The Haunted Forest.
It was morning, yet there was scarcely any sunlight.
Near the Milk River, dead trees stretched their twisted branches toward the sky like gnarled fingers.
Deep within the forest, an eerie silence descended first.
Then countless pairs of blue eyes lit up in the shadows, like stars fallen from the heavens into the mortal world.
Roar!
A shriek that sounded nothing like a human cry pierced the air as a white tide surged toward the Milk River.
The wights.
Hundreds of thousands of them.
There were humans, horses, great bears, and even rotting direwolves among their ranks.
They knew neither exhaustion nor fear. Like a flood bursting through a broken dam, they waded across the Milk River and charged toward the Wall, which stood almost within reach.
But just as they climbed onto the far bank, a wight bear crushed one of the jars of wildfire buried along the riverbank.
Green liquid began to spill freely across the ground.
At that very moment, Placidusax spread its wings.
Galon rode the great dragon over the human army, heading straight toward the ice dragon carrying the Night King in the distance.
Roar!
The dragon's roar echoed through the sky, announcing the beginning of the final battle.
"Loose!"
The human armies, who had been waiting for this moment, immediately answered the dragon's call.
A rain of flaming arrows and obsidian bolts filled the sky.
In an instant, the wildfire jars buried around the Milk River ignited.
Beneath the thick blanket of snow, the forest erupted into an eerie green inferno.
Boom!
A magnificent explosion of green fire erupted across the battlefield.
The flames soared into the sky. Even amid the ice and snow, they burned with terrifying intensity, like some unnatural green fury unleashed upon the world.
Wave after wave of wights were reduced to ash within the green flames, while a foul stench spread through the air.
Nearby trees caught fire as well, becoming blazing torches that further blocked the wights' advance.
In only a few breaths, more than ten thousand wights had been reduced to ash.
Jon stared at the scene before him, both shocked and regretful.
"I never imagined wildfire would be this useful."
"What a shame we don't have more of it."
But before he could finish lamenting the shortage, the Others behind the army drove even more wights forward without regard for their lives.
Gradually, an almost imperceptible chill began spreading across the entire battlefield around the Milk River.
When the wildfire came into contact with that cold, the flames strangely began to die out.
And once the wildfire was gone, countless wights trampled over the ashes and remains of their fallen comrades, charging fearlessly toward the human lines.
"It's beginning!"
Jon's expression tightened with tension. He suddenly drew the greatsword at his waist and shouted toward the soldiers behind him.
"For the living!"
In an instant, an identical cry erupted from thousands of throats.
"Charge!"
"Kill those dead ice men!"
Boom!
Under Jon's command, countless soldiers surged forward like a tide and collided with the wight army.
The sound of battle instantly thundered across the entire battlefield.
Atop the Wall, Gendry tried to use a bronze telescope to observe the distant fighting.
But the distance and the conditions made it nearly impossible to see anything. All he could make out were vague shapes that might have been giants.
'Am I really supposed to stand here like an idiot and watch?'
'I'm the king!'
'When this war is over, who will respect me?'
The same irritating thoughts flooded his mind again, making Gendry even more restless.
He angrily threw down the bronze telescope and silently took the lift back to the ground.
At the same time, the combined Dornish and ironborn forces at the forefront had already rushed down in a great mass, while the Reach and Westerlands armies downstream from the Milk River firmly held the eastern defensive line.
Vale and Riverlands cavalry raced across the battlefield carrying fire oil, repeatedly using flaming arrows to strike wights that had been drenched in it.
On the main battlefield, giants swung enormous tree trunks. Every sweep smashed dozens, sometimes hundreds, of wights aside.
Mammoths trumpeted as they charged forward, trampling everything beneath their feet and clearing broad swaths of ground like living siege engines.
Almost every soldier under Jon's command had been equipped with obsidian weapons.
Taking advantage of their weapons' unique properties, they had dominated the wights and Others during the opening stages of the battle.
At one point, they even forced the Others back across the Milk River.
But the dead could not be killed forever.
For every one that fell, ten more came, then a hundred.
The situation became even worse when wight giants and wight mammoths appeared on the battlefield.
And as time passed, the human army's disadvantage only grew.
After all, the wights had nothing to fear.
Humans, however, had everything to lose.
"Hold the line!"
"Brothers, hold!"
"We still have Lord Glover! As long as we hold, we can win!"
Jon roared as he cleaved the head of an Other.
All around him, countless soldiers continued to struggle desperately.
"Galon, hurry..."
Elsewhere.
As though he had heard Jon's thoughts, Galon was riding Placidusax through the skies above the Land of Always Winter, locked in an even more brutal battle with the ice dragon ridden by the Night King.
The two dragons faced one another from opposite sides, spewing their flames and breath.
Black dragonflame and blue frost collided in the air, and the resulting clouds of steam instantly engulfed the battlefield.
But when two beams of power collide, the one on the left always loses.
The black-green dragonflame of the newly revitalized Placidusax gradually overwhelmed the ice dragon's freezing breath.
In the end, the Night King was forced to maneuver the ice dragon aside, causing Placidusax's flames to slam directly into the snow below.
With a tremendous roar, the snow melted into a massive pool of water.
"Go, Placidusax!"
Under Galon's command, Placidusax plunged downward, charging straight at the ice dragon as it evaded the flames.
In an instant, the sounds of snapping jaws and beating wings exploded across the Land of Always Winter like thunder.
At more than two hundred and seventy years old, Placidusax was far larger than the ice dragon and vastly more ferocious.
Before Galon had conquered it, it had been a dragon that preyed upon dragons.
Now, under Galon's command, Placidusax avoided the ice dragon's breath and clamped its jaws around the creature's neck.
Its green eyes gleamed with savage fury. Its black claws dug deep into the crystalline scales, tearing away a huge chunk of ice.
Roar!
Placidusax threw back its head and roared before kicking the ice dragon from the sky with both hind legs.
Boom!
The ice dragon crashed heavily into the ground, creating a massive crater.
A cloud of icy mist engulfed both the dragon and the Night King, and for a long while, there was no movement.
Galon's expression shifted.
He directed Placidusax toward the ground and leapt from its back.
He had just begun to approach when an urgent warning sounded beside his ear.
"Watch out!"
It was Bran's voice.
Galon instinctively threw himself to the right and rolled aside, narrowly avoiding an unexpected blast of icy breath from the ice dragon.
Placidusax saw that its master had nearly been injured and immediately flew into a rage.
Whoosh!
Black-green dragonflame shot toward the ice dragon inside the mist with astonishing speed.
In an instant, the ice dragon rose into the sky, once again clashing with Placidusax high above the battlefield.
Galon slowly rose to his feet.
He drew the great Valyrian steel sword Ice from his waist and fixed his gaze upon the Night King.
"Gods... condemn... you... to death!"
The Night King's mouth moved as it uttered a few indistinct words in an ancient tongue.
There was no time to waste.
Galon had no interest in exchanging words with it. He raised Ice and charged straight forward.
The Night King lifted its crystalline spear to block.
Clang!
The two weapons collided.
The crystalline spear shattered instantly beneath the force of the Valyrian steel sword.
"It's over!"
Galon's red eyes burned like flames.
With overwhelming force, Ice came crashing down, shattering the Night King's chest.
A trembling crystalline heart was exposed.
Without hesitation, Galon drove the tip of Ice straight through it.
Crack!
The Night King's body shattered like broken glass.
Having lost its master, the ice dragon released one final mournful cry before Placidusax tore into it, reducing it to a storm of glittering ice fragments.
A faint pulse of magic rippled into the distance.
"There!"
Two ravens appeared silently, as though they had been there all along.
"Follow me!"
"Galon!"
The two ravens spread their wings and flew deeper into the Land of Always Winter.
Galon summoned Placidusax and immediately mounted the dragon.
Two ravens and one dragon sped through the blizzard toward the place where the Cold God slept.
At the same time, the Night King had died, but the Others and wights under its command did not disappear immediately.
Without the Night King's control, however, the army of the dead descended into chaos, leaving only instinctive bloodlust.
Their formations were no longer orderly. Each creature fought on its own.
Some even attacked other Others or wights that happened to get in their way.
The commanders, Jon among them, realized that Galon must have achieved a decisive victory.
They immediately began shouting to steady the army's morale.
In an instant, the human alliance erupted with renewed strength, firmly trapping the remaining Others and wights within their encirclement.
Far away, when Gendry inside the Wall heard the news that victory was near, he could no longer restrain himself.
"Form up!"
"Form up!"
"We need to support Lord Glover!"
The sudden order left Mace Tyrell stunned.
He had just stepped forward to stop him when Gendry strode past without even looking back.
Soon, a portion of the forces from the Crownlands, Stormlands, and Reach had assembled.
Barristan suggested that he go in the king's place, but Gendry refused.
"No!"
"I'm the king!"
Desperate to prove himself, Gendry had completely lost his reason at the thought of the victory and glory that seemed almost within his grasp.
"Knights, charge with me!"
Ignoring Barristan's attempts to stop him, he raised the warhammer that had once belonged to Robert and led the remaining troops into the Haunted Forest.
The moment they entered the forest, Gendry drove his horse forward at a furious pace.
He wanted to cut down as many of those ice creatures as possible and prove himself to the others.
The soldiers had no choice but to spur their own horses and follow closely behind.
In only a few dozen minutes, Gendry led his men into the battlefield from the flank of Jon's forces and the Vale cavalry.
However, the cornered Others were now fighting with desperate ferocity.
At first, Gendry rode through the battlefield like a force of nature, swinging his warhammer and smashing several wights apart.
His confidence soared, and he charged even farther ahead.
But only a few minutes later, he realized that he and a portion of his soldiers had been surrounded from all sides by Others and a vast mass of wights.
"Your Grace!"
"Fall back!"
Barristan killed a wight in the distance and hurriedly called for Gendry to retreat.
But Gendry had ridden too far forward.
He panicked and tried to turn his horse around.
Before he could do so, several wight wolves tore the horse down.
Gendry was thrown to the ground.
"Your Grace!"
Barristan shouted in shock and fury, desperately fighting his way toward him.
But it was already too late.
The instant Gendry rose to his feet, a crystalline sword pierced his chest.
The blood had barely begun to flow before freezing into crimson ice crystals.
The young king stared at his own chest in disbelief and murmured,
"I... I'm a... king too..."
The next moment, he collapsed beside his fallen horse.
The clear light in his eyes faded forever.
"Your Grace!"
By the time the grief-stricken Barristan, despite his own wounds, fought his way to Gendry's side, the king was already dead.
Elsewhere.
Guided by the Three-Eyed Raven and Bran, Galon finally reached the Cold God's resting place at the center of the dead and silent ice plain.
He sat astride the great dragon, staring at the altar ahead, which had been carved entirely from pure ice.
Upon the altar floated a constantly twisting mass of pale blue light, radiating a cold that seemed to approach absolute zero.
The phantom of the Cold God.
"At last, this day has come!"
"My mission is finally coming to an end!"
The Three-Eyed Raven flapped its wings as it stared at the altar, its voice filled with emotion.
At that very moment, the phantom seemed to sense something and began gradually becoming more substantial.
"Quick!"
"Bran, prepare the seal!"
"Galon, you have only one minute!"
As soon as the words fell, the Three-Eyed Raven and Bran began burning their own life force, casting the magic of the Old Gods to suppress the Cold God's phantom.
Within only a few breaths, the phantom of the Cold God began to dim.
Galon seized the opportunity.
He closed his eyes and opened his soul completely.
Deep within his soul, the colossal tree that had once bestowed upon him the blessing of the Old Gods appeared once more.
Its branches, woven from stars and dreams, flourished across his entire spiritual world.
Then...
As though sensing something, countless roots emerged from the void.
Before Galon could react, they suddenly pierced through his soul.
The roots dragged his soul into the great tree, and at the very center of its trunk, a face resembling Galon's gradually emerged.
"Ugh..."
The instant the face opened its mouth, the countless faces covering the trunk all seemed to take on features resembling Galon's.
"Become one with me!"
The magnificent voice echoed throughout the spiritual realm.
Then countless streams of green power representing the Old Gods spread from the spiritual world into reality, eventually forming an enormous green fist.
The green fist gently pressed against the phantom of the Cold God.
Pop.
There was no earth-shattering explosion.
No furious curse of defiance.
Only the faint sound of a bubble being punctured.
The roots of the Old Gods entered the phantom of the Cold God like greedy serpents, gradually breaking it apart, absorbing it, and sealing it away.
Life and death returned to balance once more, all ultimately returning to the Old Gods.
When the final trace of the Cold God's phantom disappeared, the green fist returned to the spiritual world.
As the power of the Old Gods faded from sight, the face of Galon at the center of the tree slowly closed its eyes.
But it did not disappear.
It was as though a place had been prepared there for Galon after his death.
And the instant the face's eyes closed completely, Galon's soul appeared once more.
"Is it over?"
The next moment, his entire being returned to the real world.
Roar!
Placidusax seemed to sense the strange change in its master's soul and released a delighted roar.
"It's over!"
The Three-Eyed Raven answered weakly.
The raven that was Bran flapped its wings feebly, but its joy was impossible to conceal.
"Galon, you did it!"
Galon breathed a sigh of relief.
His gaze swept across the endless snowstorm before turning toward the Wall in the distance.
"The battle is finally coming to an end..."
At that same moment, on the battlefield in the Haunted Forest.
Every Other.
Every wight.
They all suddenly stopped as though their power had been cut off.
The blue flames in their eyes went out in an instant.
Crash!
Hundreds of thousands of bodies collapsed simultaneously onto the snow, crumbling into dust and bones.
The battlefield fell into absolute silence.
Then came a disbelieving cheer.
It quickly swelled into a roar that shook the heavens and earth.
"We won!"
"We survived!"
"Lord Glover won!"
"Long live Lord Glover!"
The countless cries eventually became a single name.
Glover!
Every survivor, whether noble of the Seven Kingdoms, wildling, or giant, shouted the name of the hero, Glover.
Even Barristan, who had been plunged into grief by the king's death, could not help raising his head.
'The king is dead. He has no children or brothers.'
'Where does this kingdom go from here? Who will rule this devastated land?'
'Without a king, the Seven Kingdoms will surely fall into another struggle for power.'
'Unless... the hero Glover...?'
Barristan Selmy silently reflected upon Galon's deeds over the years.
'At this moment, perhaps only Glover possesses enough prestige to stabilize the realm.'
'And only he has the authority to sit securely upon the Iron Throne...'
Gradually, the light in Barristan's eyes grew brighter.
At last, he made his decision.
He would nominate Galon Glover as king.
Soon, as the cheers faded and the survivors began clearing the battlefield, news of Gendry's death finally reached the others.
Just as Barristan had anticipated, the atmosphere of celebration was immediately replaced by a far more pressing crisis.
Edmure Tully, Yohn Royce, Davon Lannister, Mace Tyrell, Ser Poncus, Princess Arianne, and the other nobles of the Seven Kingdoms gathered around the king's body, looking at one another in silence.
For a time, none of them knew what to do next.
As for the North, Galon had not yet returned, and the southern nobles had no intention of interfering in northern affairs.
Greatjon, however, could not resist voicing his thoughts to the other northern lords.
"If you ask me, the king has no children or brothers. Why not simply make Lord Protector Glover the new king?"
"He's the hero who saved the world and its people!"
His words immediately struck a chord with everyone.
"That's right. Why shouldn't we choose Lord Glover as king?"
Those words were like a spark falling onto dry kindling.
"Exactly! Only he can protect us!"
"He has a dragon!"
"He's the Lord Protector! Now that the king is gone, he's the king!"
"I'll follow Glover!"
The wave of voices began with the northern army and quickly spread to the Iron Islands, Riverlands, Vale, and the wildlings.
In the end, even Arianne expressed her willingness to support him.
Only the Stormlands, Westerlands, and Reach remained.
Davon and Mace wore grim expressions. Neither wanted Galon to seize the Iron Throne so easily.
But faced with the overwhelming cheers, especially when even their own bannermen joined in, the two exchanged a glance.
Neither dared to openly object.
Ser Poncus, meanwhile, looked utterly dejected.
House Baratheon had been completely wiped out.
The future of the Stormlands and Storm's End was uncertain, and he had no heart left to concern himself with the Iron Throne.
"My lords!"
Amid the deafening cries, Barristan held the dead Gendry in his arms and addressed the nobles of the Seven Kingdoms.
"We should first finish clearing the battlefield and return to the Wall."
"As for the affairs of the Seven Kingdoms, there is no harm in waiting for Lord Glover to return, hearing what he intends to do, and deciding then."
Everyone understood the meaning behind his words.
'Even the former king's Kingsguard supports Glover becoming king.'
'If I oppose him, can I really change the course of events?'
'Besides, he has a dragon.'
Mace shook his head and decided to follow the will of the others and support Galon becoming king.
Davon, however, still deeply resented Galon because of the territories he had been forced to surrender.
Even knowing which way the tide was turning, he still intended to return to Castle Black and ask Tywin what he thought before making a final decision.
Several hours later, the survivors finished clearing the battlefield and returned to the Wall.
At the same time, Galon was riding Placidusax back from the Land of Always Winter.
Elsewhere, after learning that Glover possessed a dragon as well, Daenerys Targaryen mounted her own dragon and began flying north toward the North.
The final battle that would determine the future of the Seven Kingdoms was about to begin.