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CaveLeather
On the walls of Castle Black, time seemed to freeze.
All the Night's Watchmen clung tightly to the battlements, their eyes bulging, their hearts forgetting to beat.
What had just happened?
Beyond the Wall, that white sea of death formed by countless corpses had just... stopped.
Then, the scene that would shatter the courage of all living men unfolded!
Crack...
The wight closest to the Night King stiffly twisted its neck.
Its empty eye sockets no longer faced the Wall, but... slowly turned toward the supreme King behind it!
Crack... Crack, crack!
As if a command had detonated a chain reaction within the army of the dead!
The second, the third, the ten thousandth!
Thousands upon thousands, an endless army of wights, as if manipulated by an invisible giant hand, turned around in unison!
Millions of eyes burning with eerie blue ghost fire simultaneously locked onto their sole creator, their absolute dominator—the Night King!
"Gods... Oh Gods..."
On the wall, an old Night's Watchman's legs gave out, and he collapsed to his knees, shaking like a leaf.
The scene before them had surpassed all their imagination of fear!
Myranda gripped her longbow so hard her knuckles turned white, her palms soaked in cold sweat.
She stared dazedly at the man standing before the millions of wights.
Just a snap of his fingers!
With just one snap, he made this undead scourge capable of destroying the world turn its coat on the battlefield!
This was not the power of a mortal.
This was a God!
A true God walking among men!
And at this moment, at the very front of the sea of death.
The Night King sat on his undead warhorse, and on that ice-sealed face unchanged for ten thousand years, for the first time, an emotion called "confusion" surfaced.
He couldn't understand.
Eight thousand years of accumulation, the wills of millions of dead, all branded with his soul mark.
He was their absolute master!
Why?
Why would they betray him?!
His gaze pierced through that sea of turned-coat death, finally locking dead onto that young man who looked as calm as the wind and clouds.
It was him!
It was he who used ice magic stronger than his own, an irresistible power, to snatch control of the entire army of the dead from him in an instant!
A rage and killing intent capable of destroying heaven and earth exploded from the Night King!
However, before he could make any move.
A more domineering will crossed the void, slamming ruthlessly into his mind!
It wasn't language, but an image!
In the image, a crow burning with bright blue ice flames wailed shrilly, its soul grabbed by an invisible giant hand, and then... bit by bit, crushed into the purest nothingness!
[He is dead.]
Lynn's thought carried no emotion.
The Night King's eerie blue eyes that had burned for ten thousand years contracted violently!
Him!
The culprit who turned him into this not-human-not-ghost form!
The mastermind entrenched beneath the weirwood roots, styling himself as the chess player of fate!
The Three-Eyed Raven!
He died?!
How was that possible! That old monster's soul and his previous physical body had long merged with the weirwood network of the entire world.
As long as there was one weirwood tree left in the world, he was immortal!
Unless...
The Night King's gaze fell on Lynn again.
He finally "saw" clearly.
In the depths of this young man's soul, there indeed remained a trace of the Three-Eyed Raven's aura.
That wasn't fusion, nor possession.
That was a trace left after being completely swallowed and digested, not even counting as residue!
The Night King fell silent.
That monstrous killing intent on him, enough to freeze the entire world, dissipated quietly like a popped balloon at this moment.
The hatred and anger burning for thousands of years in those eerie blue eyes also extinguished bit by bit.
Replaced by a bone-deep exhaustion, and a... relief like a heavy burden lifted.
His war was over.
His revenge that lasted thousands of years, his lonely and despairing mission, had actually ended in a way he never imagined.
Lynn sensed the fading of the opponent's killing intent.
It seemed his guess was right.
The Night King wasn't a born destroyer of worlds; he was more like a paranoid avenger.
And now, his great vengeance was exacted, his paranoia lost its meaning.
He was not Lynn's enemy.
Lynn slowly raised his hand, waving lightly at that sea of wights still maintaining a confrontational stance.
Swish—
Millions of wights turned around in unison again, facing the Wall once more.
But that suffocating oppressiveness was gone.
They just stood there quietly, like an army waiting for the new king's inspection.
The Night King moved.
He drove his undead warhorse, walking slowly toward Lynn.
The army of wights before him parted like a tide to both sides, making way for their old king to walk toward the new god.
"He... he's coming over!"
"What is he doing?!"
The Night's Watch on the wall panicked again.
Myranda subconsciously blocked in front of Lynn, her longbow drawn to full moon, killing intent revealed.
"He is not an enemy now, and... at this level... he is not my opponent either."
Lynn's voice rang out calmly.
Myranda froze, then obediently lowered her bow and stepped aside.
The Night King stopped less than ten steps from Lynn and dismounted.
That tall figure cast a huge shadow in front of Lynn.
He looked at Lynn, then slowly raised his hand, pointing at the Valyrian steel sword at Lynn's waist.
Dark Sister.
A thought sounded in Lynn's mind.
[That sword... it once belonged to me, Brynden Rivers.]
It really was him!
Bloodraven! The Targaryen bastard, former Hand of the King, Lord Commander of the Night's Watch!
"Do you want it back?" Lynn held the hilt and asked.
The Night King shook his head slowly.
A trace of relief flashed in his eerie blue eyes.
[It doesn't belong to me anymore.]
[It belongs to... the one who can end all this.]
With that, the Night King turned and took something from the saddle of his undead warhorse.
A longbow.
Snow-white throughout, as if carved from ten-thousand-year-old ice!
No, that wasn't ice!
That was Weirwood heart!
The oldest, hardest, and also a source of magic!
On the bow, countless ancient runes flowed slowly like living things, a majestic force of nature rushing forth!
The Night King held the longbow with both hands, presenting it to Lynn.
[Yours.]
[Consider it... a gift from the Old Gods.]
Lynn didn't act coy; he reached out and took the Weirwood Divine Bow.
As the longbow entered his hand, a cold yet warm touch came; the nature magic within him instantly resonated strongly with it!
He could even hear a bow spirit that had slept for a thousand years awakening inside the bow!
[Ding! You have obtained Legendary Weapon: Weirwood Divine Bow!]
[Heart of Winter: Can greatly amplify the effects of elemental magic such as Nature Magic, Fire Magic, Ice Magic, etc. Can automatically generate arrows containing magic power (Ice Arrow, Vine Arrow, Explosive Arrow...), possesses self-repair and growth capabilities.]
Lynn put away the longbow and nodded slightly to the Night King.
"Thanks."
The Night King didn't rise.
He slowly turned his head, gazing at the Land of Always Winter where he had lived for thousands of years.
His war was over, his mission completed.
But where... could he go?
This world no longer had a place for him.
Looking at his lonely and desolate back, Lynn suddenly spoke.
"Want to see what a world without the Three-Eyed Raven looks like?"
The Night King's body shook slightly.
He slowly raised his head.
A world without the Three-Eyed Raven?
Lynn didn't say more, turning to walk toward the Wall.
"Let's go, your wights are too conspicuous."
The Night King was silent for a long time.
Finally, he slowly stood up, mounted his horse, and silently followed behind Lynn.
The sea of wights behind him also followed their king, moving slowly toward the Land of Always Winter.
The Night's Watch on the wall had completely gone mad.
They looked at Lynn as if looking at a living god.
Not only did he stop the army of the dead single-handedly, now he was taking that terrifying King of Winter and his army of millions... back to the Land of Always Winter?!
However, the Night King suddenly extended a hand, pointing to the deepest part of the Land of Always Winter.
His ancient and weary thought sounded again in Lynn's mind.
[Follow me.]
[I'll take you to a place.]
[There, is my starting point.]
The Night King's thought paused.
Lynn's footsteps stopped.