The Mountain of Ice and Fire

The wind, swirling like a dragon, whipped along the ground, carrying with it wildfire, snow, the ashes of wights, the remains of burning warhorses, and more wights…

The gale led the way, followed by the wights, countless green wildfires flickering in the tumultuous wind, their eerie glow appearing and disappearing in the dark, swirling clouds…

On the city walls, the Grand Maester ceased his chanting…

The pyromancers also stopped their incantations…

Wildfire, along with the scattered limbs from the ice plains, burning horse carcasses, and wights, were swept into the hurricane, hurtling towards the soldiers below the walls…

Thousands of points of green wildfire, like the eyes of demons from hell, shone within the black clouds…

Eddard Stark, Jon Snow, Lady Dorea Sand, Anguy Clegane, Robb Stark… tens of thousands of soldiers, all paled in the face of what was happening…

The horror of wildfire was known to every soldier!

This wildfire, originally intended to halt the army of wights, was now being driven by the Night King's gale, attacking the soldiers both on and below the city walls…

Following close behind this wind was the endless, dark mass of the wight army…

The wight army, numbering in the hundreds of thousands, had been scorched twice by the Mountain riding a dragon, and then ravaged again beneath Winterfell by fire horses and wildfire; now, only about two hundred thousand remained… Even with just over two hundred thousand wights, they still outnumbered the city's ten thousand soldiers by more than two to one…

*

Watching the green wildfire blanket the sky, the hundreds of monks from the Great Sept of Baelor at the city gates were all shocked and dismayed.

The monks excelled at healing, praying, comforting the wounded, and soothing the spirits of the dead, but they were helpless against the dense, scattered wildfire.

On the city walls, the Grand Maester resumed his chanting, but his voice was distorted by the wind, broken and intermittent.

Hundreds of pyromancers chanted loudly together, their spells cast, and the green fire that had been tumbling and flickering in the hurricane was extinguished with a whoosh.

"Hold the line!" Commander Jaime Lannister of the vanguard shouted wildly. He turned sideways to face the wind, preventing dust, sand, and snow from filling his mouth and nose.

"Hold the line!" the centurions roared, turning their heads to the side.

The soldiers all turned their heads, avoiding the full force of the wind.

Boom!

Something heavy crashed into the vanguard—the body of a dead horse, the charred flesh emitting a burnt stench. The dead horse was blown apart by the wildfire substance on its back, but the substance hadn't been completely consumed; the Grand Maester and the hundreds of pyromancers had perfectly controlled the burning and extinguishing of the wildfire.

More wights and the remains of warhorses fell from the wind, causing serious chaos in the ranks of the three thousand-strong vanguard.

"Hold the line, brothers, hold the line!" Jaime shouted, angling himself against the wind and raising his sword.

If the vanguard were to collapse and retreat, it would affect the morale of the tens of thousands of soldiers behind them.

Melisandre moved her legs slightly, and the Red Smoke Beast came to Jaime's side. Melisandre reached out and grasped Jaime's longsword, her snow-white hand on the sharp blade, the edge cutting into her palm. Blood flowed out, staining the blade of the sword red.

Melisandre began to chant loudly, and the wind noticeably weakened with her chanting. Then, with a loud bang, Jaime's longsword burst into flames, becoming a bright fire sword, illuminating the area in front of and behind him.

Bang!

On the flank of the vanguard, another man's longsword burst into bright red flames. It was Thoros of Myr, the red priest most skilled at using a fire sword.

Thoros was from Myr, a priest of the Red God. He had been ordered to come to Westeros to spread the faith of the Red God, and to persuade King Robert in the Red Keep to believe in the Red God. However, he liked to eat meat, drink alcohol, and fight, and he and Robert soon became good friends.

In the end, Thoros failed to make Robert believe in the Red God, but he himself became a military commander under King Robert, and after Robert's death, he became involved in the political struggles of the royal family, living as an exile in the Riverlands with Lord Beric Dondarrion of Blackhaven, and founding the Brotherhood Without Banners.

The brothers of the Brotherhood Without Banners were all believers in the Red God. Lord Beric Dondarrion, the Earl of Blackhaven, also became the leader of the Brotherhood Without Banners, known as the Lightning Lord. Thoros became the Red God priest of the Brotherhood Without Banners.

Jaime's sword and Thoros's sword burst into bright red flames almost simultaneously, illuminating the area in front of and behind them. The two bright fire swords became the focus of all the soldiers on the field. They also became the focus of the thirty White Walkers and the Night King behind the wights.

In the time it took for the next heartbeat, the sound of bangs continued, and all three thousand longswords of the vanguard led by Jaime burst into bright flames…

The light of the flames dispelled the black mist and seemed to restrain the gale, and the wind force visibly weakened again…

On the flanks, the longswords of Thoros and Lightning Lord Beric Dondarrion and the Brotherhood Without Banners also burst into bright red flames one by one…

The wind force weakened, the warhorses no longer avoided the wind, the soldiers no longer leaned to the side, and the flames on the fire swords roared, emitting an oppressive heat.

The best weapon against wights was fire. And fire combined with the sharpness of a sword was an absolute bane.

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!

The whistling of the wind gradually disappeared, and the black clouds gradually surrounded the city. It wasn't even dusk yet, but the night had arrived early…

On the city walls, torches stuck in triangular iron frames were lit. The flames of these torches were flickering in the wind, and sometimes gusts of cold wind would swirl and whip around, but they never managed to extinguish the fire…

The spells of hundreds of pyromancers had been added, giving the fire of the torches and the fire on the fire swords their own vitality. The Night King's cold wind could not extinguish these flames.

Melisandre drove the Red Smoke Beast back to the city gates and stopped to watch from afar. The first black wave surged forward, entered the circle of light illuminated by the fire swords, and violently collided with the vanguard led by Jaime. The sounds of swords clashing and bodies colliding rang out densely, and the shouts of the warriors exploded like thunder, shaking the earth. The cold wind almost stopped, but the black darkness poured down from the sky like ink, and more than three thousand fire swords drew countless bright circles of fire, fiercely hacking at the wights…

Jaime waved his fire sword and charged into the wights, and Thoros and Beric Dondarrion, providing support, also crashed into the wight crowd one after another… The longswords slashed horizontally and vertically, the flames roared, and those in their path were invincible, and the White Walkers dodged one after another…

The White Walkers would not dodge or retreat against any other weapons, but against fire, they would dodge and retreat, as if it were an instinct…

The wights' weapons, combat power, and fighting skills were no match for the vanguard's warriors, nor were they a match for the Brotherhood Without Banners, but the wights did not feel pain, had no fear, and, more importantly, the wights were endless. One fell, and two more came; two were cut down, and four or eight emerged, and behind the black mist, there were even more wights…

*

On the city walls, Robb Stark watched as the light of the fire swords in the black mist grew dimmer and dimmer. He raised his hand, and on the city walls, the war drums rolled and the horns blew…

In the center army, Eddard Stark raised his longsword and lit a torch. Beside him, Maege Mormont and Dacey Mormont, mother and daughter, held short-handled axes in their right hands and torches in their left. The northern soldiers raised five thousand longswords and five thousand torches—

On the left flank, the Clegane army raised five thousand longswords and five thousand torches—

On the right flank, the Vale soldiers raised five thousand longswords and five thousand torches—

The early-arriving darkness was completely dispelled by fifteen thousand torches, and the sky below Winterfell became a bright red…

On the city walls, Robb watched helplessly as the firelight from the vanguard's fire swords grew less and less. His expression was calm, and he waved his raised hand down. On the city walls, the horns blew in a low and solemn wail, signaling the vanguard to retreat completely…

In the time it took for the next heartbeat, almost all the light from the fire swords was extinguished, and as the second horn sounded with a呜呜呜呜呜呜, the first line of the battlefield was plunged into darkness, with no more light from the fire swords…

It was as if—heaven and earth had stopped operating at that moment, and time seemed to have frozen and stopped flowing—after several heartbeats, more than a dozen warriors emerged from the darkness. They appeared in the light of the torches, dragging their longswords, their steps faltering. Every warrior who retreated was injured…

The second echelon of the army stood motionless, and the wounded vanguard warriors ran into the second line, passing through the gaps between their comrades and retreating towards the city gates… They skirted the caltrops and entered a narrow road lined on both sides with dense caltrops. At the end of this road was the wide-open city gate… There, hundreds of Septon monks with healing hands and Dorea Sand, a blood witch with unique skills in stopping bleeding and healing wounds, waited…

A man staggered out of the darkness, dragging his longsword. He was covered in bloodstains and wore an eyepatch over his left eye—it was Beric Dondarrion, the leader of the Brotherhood Without Banners…

Soon, another man staggered out of the darkness ahead. His left arm had been cut off, and his right hand dragged a longsword with a rolled blade—Jaime Lannister, commander of the vanguard… Eddard Stark immediately jumped off his warhorse and gave the order. Two Northern guards led Eddard's warhorse forward at full speed to meet Jaime. The guards worked together to put Jaime on horseback, and Jaime lay prostrate on the saddle. The longsword fell from his hand, and the warhorse did not need to be ordered. Hooves clattered as it galloped towards the city gates…

Less than twenty of the vanguard of the Winterfell Allied Forces and the Brotherhood Without Banners survived. All the other brothers were killed in battle.

Among the vanguard commanders, only Jaime survived with a severed left arm; among the Brotherhood Without Banners, only Lightning Lord Beric Dondarrion survived… Red Priest Thoros stayed behind to cover Beric's retreat and died in battle…

*

Beneath Winterfell, the black tide of wights surged forward, like a black tide line drawn by the sea…

"Prepare!" Robb Stark shouted loudly from the city walls.

"Prepare!"

"Prepare!"

"Prepare!"

The shouts of the messengers echoed along the long city walls, one after another. Soon, all the archers on the city walls received the order.

Thousands of bows ignited the oil-soaked cloths on the arrowheads, the longbows were fully drawn, the arrows were straight, and the arrowheads pointed to the sky.

"Loose!" Robb Stark roared!

"Loose!"

"Loose!"

"Loose!"

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!

Countless dense rockets shot from the city walls into the sky, drawing tens of thousands of flaming tails, like countless stars drawing the tails of shooting stars.

The black sky was lit up, and thousands of rockets drew arcs, the black iron arrowheads tearing through the air, making whistling sounds, and plunging into the wight ranks with a噗噗噗. One wight after another flipped over and fell to the ground, and the flames on the rockets quickly ignited the wights. Soon, in front of the well-prepared Allied Forces, large swathes of wights fell and piles of flames burned…

The offensive line of the black tide was torn apart, and its advance was curbed, but still, some wights crossed the rain of arrows and quickly charged into the ranks of the spearmen and sword-and-shield soldiers. In the close combat, several small wight teams were quickly wiped out, and torches ignited the wights' bodies…

Torches and longswords were the bane of the wights. As long as a torch swept over a wight, the wight could only be burned to ashes, and the Night King could no longer resurrect it…

*

On the city walls, Robb commanded four rows of archers. The first row of archers shot their arrows and retreated to the last row, and the second row of archers stepped forward, shot their arrows, and retreated, and then the third row stepped forward, and so on. The dense arrows made a terrifying whistling sound, weaving a net of fire in the low air, dense and continuous.

In the Clegane army, the Northern army, the Vale, and the Southern Allied Forces, all the horse archers lost their warhorses and quickly retreated; they would climb the city walls and join the ranks of the foot archers and longbowmen…

The rolling advance of the wight army was firmly curbed by the continuous rain of arrows. The indiscriminate, carpet-style rocket fire meant that thousands of wights were shot and fell to the ground with each volley, quickly ignited by the flames on the rockets… But more wights crossed the range of the arrows and crashed into the squares of spearmen, sword-and-shield soldiers, and dismounted cavalry who were waiting in formation. Close combat began to lengthen the Allied Forces' line and spread rapidly…

Melisandre rode the Red Smoke Beast and stood at the city gates. The Red Smoke Beast was very tall, a head taller than the most divine warhorses. Melisandre stood upright, two balls of fire burning and jumping in her eyes. In her eyes, she saw the number of wights decreasing sharply, but the soldiers of the defending Allied Forces were also dying in increasing numbers. Once the comrades around them did not have time to burn the corpses, the corpses would soon become warriors of the Night King…

The Night King's wight army had suffered heavy losses, and his forces were decreasing sharply, but he was behind the wight army, issuing the order to charge… Once he sacked the city, all the troops he had lost would return…

Squeak, squeak!

Two ice spiders also appeared on the flanks of the black line of wights, one on the left and one on the right, bypassing the Allied Forces' squares beneath the city walls and quickly heading towards the city walls…

Ice spiders climbed over the city walls even more agilely and quickly than on flat ground…

Thanks to [Weak Crown Tied Captive] and [Not Also Not] for their reward support, thank you, handshake!