Sam: ice core Panic in The Citadel Mines
In the tunnels of The Citadel's underground dragonglass mine, the light of kerosene lamps flickered in the damp air, illuminating the dragonglass shards on the rock walls with a faint blue glow. Sam squatted before a fault line in the mine, his fingertips tracing the ice crystals seeping from the rock wall. Since receiving Illyrio's secret letter, he had ordered the miners to halt deep excavation for three days, but the cold from the fault line continued to intensify, and even the hardest dragonglass ore began to be covered in a thin layer of frost.
"Maester, if we don't resume mining, King's Landing's dragonglass supply will run out!" Graham, the foreman, walked over, an iron pickaxe on his shoulder, his boots scraping against the gravel with a harsh sound. "Yesterday, a raven from King's Landing said their dragonglass arrow supply would only last half a month. If the cold god's ice mist arrives, we won't even have weapons to defend the city!"
Sam didn't turn around. He pulled out a mine map drawn by Bran from his In my arms. The "danger zone" circled in red on the map coincided with the fault line before him, with "ice core fragment suppression zone" marked on its edge. "It's not that we're not mining, it's that we can't touch the danger zone." He pointed to the depths of the fault line. "Bran said there are ice core fragments hidden here. If we dig through, the cold will instantly engulf the entire mine, and all the miners will be infected."
Graham scoffed, stabbing his pickaxe into the ground. "More nonsense from that blind boy? We've been mining our whole lives, what kind of cold haven't we seen? If we drag this out any longer, never mind the cold god, we'll starve to death first!" Several miners behind him also chimed in, some even raising their pickaxes, ready to start digging at the fault line.
Just then, a scream suddenly echoed from deep within the tunnel. Sam shot to his feet and ran towards the sound. He saw a young miner lying on the ground, his arm pressed against the fault line's rock wall. His skin had turned a pale bluish-white with ice patterns, which were spreading rapidly across his body at a visible rate. "Quick! Pull him away! Apply dragonglass powder to his arm!" Sam shouted. Graham finally realized the danger and quickly joined the other miners to drag the man away from the rock wall.
As soon as the dragonglass powder touched the miner's skin, it emitted a "sizzling" corrosive sound. The spread of the ice patterns slowed but did not stop. Sam knelt down and pulled out a weirwood shard from his In my arms, placing it on the miner's wound. A faint warmth emanated from the shard, and the ice patterns finally began to recede. The miner's groans of pain also gradually lessened.
"Do you see? This isn't ordinary cold." Sam stood up, his gaze sweeping over the miners present. "Immediately set up a quarantine zone, build a barrier with dragonglass ore, and send two people to notify Dr. Marwyn. Tell him to bring R'hllor amulets—only the lord of light's power can completely suppress the cold from the fragment." He paused, pulling out Illyrio's secret letter from his In my arms. "Illyrio has already sent Unsullied with holy fire staff to assist, they will arrive in three days at most. Until then, no one is to approach the fault line."
Graham looked at the weakened miner on the ground and finally shed his disdain, waving for the miners to build the quarantine zone. Sam, meanwhile, walked to the fault line and embedded the weirwood shard into a crack in the rock wall. The moment the shard touched the dragonglass ore, a faint green light pattern spread along the rock wall, temporarily sealing the passage for the cold to leak out. He knew this was only a temporary measure; the power of the ice core fragment was still accumulating in the dark, and if the Unsullied's support was delayed, the entire Citadel could be swallowed by the cold.
Melisandre: R'hllor Tempering in King's Landing Plaza
In King's Landing's central plaza, fifty Red Priests, clad in red robes and holding burning holy fire staff, stood in neat formation in the morning mist. Melisandre stood before the formation, her silver-white hair fluttering in the wind. At the top of her holy fire staff, the flame burned with unusual intensity even in the windless environment—this was a manifestation of the lord of light's power, and a hope against the cold god.
"Holy fire is not just flame; it is also a vessel of faith." Melisandre's voice echoed through the plaza's acoustic walls, clearly reaching every trainee's ear. On both sides of the plaza, three hundred Unsullied and two hundred Northern warriors stood in formation, holding dragonglass spears coated with r'hllor powder, their armor adorned with wildfire runes personally drawn by Melisandre.
She walked up to an Unsullied, lightly touching the tip of his spear with her holy fire staff. The dragonglass spear instantly ignited with an orange-red flame, yet it did not scorch the metal; instead, it made the spear tip's faint glow even brighter. "Dragonglass can pierce the cold god's creations, and holy fire can purify the cold's infection. The combination of the two is the ultimate weapon against the cold god." Melisandre explained, "For the next three days, you must learn to guide the holy fire with faith, allowing the flame to resonate with the dragonglass, so that you can ignite your weapons even without a priest's blessing."
As the training began, uniform shouts echoed across the plaza. The Unsullied, relying on years of discipline, quickly mastered the basics of holy fire guidance. They focused their attention on the spear tips, silently reciting the R'hllor prayer taught by Melisandre. The flames on their dragonglass spears, though faint, burned steadily. The Northern warriors, however, were more adept at driving the flames with their will. An old veteran who had fought Wights in Winterfell could even make the flame on his spear tip form the shape of a wolf's head, drawing gasps of admiration from the priests.
Daenerys and Illyrio stood on the plaza's viewing platform, watching the training below. "I didn't expect the holy fire and dragonglass to be so compatible." Daenerys said softly, a faint warmth emanating from the R'hllor amulet in her hand. Melisandre had given it to her yesterday, saying it could summon a R'hllor barrier in times of crisis.
"But holy fire also has a weakness." Melisandre walked onto the viewing platform, her voice carrying a hint of solemnity. "the cold god's ice mist can suppress holy fire. Once in an area covered by ice mist, the holy fire's power will weaken by thirty percent. We need to sew weirwood fiber into the lining of the warriors' armor to enhance the holy fire's resistance, and at the same time, have the priests form a 'Holy Fire Formation' to maintain the flame's intensity with collective faith."
Illyrio nodded, pulling out a set of armor modification blueprints from his In my arms. "I've already had the Forge prepare weirwood fiber. All the warriors' armor modifications can be completed within three days. Additionally, Bran's Greensight shows that the cold god's ice spikes are approaching the Wall. We need to quickly send a R'hllor team to support the Night's Watch and reinforce the Wall's defenses."
A flicker of determination flashed in Melisandre's eyes. "I will personally lead the team to the Wall. Among the Red Priests, three have fought alongside the descendants of Azor Ahai. They know how to use holy fire to strengthen the Wall's ancient runes." She paused, looking at Daenerys. "The R'hllor training in King's Landing will be left to my deputy. You must be vigilant about King's Landing's underground—the cold god might infiltrate through sewers, cellars, and other dark places, which are blind spots that holy fire struggles to cover."
Arya: Tracking Cold Shadows in King's Landing Sewers
In King's Landing's sewers, wastewater flowed in the darkness, emitting a pungent stench. Arya held a torch coated with dragonglass powder, its flame flickering in the damp air, illuminating the strange ice patterns on the pipe walls. She had discovered these during her morning inspection; the ice patterns extended from deep within the sewers, and the rat corpses along the way were pale bluish-white, clearly having died after being infected by the cold.
"My lady, there's movement ahead." Talon, the Unsullied scout, whispered, his dragonglass dagger held before him. Arya nodded, extinguished her torch, and moved silently into the depths, guided by the faint glow of dragonglass shards on the pipe walls. From the fork ahead, a faint "creaking" sound could be heard, like ice rubbing together.
Turning the corner at the fork, Arya's pupils suddenly contracted. A dozen abnormally large rats were gathered around a pale blue ice core fragment. Their fur had turned into an icy shell, their eyes glowed with a dead blue light, and the ice spikes on their claws could easily scratch stone. Even more terrifying, two sewer workers' bodies lay beside the fragment. The workers' fingers were trembling slightly towards the fragment, and the blood vessels beneath their skin had turned ice blue—they weren't dead yet; they were being transformed into Wights by the cold.
"Talon, you and two men go around behind the fragment and throw r'hllor oil at the rats; I'll save those two workers." Arya's voice was extremely low, and the valyrian steel dagger in her hand gleamed coldly in the faint light. Talon nodded, unhooked an oil flask from his waist, and quietly moved towards the back of the fragment.
Arya seized the moment while the rats were focused on the fragment, quickly rushing to the workers and cutting their ropes with her dagger. One of the workers suddenly opened his eyes, his ice-blue pupils staring intently at her. He lunged at her, his fingernails tipped with gleaming ice spikes. "Don't resist!" Arya dodged to the side, pressing a R'hllor amulet to the worker's chest. "This will suppress the cold!"
As soon as the amulet's warmth reached the worker's body, his movements slowed, and his ice-blue skin began to regain color. But just then, the swarm of rats suddenly reacted and lunged at Arya. Talon immediately threw the r'hllor oil at the rats. The moment the tinder was lit, orange-red flames erupted in the wastewater. The rats shrieked horribly, their bodies rapidly turning into ice shards in the flames.
Arya took the opportunity to pick up the other worker and retreat towards the fork. But after only two steps, she felt a bone-chilling cold from beneath her feet. In the wastewater, an ice spike was creeping up from her boot. The cold from the fragment had already spread with the water current! "Get out of the water!" Arya shouted, pulling the worker onto a pipe. The wastewater behind them instantly froze into ice, and ice spikes grew upwards like vines, chasing after them.
Talon and his men arrived, throwing all the remaining r'hllor oil at the ice spikes. Flames ignited again, and the growth of the ice spikes finally stopped. Arya looked at the location of the fragment, filled with lingering fear. the cold god could actually use the dark environment of the sewers to spread the cold. If it hadn't been discovered in time, the entire civilian population of King's Landing could have been infected. "Immediately seal off this section of the sewers and send Red Priests to purify the fragment." Arya told Talon. "Also, notify all civilians not to approach the sewer entrances and not to drink unboiled water."
Tyrion: Resource Strategy in the Council Chamber
On the oak long table in the Red Keep's council chamber, resource reports from various territories were spread out. Tyrion stood at the table, leaning on his cane, his brow furrowed. The Northern dragonglass transport team was stranded inland due to a blizzard, Dorne's sunflower oil had arrived but was only enough to coat half the warriors' armor, and The Citadel's dragonglass mine had ceased operations due to the ice core crisis. The anti-cold alliance's logistical chain was facing a breakdown.
"The Northern blizzard will last at least two more days, and the dragonglass transport team won't reach King's Landing for at least four days." Sansa's messenger stood at the table, her voice apologetic. "Lord Manderly has sent his most elite rangers to escort them, but the snow is too deep, and the cavalry cannot advance at all."
Obara Sand, the Dornish representative, placed a cup of sunflower oil on the table. The oil gleamed golden in the ceramic cup. "Dorne's stock is empty. To refine more will take at least ten days. This oil can only be prioritized for the warriors guarding the Wall. King's Landing's R'hllor team will probably have to wait."
The Citadel's messenger also looked troubled. "Dr. Marwyn said the mine's ice core fragments require personal purification by Red Priests, otherwise mining cannot resume. But Melisandre is going to the Wall, and The Citadel's priests are simply not enough to suppress the cold."
Silence fell upon the council chamber, broken only by the "crackling" of burning candles. Tyrion walked to the window, watching the fine snow falling outside. the cold god's shadow was not only physically infiltrating but also dismantling the alliance's resource cooperation. He suddenly turned, his cane tapping crisply on the floor. "The Northern rangers will take the coastal route. Have Yara send three warships to meet them. The wind and snow at sea are less severe than inland, so they can arrive a day earlier. Dorne's sunflower oil will be prioritized for the Red Priests and the Night's Watch. King's Landing's warriors will use weirwood fiber as a substitute for now. I will have the Forge speed up the sewing of the fiber. As for The Citadel, have Illyrio send ten R'hllor Warriors with amulets to assist, to stabilize the cold in the mine first, and then Melisandre can completely purify it when she returns from the Wall."
He paused, his gaze sweeping over the representatives present. "Additionally, King's Landing's civilians can participate in resource preparation. Have women with weaving experience help sew weirwood fiber, and have the Forge recruit civilian apprentices to craft dragonglass weapons. For every day of participation, an extra half-pound of grain will be distributed. This will not only speed up progress but also make civilians feel they are part of the anti-cold alliance, strengthening their confidence."
Sansa's messenger was the first to nod: "The coastal route is feasible; Yara's warships are familiar with the Blackwater Bay's conditions and can avoid the reefs."
Obara also softened her previous tough stance: "Dorne can send artisans to King's Landing to instruct commoners on refining simple anti-cold grease.
Although not as effective as sunflower oil, it can provide a temporary solution."
The Citadel's messenger was even more relieved: "With the R'hllor Warriors' support, the mines can at least maintain minimal extraction, ensuring King's Landing's basic supplies."
Tyrion felt a sense of relief watching all parties reach a consensus.
He knew these measures were only temporary; to truly solve the resource problem, the cold god needed to be thoroughly defeated, and normal production across all territories restored.
But at least for now, the alliance had not fractured due to the crisis; instead, it had grown stronger through cooperation—this was the most precious weapon against the cold god.
[Bran: Ice Spike Warning from the Godswood]
Under the weirwood in King's Landing's temporary Godswood, Bran sat in his wheelchair, eyes closed, the ice crystals on his pale cheeks thicker than yesterday.
In his Greensight world, he floated above the Arctic ice sheet, where the cold god's altar had expanded to twice its previous size.
Three ice core fragments hovered at the altar's peak, releasing a chilling aura that formed a massive vortex over the ice sheet.
Countless ice spikes extended from the vortex, like cold, sharp swords, piercing towards Westeros in three directions.
"Ice spikes... almost at the Wall..." Bran's lips moved silently, his consciousness following the thickest ice spike—this spike pointed directly at the Eastwatch-by-the-Sea section of the Wall.
Its tip had touched the Wall's foundation, where ancient runes flickered in the cold but gradually lost their luster.
The Night's Watch bonfires appeared especially dim beside the ice spike, with several Night's Watch members huddled around them for warmth, completely unaware that the foundation beneath their feet had begun to freeze.
The Greensight vision suddenly shifted, and Bran saw The Citadel's underground mines—Sam's dragonglass isolation barrier was being eroded by the cold aura.
The weirwood patterns on the rock walls gradually dimmed, and the blue light of the ice core fragments penetrated the barrier, forming ghostly figures in the tunnels, as if they could break through the shield at any moment.
"Sam... R'hllor Warriors... hurry..." Bran's body trembled violently, weirwood sap flowed from the corners of his eyes, congealing into dark red streaks on the ice crystals.
Lyra quickly wrapped Bran in a warm woolen blanket, but found his fingers were already stiff: "Lord Bran, don't look anymore! Your body will be frozen by the cold!"
Bran did not respond, his consciousness continued to delve deeper—he saw deep within King's Landing's sewers, besides the fragment Arya had found, three smaller fragments hidden in different Fork in the road.
Each fragment was attracting creatures from the shadows, transforming them into "Wights," and silently spreading towards the commoner districts.
"King's Landing... sewers... more fragments..." Bran finally squeezed out a faint voice.
He struggled to pull out a dragonglass shard from his embrace and placed it in Lyra's hand, "Tell Arya... use dragonglass... to block the cold from the fragments... don't let them... get close to the commoner districts..."
Lyra dared not delay, immediately taking the dragonglass shard and running towards Arya's camp.
Bran watched her retreating figure, his consciousness gradually withdrawing from Greensight, the weirwood before him began to blur, and the cold in his body grew heavier—he knew the cold god's full assault was about to begin, and the alliance's preparation time was running out.
But he could not fall; he was the alliance's "eyes," he had to clearly see every move of the cold god to buy the anti-cold army the last bit of preparation time.
[Arya: Wight Crisis in the Commoner Districts]
In a dilapidated house in King's Landing's commoner districts, Arya knelt by the bed, looking at the old woman on it—her skin had turned a translucent icy blue, her breathing was weak, yet her fingers unconsciously clutched at the straw beneath her, as if searching for something.
The old woman's grandson knelt by the bed, crying heartbreakingly: "Yesterday, Grandma just went near the sewers and picked up a blue stone; when she came back, she became like this!"
Arya took the "stone" from the boy's hand—it was an ice core fragment the size of a fingernail, its surface radiating a cold aura clearly felt even through cloth.
"This isn't a stone, it's a fragment of the cold god."
She placed the fragment into a cloth bag containing dragonglass powder; the cold aura was instantly suppressed.
"Your grandma has been infected by the cold; I will have a Red Priest come to save her, but you must promise me never to go near the sewers again, and never to pick up strange things."
The boy nodded tearfully, and Arya rose and walked out of the dilapidated house—outside, three Red Priests were patrolling the streets of the commoner districts with their holy fire staffs.
The flames at the tip of their holy fire staffs could dispel the faint cold in the air, and when they encountered an infected commoner, they would draw runes on their body with holy fire to temporarily suppress the cold.
"Lady Arya, we've found two more infected commoners in the dilapidated house to the east, both of whom had contact with fragments from the sewers."
A priest approached, his voice heavy with concern, "The cold from the fragments is spreading faster than we thought; five households already show symptoms of infection."
Arya frowned, pulling out a map of the sewers from her embrace: "We must find all the fragments as soon as possible.
Talon, you lead a team of Unsullied, enter from the eastern entrance of the sewers, and investigate along the ice patterns; I'll lead another team, entering from the western entrance, and the two teams will meet in the middle.
Once a fragment is found, immediately seal it with r'hllor oil and dragonglass powder to prevent the cold from spreading further."
Talon nodded, immediately gathering the Unsullied for preparation.
Arya then walked to the commoner district's bulletin board and posted a notice written with charcoal: "Anyone who finds blue fragments, do not touch them, report immediately to a Red Priest or an Unsullied.
For each valid clue provided, a pound of flour will be rewarded."
The commoners in front of the bulletin board discussed animatedly, some fearful, some curious, but more people began to actively recall "strange things" they had seen recently.
An old artisan even said he had seen "glowing ice" near the sewers yesterday, at the western fork in the road.
Arya's heart filled with joy, and she immediately led her small team towards the western sewer entrance.
She knew that the strength of the commoners was an important aid in fighting the cold god—they were familiar with every alley and every corner of King's Landing, and could find clues that the priests and Unsullied might overlook.
As long as all available forces were united, even if the shadow of the cold god was dense, a way to break it could be found.
[Melisandre: R'hllor Oath-taking on the Eve of the Wall]
At dusk, Melisandre's R'hllor team had arrived at the Eastwatch-by-the-Sea section of the Wall.
Night's Watch Commander Alliser Thorne stood at the top of the Wall, looking down at the lined-up Red Priests with complex emotions in his eyes—he had once questioned the power of the lord of light.
But at this moment, the ice patterns spreading on the Wall's foundation forced him to admit that holy fire was the only hope against the cold god.
"Priestess, the Wall's runes have begun to fail; if this continues, the ice spikes will pierce the Wall in less than three days."
Thorne's voice carried a hint of fatigue, his longsword gleaming coldly in the twilight, "We only have half of our dragonglass arrows left, and the Night's Watch numbers are insufficient; we cannot withstand the cold god's Wights."
Melisandre walked onto the Wall, her holy fire staff gently touching the runes on the foundation—flames spread along the runes, and the previously dim runes instantly lit up with an orange-red glow, the spread of the ice patterns visibly slowing.
"The runes need the power of holy fire to be reactivated."
She told Thorne, "Have your Night's Watch assist the priests in drawing wildfire runes on every section of the Wall, then mix dragonglass powder with r'hllor oil and apply it to the outer side of the Wall, forming a double defense."
The Night's Watch immediately sprang into action; some assisted the priests in drawing runes, some transported dragonglass powder, and others built Holy Fire Formation on the Wall—as night fell, the entire Eastwatch-by-the-Sea section of the Wall was enveloped in the light of holy fire.
Orange-red flames burned in the cold wind, like a warm barrier, blocking the cold from the North.
Melisandre stood at the top of the Wall, looking down at the Holy Fire Formation, her holy fire staff raised high: "Followers of the lord of light, guardians of Westeros!
The shadow of the cold god is devouring our homes, and the footsteps of the Wights are approaching our walls!
But we have holy fire, we have dragonglass, and we have faith in each other!"
Her voice carried through the cold wind, echoing across all of Eastwatch-by-the-Sea: "Tonight, we light the Wall with holy fire; tomorrow, we will confront the cold god with courage!
Even if we fight to the last person, even if the holy fire extinguishes, we will hold this line, we will hold the hope of Westeros!"
The Night's Watch and the Red Priests cheered in unison, their voices reverberating over the Wall, drowning out the howling wind.
Thorne looked at Melisandre's back, his doubts gradually fading—he finally understood that fighting the cold god required no doubt, no hesitation, only unity and faith.
Melisandre looked down at the northern night sky, stars twinkling through the clouds, like the eyes of the lord of light watching them.
She knew this was only the first stop in the fight against the cold god; more difficult battles lay ahead.
But as long as the Wall did not fall, as long as the holy fire did not extinguish, as long as the alliance remained united, they would surely defeat the darkness and welcome the dawn.
[Illyrio: Anti-Cold Deployment in the Red Keep's Deep Night]
In the Red Keep's armory late at night, Illyrio stood before a sand table, his wooden pointer drawing defensive lines on it—the Wall, The Citadel, King's Landing, three key locations marked with red flags, connected by blue lines representing the cold god's potential attack routes.
"The Wall is overseen by Melisandre and Thorne, with a focus on defending Eastwatch-by-the-Sea and Castle Black; The Citadel is overseen by Sam and the R'hllor Warriors, ensuring the safety of the dragonglass mines and researching methods to cure the cold.
King's Landing is overseen by Grey Worm and me, defending the commoner districts and the Red Keep, preventing the cold god from infiltrating underground."
Illyrio's voice was firm, his pointer tapping the King's Landing position on the sand table, "Arya's search team must clear all sewer fragments within three days, and Bran will continue to monitor the cold god's movements with Greensight.
Once an ice spike breakthrough is detected, ravens will immediately notify all defensive lines."
Daenerys walked into the armory, holding a report on infections in the commoner districts: "Currently, seventeen people in King's Landing have been infected, five of whom have been cured by holy fire, and the rest are in isolation for treatment.
The Citadel's messenger just arrived, saying that the R'hllor Warriors have reached the mines, and the cold has been temporarily suppressed, allowing for small-scale extraction to resume."
Illyrio nodded, pulling out a troop deployment roster from his embrace: "The Unsullied are divided into three teams: one stationed at the Wall, one at The Citadel, and one remaining in King's Landing.
Three thousand soldiers from the North have arrived at the Wall, and a thousand warriors from Dorne are responsible for King's Landing's outer defenses.
Yara's warships are divided into two parts: one patrols the coast to prevent the cold god from attacking by sea, and the other escorts dragonglass transport teams to ensure supplies for all defensive lines."
He paused, looking at Daenerys: "We also need to prepare a mobile force, led by Arya, to immediately reinforce any defensive line that faces a crisis.
Additionally, Cersei is still imprisoned in the dungeon; security needs to be tightened to prevent the cold god from using her blood to activate hidden blood curse runes—Qyburn's dark magic might still have contingencies."
Daenerys nodded, her eyes filled with determination: "I will personally inspect the dungeon to ensure Cersei has no opportunity to cause trouble.
Furthermore, I will have all commoners in King's Landing equipped with a simple dragonglass shard; although it cannot completely resist the cold, it can serve as an early warning.
The dragonglass will turn cold if it approaches fragments or ice mist."
Illyrio looked at Daenerys, his heart filled with satisfaction—she was no longer just a queen who relied on dragons, but had learned to manage the overall situation, balancing military and civilian affairs.
Outside the armory, the night deepened, and the raven tower emitted crisp bird calls; it was Bran's raven bringing a new warning: the cold god's ice spikes had stopped extending towards the Wall, seemingly accumulating strength to launch a full assault.
Illyrio tightened his grip on the pointer, his gaze falling on the red flags on the sand table—each flag was a barrier of hope, each defensive line a firm guardianship.
He knew the moment of decisive battle was approaching, but he was no longer afraid—because he had Daenerys, he had Arya, he had Bran, he had all those fighting for peace.
They would use holy fire and dragonglass, courage and faith, to defend this land, to defend all hope.