow toward the fortress that was destined to become the focal point of a brutal, blood-soaked battle.