Chapter 25: Slaying the White Walkers
Seeing the danger ahead, Robb quickly led the Winterfell guards forward to reinforce the line, helping the shield bearers withstand the relentless pressure of the wights.
Behind them, the dragonglass spearmen's arms had gone numb. Spearheads stabbed in and tore free again and again, each thrust dropping another wight. Before long, a thick mound of corpses had piled up in front of the shield wall.
Using the bodies as stepping stones, the wights began vaulting over the shields with alarming ease.
The spearmen scrambled to stab the ones that made it through, but it was clear this was no long-term solution—the line was fragile, and it wouldn't hold much longer.
Saelen charged in, swinging Ice in wide arcs to relieve the pressure. Facing the densely packed wights, he abandoned finesse entirely. There was no need for elegant technique—only brutal, repeated horizontal sweeps. Each swing cleared the space in front of the shields in an instant.
Robb seized the opening and roared,
"Now! Raise the shields—advance a few steps! Get up onto the pile of bodies!"
He shoved the soldiers on either side forward as he shouted.
The men understood immediately. They advanced in unison, climbing onto the mound of corpses and re-forming the shield wall atop it. The dragonglass spearmen followed close behind, quickly reestablishing their formation.
Saelen fought like a tireless machine, repeating the same left-right sweeps without pause, cutting down every wight that rushed forward. Once he saw the formation had stabilized, he withdrew—nearly tripping over frozen limbs as he did.
The wights surged again, but this time the defenders held the advantage of terrain. The shield wall absorbed the impact, and the spearmen were able to strike calmly, dropping every wight that came too close.
In the distance, the three White Walker leaders finally lost patience.
One of them raised its crystalline sword with a single hand, assuming the posture of a javelin thrower. Its body twisted violently—and the ice sword left its grip.
The weapon screamed through the air.
BOOM.
The ice blade punched straight through a shield and the man behind it, carrying both backward with terrifying force. It continued on, impaling an archer who had been firing from the rear. The sword drove both men into the frozen ground at an angle, skewering them together like candied hawthorn on a stick.
Frost spread instantly from their wounds. Within moments, their bodies stiffened, a layer of ice blooming across their skin.
The archer died with his eyes wide open, as if unable to believe he could be struck down while standing so far from the front.
A chill ran through everyone who witnessed it.
Only Robb remained steady. He shouted without hesitation,
"Rear ranks—shields up! Move forward and fill the gap!"
Gaia, one of the dragonglass spearmen, felt a wave of relief wash over him. He had thrown himself flat the instant he sensed danger—otherwise, he would have been part of that grisly skewer. Even so, he cursed under his breath.
Damn White Walkers… What kind of monster throws a sword like that?
Then again—they aren't human, are they?
Robb's voice cut through the chaos again.
Gaia glanced left and right, swallowed hard, and didn't hesitate any longer. He dropped his spear, grabbed a shield from the ground, and rushed forward to plug the breach.
The wights lunged immediately, slamming into his shield with crushing force.
The line held—barely.
Gaia felt the violent tremors coursing through his arms as he braced the shield with all his strength, slamming his shoulder against it.
For a moment, he prayed to both the old gods and the new, begging for mercy.
The next moment, another thought surfaced—whether I live or die tonight, I'll be remembered as a hero sung by bards.
He laughed inwardly at the absurdity of it.
A gutter rat from Flea Bottom in King's Landing—how could someone like him ever have imagined fighting shoulder to shoulder with such legendary warriors?
All of this… all of it had only become possible after he chose to follow Saelen.
The White Walkers, of course, cared nothing for the thoughts of insignificant humans.
Seeing that its first throw had failed to shatter the human line, one of the White Walkers turned calmly and drew another crystalline longsword from the saddle of a wight-horse. It raised the blade overhead with one hand, its body once again assuming the flawless posture of a javelin thrower.
The next instant, its torso twisted violently.
The ice blade tore free from its grip.
The air shrieked.
Saelen's eyelids twitched violently as he roared,
"Dodge it!"
This thing is completely beyond reason…
Gaia heard that terrifying scream of air again. He squeezed his eyes shut and shouted with everything he had,
"Saelen will win! Shield-bearer Gaia will win!"
BOOM.
The ice sword struck the exact same spot.
Shield and man were blasted backward together, driven into the frozen ground at an angle in the same grotesque posture as before.
So this is what it feels like to be skewered like candied fruit…
Gaia murmured faintly.
Saelen's eyes went red with fury.
He remembered this young guard—brave, loyal, someone who had followed him through multiple raids against the wildlings.
To die like this…
Seeing the White Walker reach for yet another ice sword, Saelen roared at Gendry,
"Give me a dragonglass spear!"
Gendry didn't hesitate. The spear was already in Saelen's hands.
Saelen judged the distance, broke into a sprint, and hurled the spear with every ounce of strength he had.
Whissh!
The White Walker leader twisted aside with unnatural agility. The spear grazed its arm and continued on, impaling three wights behind it in a single line.
Saelen cursed under his breath.
The White Walker had now fully locked onto him.
The ice sword flew again.
Saelen kicked Gendry hard, sending him flying clear, his eyes fixed on the incoming blade. He raised Ice and struck with all his strength.
CLANG!
A thunderous impact rang out.
Saelen's arms went numb, his wrists screaming in pain. Ice flew from his hands and crashed to the ground. The ice sword buried itself in the earth at his feet.
Saelen grabbed the hilt.
A bone-deep chill surged into his body. He grit his teeth, ripped the blade free with one hand, sprinted forward, and hurled it back.
Whissh!
The sword pierced two wights and embedded itself into the ground at the White Walker's feet, its hilt trembling.
Saelen retrieved Ice and raised his hand, making a crude, unmistakable gesture.
The White Walker understood.
It roared in fury, yanked the sword from the ground, sent wights flying aside, and strode toward Saelen in long, crushing steps.
Saelen grinned.
Good. Anger means weakness.
"Gendry, hold this flank!"
"Yes, my lord!"
"Robb, keep the formation steady. I'll deal with this one."
Robb said nothing—only nodded grimly.
Saelen charged.
Wights in his path were cut down without mercy. At the last moment, he accelerated, swinging Ice in a savage downward arc.
The White Walker raised its blade to block.
CLINK.
The sound was sharp and crystalline. It felt like striking solid ice.
Saelen's hands went numb. He drove Ice into the ground to steady himself.
The White Walker staggered backward several steps before bracing itself, then roared and charged again.
Saelen roared back.
Steel and ice collided.
Clang!
Clink!
Crash!
Man and monster exchanged over a hundred blows, carving out a wide clearing. Any wight foolish enough to stray too close was hacked apart instantly, while the rest were driven back by the White Walker's furious commands.
Saelen felt his stamina draining fast.
The White Walker did not.
I have to end this now… Robb's line won't hold much longer.
Saelen suddenly flung a dragonglass dagger.
The White Walker reacted instantly, knocking it aside.
That moment was all Saelen needed.
He pressed the attack relentlessly. The ice armor rang again and again as Ice scraped across it, hissing and steaming as white vapor burst forth. Cracks spread rapidly across the crystalline plates.
Then Saelen deliberately exposed his midsection.
The White Walker took the bait.
Saelen didn't dodge.
Ice drove straight into its chest.
The reaction was violent.
White steam exploded outward as the blade burned through the magic holding the creature together. Cracks raced across its body.
With a piercing scream, the White Walker shattered—like glass—into countless ice fragments.
Across the battlefield, dozens of wights collapsed simultaneously.
The pressure vanished.
Saelen dropped to one knee.
The price was steep.
A blade had torn through his armor and carved a palm-length wound across his abdomen. Blood froze instantly under the lingering cold, sealing the wound in ice.
Then—
Two more White Walkers stepped forward, ice swords in hand.
Saelen forced himself upright, leaning on Ice, and smiled bitterly.
So… round two, then.