Chapter 45: Power of Samwell
The North, the Lands of Always Winter — the Haunted Forest
"Samwell Tarly! Is… is this the divine revelation you were talking about? Are you sure these things aren't here to send us straight to the Seven Hells?"
Eddison Tollett's mouth never stopped moving. No matter where he was or what situation he found himself in, there was always an endless stream of complaints pouring out of him.
"Awooo—"
At that moment, a pack of forest wolves commonly seen beyond the Wall emerged near the scouting party. Since they were closing in from all directions, their numbers were difficult to determine.
A rough estimate suggested there were around twenty wolves, all staring at them with bloodthirsty gazes, as though they couldn't wait to tear them apart.
"They're here to help us, of course."
Jon glanced at them and answered Eddison Tollett casually.
Under the slightly astonished gazes of the Night's Watch brothers, Jon raised his hand and "greeted" the surrounding forest wolves.
To the others, it looked as though Jon had simply waved his hand. In reality, as the wolves charged forward, Jon had already activated the Magic Stone function of his system.
The Magic Stone originated from a special item in Jon's previous life when he played games. It differed slightly from dragonglass. This strange item had once been used to seal the final boss of that game.
That final boss—the so-called Demon King—possessed the power to summon countless magical creatures and even strengthen them during later stages.
What Jon had obtained was the initial authority of the Magic Stone. After activating it, he could manipulate a form of energy known as Blood Magic.
Blood Magic could be converted from Soul Energy at a ratio of two to one—two units of Soul Energy producing one unit of Blood Magic.
Back in the secret chamber beneath the Red Keep, Jon had acquired nearly twenty thousand units of Blood Magic energy from Visenya's experimental subjects.
With so many matters demanding his attention afterward—and with dragonglass already available—Jon had never found a proper opportunity to test this power.
This mission beyond the Wall finally gave him the perfect chance to experiment with the Magic Stone.
Due to his low authority level, Jon could currently only use the Magic Stone to transform corpses and wolves, converting them into undead creatures and Mo Sha Hounds.
Undead corpses were too grotesque and bloody, so Jon chose the latter. Mo Sha Hounds were wolf-like magical creatures with terrifying biting speed.
As long as they could move, these creatures would continue tearing at their enemies until they crushed their throats.
To the Night's Watch brothers, Jon was merely greeting the wolves. In reality, streams of Blood Magic energy surged from his hand like writhing serpents.
"Whimper—"
Under the stunned gazes of the men, the forest wolves suddenly began to whine as if invisible hands were gripping their throats.
Bang! Bang!
Amid the sickening sounds of flesh bursting, nearly ten wolves failed to withstand the Blood Magic and exploded into clouds of blood mist.
"Whimper…"
When the carnage ended, the stunned Night's Watchmen saw ten blood-soaked Mo Sha Hounds standing before them.
These creatures had grayish-brown fur, with blood-red manes running along their necks and backs. Against the frozen landscape, they looked like living flames.
"W-what are these things? Some kind of ancient witchcraft?"
The short and broad Grenn swallowed hard before forcing out the question.
"They're soldiers sent by the gods to aid us," Jon replied calmly. "Mo Sha Hounds. They'll help us find our missing brothers of the Night's Watch."
As he spoke, Jon pulled several items from within his cloak—personal belongings taken from the missing rangers.
Wolves naturally possessed keen senses of smell. Enhanced by Blood Magic, the Mo Sha Hounds' tracking abilities were pushed to terrifying extremes.
"Find the owners of these items. Be cautious. If you discover anything, don't attack. Wait for us."
"Whimper…"
One particularly large Mo Sha Hound let out an obedient whine, clearly understanding the command.
In the next instant, it shot into the forest like an arrow loosed from a bow. The remaining Mo Sha Hounds spread out, surrounding Jon and the others protectively.
The aura emanating from these creatures was deeply unsettling. The Night's Watch horses had been restless from the start—if not for Eddison Tollett and the others calming them, the animals might have bolted long ago.
"Let's move. The rest of them will guide us to the one that ran ahead."
After giving the order, Jon mounted his horse and signaled the others to follow.
At this moment, the Night's Watch brothers accompanying him regarded Jon as something close to a god. They finally understood why he claimed to have received a divine revelation.
What they had witnessed could only be called a miracle. If not for the blood and scattered flesh staining the snow, they might have thought it was all a dream.
Snowfall had been light in the Haunted Forest recently, so they hadn't switched to ponies. Instead, they rode the hardy northern horses commonly used by the Night's Watch.
These horses possessed exceptional cold resistance and endurance. Though not fast, they were far better suited to forest travel than southern breeds.
"Whimper…"
As they advanced, warning cries came from the front-left. The Mo Sha Hounds had discovered something.
"Stay alert!"
At Jon's command, the surrounding Mo Sha Hounds tightened their formation. These creatures were bound to him through a unique connection, allowing instant communication.
"Grrr—"
Receiving the order, the Mo Sha Hounds began to growl menacingly.
Rustle… rustle…
Movement stirred within the dense undergrowth ahead.
"Whimper—"
Squelch—
Several dark figures burst from the bushes, tearing through black thorny brambles.
As they forced their way out, chunks of rotting flesh and tattered clothing were scraped away by the thorns.
Neigh—!
Jon's horse reared back in terror upon seeing the figures.
What emerged were not men, but monsters—wights.
Their flesh had long since rotted. Black blood and pus oozed from torn wounds, dripping onto the snow.
They should have been dead. Yet they moved.
Cold blue lights flickered in their eyes—or empty sockets—like ghostly flames in the night.
That deathly blue glow seemed to pierce straight into the soul, carrying the chill of the grave itself.
A foul stench filled the air. Some bodies were little more than skeletons; others had rotting intestines hanging freely.
Judging from their clothing—black cloaks and furs—the group included both fallen brothers of the Night's Watch and wildlings.
They moved at a steady jogging pace, far faster than the shambling undead from old tales.
"S-Sam… w-what are those things?"
Eddison Tollett's teeth chattered as he forced the words out.
The others were no better. They could only grip their reins, frozen in fear.
Clang—
Jon didn't answer. He drew Longclaw, the Valyrian steel sword, from his belt.
Leaping from his horse, he advanced without looking back.
"I don't care what they are. They're in our way—so I'll cut them down."
"Howl— Awooo—!"
At Jon's command, the Mo Sha Hounds surged forward from all sides.
They moved in packs of three, encircling each wight and searching for openings.
Swish— Crack—
Longclaw flashed in Jon's right hand. The greatsword felt as light as a dagger under his monstrous strength.
Jon had already spent Soul Energy to enhance this body's power and combat skill.
As he cleanly beheaded a wight, Grenn and the others finally forced down their fear.
They didn't know what these monsters truly were—but they knew one thing.
If they didn't fight, they wouldn't survive.
Gripping their weapons, the brothers of the Night's Watch prepared to stake their lives against the dead.
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