Boom—!
Winter's colossal body landed in the center of the courtyard, the resulting shockwave sending countless snowflakes swirling into the air.
Every wildling in the courtyard.
Whether it was the unruly tribal chieftains or the fearless Tormund, all took several steps back in unison.
Feeling that they were still too conspicuous, they actually dropped to the ground, trying to minimize their presence.
"That... what kind of monster is that... a dragon?"
A wildling chieftain, prostrate in the snow, asked in terror.
"Can... can we eat it?"
Tormund was the only one still barely standing.
He gripped his bone axe tightly, veins bulging on his forehead, his Adam's apple bobbing frantically.
He asked a question no one had expected.
This scene made the corner of the eyes of the Night's Watchmen standing ready twitch uncontrollably.
They finally understood why Lynn said wildlings were actually quite simple.
Their thought process was indeed different from normal people.
Winter ignored the insignificant ants.
Its three massive heads, six lava-like golden vertical pupils, all focused on Lynn.
Then, it let out a low growl filled with coquettishness, took massive steps, and carefully leaned in.
One head rubbed against Lynn's chest.
One head tried to swallow his head whole.
And one head noticed Ygritte beside Lynn, whose face was pale with fright.
It stretched its neck curiously and sniffed gently with its nose.
Ygritte went rigid, forgetting even to breathe.
Seeming to smell a familiar scent on Ygritte, it finally relaxed its guard.
"Alright, that's enough."
Lynn patted the largest middle head, soothing it with a few phrases in High Valyrian.
Winter immediately became incredibly docile, lying down obediently like three large dogs trying to please their master.
This miraculous scene thoroughly convinced the wildlings.
The man who could punch Tormund flying, who could create frost armor out of thin air, actually kept a legendary dragon as a pet?
was this something a human could do?
"Lynn!"
Tormund threw away his bone axe and rushed over in a few steps, his broad face written with fanatical adoration.
He pointed at the dragon, his eyes frighteningly bright.
"Uhh... can I borrow this big fella for a ride for a couple of days?"
"I'll just take a spin around the Frostfangs and flatten all those tribes that don't submit to you!"
Lynn: "..."
This fool really wasn't afraid of death.
---
The mess hall of Castle Black had never been so lively.
Usually a place where only a few hundred Night's Watchmen ate, it was now packed to the bursting point.
Crows in black and wildlings in motley furs sat on opposite sides of the hall, distinctly separated.
They didn't curse loudly, didn't draw weapons; they just silently gnawed on the black bread in their hands and drank the stew in their bowls.
At the same time, they stole glances at each other with incredibly complex expressions.
The atmosphere was so awkward you could cut sparks from it with a knife.
"Pah! What is this stuff!"
Tormund spat out the black bread that was hard as a rock, looking disgusted.
"Is this meant for humans?"
"The fodder we feed the mammoths in my tribe is softer than this!"
His loud voice rang out clearly in the quiet mess hall.
Several wildling chieftains nearby echoed his sentiments.
"Exactly! And this soup, it's as bland as snowmelt!"
"I want roast meat, the biggest chunks!"
A hot-tempered Night's Watch officer slammed the table and stood up.
"Be grateful you have anything to eat! You savages, pickier than lords!"
"Who are you calling a savage?!"
"You're the fucking savage!"
Tormund also stood up, eyes widening like copper bells.
Just as a brawl was about to break out.
"Sit down, all of you."
A calm voice came from the head table.
The entire mess hall went instantly silent.
Everyone instinctively looked at the young man sitting beside Lord Commander Mormont.
Lynn put down his cutlery and looked around at everyone.
"I know you don't like the look of each other."
"But for the next few days, you'd all better behave yourselves."
He looked at the wildling chieftains.
"Starting tomorrow, your people will begin crossing the Wall to the Gift."
"I don't care what your rules were beyond the Wall. Once you're in the South, you follow Southern rules."
"I will allocate land, provide seeds and tools."
"Anyone who dares to burn, kill, or pillage on Northern soil, I will hang him from the walls of Winterfell, and then take Winter to wipe his entire tribe off the map."
He then looked at the disgruntled Night's Watchmen.
"The same goes for you."
"Since we have chosen alliance, they are no longer enemies, but citizens of the North, allies in our defense against the Long Night."
"Anyone who dares to provoke them, treating them like enemies, I will show him the meaning of true cruelty."
Lynn's words sent a chill down everyone's spine.
Ygritte sat beside Lynn, her grey eyes shimmering with brilliance.
Like a newlywed wife, she constantly refilled Lynn's wine and served him food.
Her diligent manner left Tormund, watching from not far away, dumbfounded.
Since when did this girl kissed by fire become so docile?
She wasn't like this in the tribe, was she?
Usually, she'd shoot someone with an arrow at the slightest disagreement.
It was like she was a different person.
---
Lord Commander's Tower, Study.
Under the dim lamplight, there were only three people.
Lynn, Lord Commander Mormont, and the First Ranger, Benjen Stark.
"I am old, Lynn."
Jeor Mormont looked at the cold moon outside the window, his voice carrying the weariness of laying down a heavy burden.
"I have served the Night's Watch all my life. I have witnessed its degradation and seen too much death."
He turned around, his muddy eyes reflecting Lynn's young and steady face.
"I used to think the duty of the Night's Watch was to keep the wildlings beyond the Wall."
"Now I know."
"This war was never something we could handle from the start."
Benjen Stark stood silently to the side.
But the gravity on his face said everything.
"Times have changed."
Mormont spoke slowly.
"The Night's Watch needs a new leader."
"A leader who can see the future, who can unite all the living, who can lead us to win this war."
He walked to the desk and picked up the ornament symbolizing the Lord Commander's status.
A chain made of obsidian and silver.
He placed it solemnly in front of Lynn.
"From today on, you are the 998th Lord Commander of the Night's Watch."
Lynn had thought Mormont would delegate power, but he hadn't expected it to come so directly, so suddenly.
"Lord Commander, this is irregular."
"The Night's Watch election requires everyone to vote."
Lynn frowned.
"Rules?"
Mormont smiled.
"Don't underestimate yourself."
"Right now, your word is the rule here!"
"Voting is just a formality."
"Lynn," Benjen spoke up too.
His voice was incredibly serious.
"The Lord Commander is right."
"Only you can keep those wildlings in line."
"No one but you can shoulder this burden."
Lynn fell silent.
He looked at the cold chain on the table, feeling the weight of the responsibility.
Indeed, he could not refuse.
This wasn't just a title, but a brand-new identity.
"Will you be the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers, the shield that guards the realms of men?"
Lynn looked at the old man who had dedicated his life to the Wall, and finally nodded slowly.
"I will."
Mormont revealed a gratified smile.
He picked up the chain and placed it around Lynn's neck personally.
The cold metal touched his skin, yet Lynn felt his blood burning.
"My mission is complete."
Mormont let out a long sigh, his whole being seemingly much lighter.
"I want to go to Oldtown, see the Hightower, smell the honeyed wine, and spend my final days in the warm sun."
The old man looked at Lynn with expectation in his eyes.
"Don't let the Long Night swallow our last light."
The next day.
When the first rays of morning sun shone upon the Wall.
Lynn, draped in the black cloak of the Lord Commander, stood alone atop the seven-hundred-foot ice wall.
The biting wind whipped his cloak, making it snap loudly.
Below, countless Free Folk were being guided by the Night's Watch through the deep tunnel, stepping onto the soil of the Gift.
They cheered, embraced, and kissed the land their ancestors had dreamed of for generations.
Tears of joy melted the ice beneath their feet.
In the distance, the Haunted Forest remained dead silent.
Lynn gripped Longclaw at his waist, his gaze becoming incredibly firm.
He spoke to Jon beside him.
"My first order as Lord Commander."
"I will pay out of my own pocket to summon masons from all over the North to build stone houses for the wildlings with all speed!"
"And I will build a city in the Gift!"