[Impossible... absolutely impossible!]
The "Robert Arryn" kneeling in the snow, his childish face twisted with extreme shock, displayed a hideousness completely incongruous with his age.
The Three-Eyed Raven's consciousness roared madly within his new shell.
Music Magic was an ancient art he had barely glimpsed after spending hundreds of years communicating countless times with the Children of the Forest.
Nature Magic was the ultimate mystery he exchanged for by merging with the weirwood tree, abandoning his freedom and flesh.
He gave the "seeds" of these two magics to Lynn as a vicious trap.
That chaotic and massive flow of information was enough to shatter the soul of any mortal attempting to spy on the domain of gods.
Even if one luckily succeeded, without decades or even centuries of bitter cultivation, it would be absolutely impossible to truly enter the door.
But this man before him...
What did he do?
He just closed his eyes and stood there for a while!
Less than a minute in total!
Flowers bloomed on the frozen earth beneath his feet, the faint light from his fingertips healed wounds, and his casual humming could manipulate souls!
This level of control... this proficiency...
It was even more exquisite than his own!
This wasn't just entering the door; this was fucking moving the entire temple home!
A thousand years!
He spent fully over two thousand years!
Only to grasp the power of these two magics to his current level.
And this young man, used only one minute.
Why?!
Why him!!!
A sense of despair and absurdity deeper than physical imprisonment completely destroyed the Three-Eyed Raven's last shred of reason.
He felt like a pauper who had worked hard all his life to finally buy a house.
Only to step out the door and see his neighbor casually mold an identical one out of mud, complete with a garden!
Where was the justice in that?
"It seems you are not very satisfied."
"I can already smell the vicious thoughts about me in your mind."
Lynn's voice pulled him back from the edge of collapse.
He walked up to "Robert Arryn," looking down at this old monster who had been completely played.
[No... no... Master... I...]
The Three-Eyed Raven's consciousness was chaotic; he couldn't even form a complete sentence.
"There is something else in your soul."
Lynn's voice was plain, yet it made the Three-Eyed Raven's soul tremble violently.
"I can feel them hiding very deep."
"Will you hand them over yourself, or... should I do it?"
[No... nothing else! Really nothing else!]
The Three-Eyed Raven's thought was full of panic.
[I gave you everything I know! I swear!]
"Is that so?"
Lynn wasted no more words.
He extended a finger, tapping lightly on "Robert Arryn's" forehead.
"It seems you prefer being passive."
"Then let me give you a treat first."
BOOM—!!!
A terrifying spiritual force indescribable in words, like a bursting glacier, carrying a will cold enough to freeze the soul, slammed ruthlessly into the Three-Eyed Raven's sea of consciousness!
In that instant, the Three-Eyed Raven felt his soul thrown into a juicer made of ice.
Every thought, every memory, every shred of emotion was ruthlessly crushed, torn, and then filtered and screened again and again by that domineering power!
[AHHHH—!!!]
Shrill screams echoed on the spiritual level.
He felt his thousand-year foundation was like a joke before the other party.
That wasn't power on the same level at all!
If his spiritual power was a sea, then Lynn's spiritual power was an endless frozen ocean large enough to cover the entire world!
[I'll talk! I'll talk! I'll tell everything!]
The Three-Eyed Raven collapsed completely.
He dared not hide anything anymore.
He unreservedly contributed the secret from the deepest part of his soul, the one he originally intended as his final trump card.
It was a meditation method.
An ancient secret technique that allowed spiritual power to grow constantly during sleep, keeping the soul immortal in the river of time.
This was the root of how he could live for a thousand years and possess such massive spiritual power!
This was the foundation of all his power!
The moment this information flooded into his mind, the system panel automatically appeared before Lynn's eyes.
[New skill detected: Three-Eyed Raven's Meditation Technique]
[Learn?]
"Learn."
[Three-Eyed Raven's Meditation Technique (Beginner): 1/10]
"System, upgrade Meditation Technique to Legendary."
Lynn still had over ten thousand experience points, completely sufficient.
[Confirm consumption of 8610 Experience Points to upgrade Three-Eyed Raven's Meditation Technique to Legendary rank?]
"Confirm."
[Current Remaining Experience: 1621.2]
Another massive torrent of information flooded in.
But this time, Lynn felt completely different.
If the previous magic upgrades were acquiring methods to use tools.
Then this time, it was an ultimate enhancement of his own soul!
He felt his spiritual world expand infinitely in that instant.
An unprecedented sense of control filled his soul.
[Spirit: 36 (1%)] → [Spirit: 45 (20%)]
His spiritual power, in this instant, skyrocketed again!
[Three-Eyed Raven's Meditation Technique (Legendary) Peak Human Art: Sleep restores spiritual power, possession, spiritual power application...]
Lynn slowly opened his eyes.
He looked at the Three-Eyed Raven who was completely limp in the snow, drained of soul, without even the strength to beg for mercy.
This old monster had no value anymore.
Keeping him would only be a disaster.
Others, like the small fry of House Bolton, could be toyed with.
But this Three-Eyed Raven absolutely could not be kept.
Lynn was also afraid of capsizing his boat.
Thinking this, Lynn drew "Dark Sister" from his waist.
Dark light flowed on the blade of that Valyrian steel sword.
[M... Master...]
Sensing that cold killing intent, a final survival instinct made the Three-Eyed Raven issue a weak plea.
[You... you promised... to spare my life...]
"I promised to let the poor wretch inhabiting the White Walker body live."
A smile that could be called gentle appeared on Lynn's face.
"But he is the Night King, isn't he?"
"You, are just a... thief occupying my slave's body."
The Three-Eyed Raven's consciousness fell completely into darkness the moment he heard this sentence.
He finally understood.
This man, from the very beginning, never intended to let him live.
All his calculations, all his compromises, all his struggles...
Were just adding bricks and tiles to his ladder to godhood.
How ironic.
How... pathetic.
Squelch—!
A black sword light flashed.
No blood.
The head of the Winter Wight with Robert Arryn's face flew into the sky.
Immediately after, its entire body, starting from the severed neck, cracked and disintegrated inch by inch.
Not shattering into ice chunks, but directly turning into the tiniest ice crystal dust, dissipating without a trace in the cold wind.
Along with that ancient soul entrenched within it for a thousand years.
Completely wiped from this world.
The whole process was eerily quiet.
Myranda stood aside; from start to finish, she held her breath, daring not make any sound.
She looked at the man holding the longsword, standing quietly in the snow.
He created a miracle with his own hands, and destroyed a near-godlike ancient existence with his own hands.
And on his face, from beginning to end, there were no ripples.
As if he had merely flicked away an eyesore speck of dust.
An unprecedented awe, and a sickly fanaticism, wove madly in Myranda's heart.
To be able to follow such a master...
Was the greatest honor of her life!
Lynn sheathed Dark Sister.
He didn't look at the empty patch of snow again.
Keeping a thousand-year-old schemer for the New Year?
Only a dead enemy is a good enemy.
Lynn slowly raised his head, his gaze crossing Myranda's shoulder, casting toward the magnificent Wall.
"Here it comes."
He said softly.
Myranda paused, following his gaze, but saw nothing.
On the Wall, it was still dead silence.
But she knew Lynn's "here it comes" definitely didn't refer to those Night's Watchmen.
And just the moment Lynn's voice fell.
WOOO— WOOO— WOOO—!!!!
Three rapid and shrill horn blasts pierced the tranquility of the Northern morning!
That was the Night's Watch's highest level alert.
White Walkers attacking!
Chaos instantly erupted on the walls of Castle Black.
Countless Night's Watchmen rushed to the battlements, looking in horror at the Haunted Forest beyond the Wall.
They saw it.
At the edge of that dark forest, at the end of the horizon.
A massive white wave composed of death and ice was slowly rolling toward the Wall!
Countless wights gathered into a boundless ocean.
And at the very front of that sea of death, a tall figure rode an undead warhorse, standing quietly.
He wore a crown made of ice crystals, his eyes burning with eerie blue flames staring unblinkingly in the direction of Castle Black.
The Night King!
He had arrived!
With the anger and winter he had accumulated for eight thousand years, descending upon the world!
The moment the Night's Watchmen on the wall saw that figure, they were all scared out of their wits, their legs going soft.
"Gods..."
"Old Gods above... what is that..."
"We're dead... we're dead!"
Despair spread through the crowd like a plague.
However, amidst this apocalyptic scene, a figure slowly walked out from under the city gate.
It was Lynn.
He ignored the Night's Watchmen on the wall who had already collapsed.
He just raised his head, calmly looking at that cold king in the distance.
The Night King's gaze also fell on Lynn.
In his eerie blue eyes that had burned for ten thousand years, for the first time, a ripple appeared.
He could feel it.
This tiny human before him radiated a power from the same source as him, yet completely different.
However, Lynn was unhurried; he just shook his head.
He raised his right hand, facing the distant ocean of wights, and snapped his fingers lightly.
Snap.
A soft sound.
The world seemed to press the pause button at this moment.
The army of wights behind the Night King, the roar that was enough to make all Westeros tremble, came to an abrupt halt.
All wights' movements stiffened in place.
Their eyes flashing with blue light began to flicker violently.
Then...
In dead silence.
The wight closest to the Night King slowly, slowly turned around.
Its empty eye sockets no longer looked at the Wall.
But looked at its former King.
Immediately after, the second, the third...
Thousands upon thousands of wights turned around in unison.
Countless pairs of eyes burning with blue flames locked onto the Night King who still rode on the undead warhorse.
The whole world was dead silent.
The Night's Watchmen on the wall were completely dumbfounded.
They looked at the inconceivable scene outside the wall, their minds blank.
And the Night King, looking at his army of millions turning their coats on the battlefield, on that ice face unchanged for ten thousand years, finally, a crack appeared.
What is going on?