Chapter 31:
Atop the Wall, the wind cut like knives.
Standing seven hundred feet high on the ice wall, the view was so vast it inspired awe and fear.
Victor Pompey wore a thick black bearskin cloak and held a single-tube brass telescope (made with system-enhanced high-precision optical glass).
Beside him, Jon Snow and the senior officers of the Night's Watch stood shivering. Although last night's great victory had boosted their morale, facing the endless white terror to the north, fear still clung to them like a shadow.
"See that?"
Victor handed the telescope to Jon. "Three o'clock direction — that's their king."
Jon took the telescope and raised it to his eye.
In the lens, the figure he had seen in his nightmares appeared clearly.
The Night King.
He sat atop a dead warhorse, wearing an ice crown. His eyes, blue as stars, stared coldly at the Wall from several miles away. Beside him stood four White Walkers holding ice crystal spears.
"It's too far…" Jon lowered the telescope, his voice trembling. "At this distance, they're taunting us."
"Taunting?"
Victor chuckled softly and took out a long black case from his system space.
Click.
The case opened.
A sleek, specially modified rifle with a cold blue barrel and a simple optical scope was revealed.
[System Weapon: Divine Punisher · Prototype Sniper Rifle (Modified Version).]
[Ammunition: Special Dragonglass-tipped bullets (embedded with obsidian powder).]
[Effective Range: 1500 meters (up to 2000 meters with system-assisted aiming).]
"To ordinary men, this is called 'far.'"
Victor skillfully loaded the gunpowder, chambered the sharp special bullet, and rested the rifle on the ice parapet.
"But to House Pompey, this is called 'within range.'"
The surrounding Night's Watch brothers held their breath. They didn't understand what this iron tube was for, but the killing intent radiating from Victor kept them silent.
Victor shouldered the stock, looked through the scope, and locked the crosshairs on the Night King… and one of the White Walker generals beside him.
(Shooting the Night King directly would likely be blocked by magic. Killing a subordinate to establish dominance was more practical.)
Windage correction.
Gravity correction.
[System Assisted Aiming Activated.]
"Good morning, old icicle."
Victor's finger gently squeezed the trigger.
Bang——!!!
A crisp, sharp gunshot ripped through the silence of the Wall.
Unlike the roar of smoothbore muskets, this sound was cleaner, carrying the whistle of death.
Two seconds later.
In Jon's telescope view, something he would never forget in his lifetime happened.
The arrogant White Walker general standing beside the Night King suddenly shattered like a smashed ice sculpture!
Crack!
Its upper body exploded instantly, sending countless shards of ice and blue magical dust flying!
It didn't even have time to scream before it turned into a pile of ice fragments scattered on the snow.
For the first time, the Night King's eternally frozen face showed clear stiffness.
He whipped his head toward the Wall.
In those blue eyes, there was, for the first time, wariness.
He hadn't seen where the attack came from. No magical fluctuation, no whistling arrow — and his subordinate was simply gone?
"Wow."
Victor blew on the nonexistent smoke from the barrel and worked the bolt to eject the shell.
"Looks like the dragonglass bullet works well. The wind was a bit strong, so it drifted just a little."
Jon Snow's telescope nearly slipped from his hands.
He stared at Victor as if looking at a monster.
"You… you killed a White Walker from two miles away?"
"This was just a greeting, Jon."
Victor put away the rifle and patted Jon's stiff shoulder.
"Tell the brothers — don't be afraid. As long as they dare enter my range, whether god or ghost, all are equal."
…
Afternoon, north of the Wall, edge of the Haunted Forest.
Inside the large tent, the atmosphere was heavy.
Mance Rayder, King-Beyond-the-Wall, was chained to a post.
Before him stood fully armed Teutonic Knights and Victor Pompey, who sat on a chair covered with bearskin, sipping hot mulled wine.
Melisandre stood nearby, staring at Mance with fervent eyes.
"Burn him," she whispered in Victor's ear. "Though he is only a wildling king, his blood still carries the power of a 'king.' The Lord of Light would like it."
Mance Rayder looked coldly at the red priestess. "If you want to kill me, then kill me. Wildlings do not kneel. We came here to escape the army of the dead, not to become slaves."
"Who said I was going to burn you?"
Victor set down his wine cup and waved his hand. "Unchain the King-Beyond-the-Wall."
The Hound stepped forward and sliced the chains apart with one swing.
Mance rubbed his wrists and looked at Victor in confusion. "What do you want? If you want my people to kneel, I would rather die."
"I don't lack people who kneel, Mance."
Victor stood up and walked in front of him.
"What I lack are hands. Hands that can hold shovels, carry stones, and pull triggers."
Victor took out a sheepskin contract and slapped it on the table.
"I'm giving you a way to live."
"One hundred thousand wildlings (including the old, weak, women, and children) — I can let all of you move south of the Wall. I will assign the 'Gift' (the unused lands belonging to the Night's Watch) to you for farming and settlement."
Mance's eyes lit up. This was exactly what he had dreamed of.
"What's the price?"
"The price is — industrialization."
Victor raised three fingers.
"First, all able-bodied wildling men must join my 'Foreign Labor Corps.' I won't give you firearms, but I will give you shovels and pickaxes. You will dig sulfur, saltpeter, and coal. Those are the raw materials for making 'thunder.'"
"Second, all children must enter my schools to learn the Common Tongue and… mathematics." (Victor planned to assimilate the next generation.)
"Third, if any of your people dare to rob, rape, or kill south of the Wall…"
Victor pointed at the black muzzles of the cannons outside.
"I will turn you and the Gift into flat ground."
Mance Rayder looked at the contract, then at Victor's unyielding purple eyes.
This was a contract of servitude.
But it was indeed a path to survival.
Better to dig coal inside the Wall than become blue-eyed corpses outside it.
"We… accept."
Mance Rayder extended his rough hand. "As long as you can stop those dead things."
"Deal."
Victor shook his hand.
[Ding! Congratulations to the host for completing the mission: Incorporate the Wildlings!]
[Acquired Labor Force: 100,000!]
[Acquired Special Troop Type: Wildling Assault Teams (expert in mountain and guerrilla warfare).]
[Industrialization Process Accelerated: Mineral resources will experience explosive growth!]
…
After the negotiation ended, Victor walked out of the tent.
Melisandre seemed somewhat dissatisfied. "You're just letting that 'false king' go? The Lord of Light requires sacrifice…"
"Melisandre."
Victor interrupted her and pointed at the distant group of wildling refugees lining up to receive hot porridge and black bread, their eyes once again filled with hope.
"The value of living people is always greater than dead ones (even as sacrifices)."
"Besides…"
Victor looked up at the sky, where a few high dragon roars could faintly be heard.
They were far away, but they were real.
"The real 'great sacrifice' is flying in from the east."
"Don't you think… burning a few disobedient dragons would please your Lord of Light more than burning one wildling king?"
Melisandre was stunned, then her eyes exploded with unprecedented fanaticism.
Dragon slaying?
Sacrificing dragons?
This was a mad idea she had never dared to imagine, yet in this man's mouth, it sounded as casual as "what's for dinner tonight."
"You truly are… crazy and fascinating."
Melisandre licked her lips and unconsciously pressed closer to Victor.
Victor wrapped an arm around her waist, the corner of his mouth curling up.
"Prepare yourself. We're heading back south."
"The Wall is guarded by Jon and the cannons for now — it won't fall anytime soon."
"But our queen (Daenerys) seems to be causing quite a stir in Slaver's Bay."
"It's time to teach the 'Mother of Dragons'…"
"In this world, besides being born a king, there is another thing called — constitutional monarchy."
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