The north wind howled, sweeping up thick snowflakes that slipped beneath cloaks and slithered through gaps in armor, snaking into necklines, armpits, and crotches. It was like a greedy venomous serpent, draining away every bit of warmth and strength.
The sky hung low and dim, like a filthy quilt smothering the Wall. Perhaps if the Night's Watchman holding the horn reached out, he could touch the heavens?
Dany claimed she hadn't eaten breakfast, but she knew well—it wasn't morning anymore. It was close to afternoon, and even lunchtime had passed.
The King's Tower stood thirty meters tall, built beside the two-hundred-meter-high Wall. At its top, a wooden bridge extended directly to a zigzagging wooden stairway.
Just as Dany and her three companions ascended the stairs, they encountered blacksmith Donal leading seventeen or eighteen men in black robes, jogging toward them. They were busy fastening sword belts and stuffing slices of dry, hard black bread with cheese into their mouths.
"Your Grace, we don't have time to give you a proper welcome!" Donal shouted to Dany.
"Then let's save our strength to give the King Beyond the Wall a proper welcome!" Dany replied with a smile.
Atop the Wall, the Night's Watch had propped up a line of iron cauldrons with poles taller than a man, blazing with roaring fires. The fierce wind made the flames flicker wildly.
Someone handed her a pouch of warm braised beef and a chunk of black bread the size of half a head. Dany refused. The cold here was bone-deep; open your mouth and clouds of white vapor burst out. The food froze before it could be properly chewed—who could have the appetite to eat?
The parapets on both sides of the walkway were made from solid grey-white ice. Dany couldn't be sure if giant stones were encased within, but it gave her the illusion of standing inside a freezer.
Actually, most freezers don't go below minus 18 degrees Celsius. Here, it was probably lower than minus 20.
The Wall was wide enough to allow twelve fully armored knights to ride abreast, but the icy surface was dangerously slippery. To prevent accidents, the brothers in black had laid a narrow gravel path down the middle.
No, they didn't pave the entire width—just a single path for patrolling guards to walk on.
Alongside the gravel trail, bundles of arrows, crossbow bolts, spears, and ballista bolts had been laid out, spread across the walkway for easy access.
Besides the arrows, there were also basin-sized chunks of grey-white stone, stacked three meters high and stretching along dozens of meters of the Wall. Above the gatehouse were barrels of pitch and wildfire.
What surprised Dany was the row of straw dummies dressed in black cloaks, standing between the battlements, each holding a spear. Under the dim sky, they were enough to fool wildlings from hundreds of meters away.
Was this like "borrowing arrows with straw boats"?
North of the Wall lay a vast, pitch-black forest, as boundless as the sea. Tiny red specks flickered and slowly moved through the trees.
The Night's Watch routinely cleared all trees within 800 meters of the Wall. As a result, between the pale-grey Wall and the black forest stretched a wide, pristine snowfield—like a white silk scarf unfurled on the ground.
Now, specks of torchlight emerged from the forest, leaving a faint trail across the snow.
A two-kilometer-long assault line—the wildlings were throwing nearly all their forces into battle.
"Woo-woo-woo—woo-woo-woo—" That Night's Watchman named Red Aelyn sounded the horn again. Two quick blasts—wildlings were about to attack.
"Woo-woo-woo—"
"Woo-woo-woo—"
"Woo-woo-woo—"
This time, the wildlings responded—not just one, but more than ten horns blared at once across the open snowfield. Dany couldn't even count them—the sounds were so chaotic, mixed with shrill whistles and deep drums.
Yet somehow, from that disordered din, Dany picked up on an overwhelming emotion. She understood what the wildlings were saying: We're coming. We will tear down your Wall, plunder your lands, and take your daughters and wives!
"The wildlings are so arrogant!" Jon shouted.
"You heard it too?" Dany looked at her "nephew" in surprise.
"Catapults! Ready the fire oil barrels—light them up!" Donal shouted, waving his single arm toward the six Night's Watchmen beside two massive catapults.
The pitch barrels were quickly loaded into the siege engines. Cloth stuffed in the barrel mouths was ignited by torches. Wind fed the fire—flames surged wildly.
"Release!" Ser Noey bellowed.
With a thud, the counterweight arm dropped, and the throwing arm smashed against the wooden beam. The burning barrel soared into the gloomy sky, trailing dancing flames and thick smoke.
Boom! The barrel crashed into the snow, exploding into a fiery lotus bloom. It didn't kill a single wildling, but it sent those nearby scrambling in panic.
"Seven hells! That's a mammoth! And—is that a giant riding it?" Dany's expression twisted oddly. She sounded disappointed. "So small."
"Small?" Jon shook his head, pointing at the long line of mammoths with a hint of awe. "The shortest is three meters tall. The tallest is nearly four and a half. A regular man in front of them would look like a child facing an adult."
Dany scoffed and shook her head. "Four and a half meters is tall? If they're not at least eight or ten meters, how can they fight dragons? You think they can beat my two dragons? They're still young—just shy of two years old!"
ROOOOOAAAAARRRR—
Dany was instantly silenced. A giant stood up on the back of a mammoth, raising a tree trunk like a club, and bellowed furiously at the defenders atop the gate. The roar thundered like something from the dawn of time. Snow atop the Wall trembled, and even Dany felt her soul shake—as if she'd been struck by a true "Dragon Roar."
"So strong…" Dany's smile faded. She grew serious. "Looks like I was being arrogant. Just because they're twice the height of a human doesn't mean their strength is only double. I bet even ten men couldn't win a tug-of-war against a giant."
"Continue!" Noey called out. The catapults were reloaded, and two more barrels of burning pitch hissed through the air, arcing toward the enemy lines.
Ugh—awkward. Not a single wildling got hit again.
The barrels flew in a high arc, and it took too long. The wildlings may be reckless, but they weren't blind. They could clearly see the flaming barrels coming.
"Stop throwing. You're not hitting anyone. It's a waste," Dany shouted at the one-armed man.
"We can't stop attacking. I have to keep morale up," the one-armed blacksmith said in a low voice, pointing at the trembling Night's Watchmen behind the battlements.
"What are they scared of?" Dany raised her voice deliberately so everyone could hear. She wasn't going to go along with his quiet tone.
"It's just twenty or thirty thousand wildling soldiers, with maybe over a hundred thousand in the tribes. I've seen worse."
Donal froze for a moment, then sighed. "We only have a little over twenty fighters left. After last night's battle, most of the villagers from Mole's Town have left."
"You're wrong—you still have two dragons."
"Then send your dragons to burn them!" a woman's voice called from behind a straw dummy.
Dany had seen her when climbing the Wall—a prostitute from Mole's Town named Ze.
She held a long-arm crossbow and wore no sign of cowardice. She stood boldly, like a warrior.
"I'm waiting for someone," Dany smiled at her. "You're brave—braver than the men of Mole's Town."
Ze blushed and awkwardly asked, "Your Grace… who are you waiting for?"
"Mance Rayder?!" Jon blurted out.
The blacksmith, Donal, looked suddenly enlightened and nodded, saying, "Yes, if we're going to burn something, burn the King of the Wildlings. Bringing out the dragons too early will only make Mance Rayder hide."
"Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!" As they spoke, sharp whistling sounds suddenly came from outside the city wall.
Several scarecrows placed between the battlements seemed to have grenades stuffed into their heads—they exploded violently, straw scattering everywhere. Dany immediately crouched down and shouted, "Watch out for giant arrows—seven hells! They flew over 200 meters high and still hit with this much force!"
"Aaaahhhhh—"
But her warning came a bit too late—or rather, the giant archers were primarily focusing their fire near the catapults. One Night's Watch brother was pierced through the abdomen by a two-meter-long, thumb-thick wooden shaft. It looked as if the man was just a feather stuck on the arrow, offering no resistance at all, flying skyward like he weighed nothing.
"F*ck!"
Dany stared, dumbfounded, as the arrow carried the screaming man another hundred meters into the air—he wasn't even dead yet. His scream was louder than a war horn, and the entire Black Castle was drowned in the terror of his death wail.
Selador, the Black Castle's monk, stared in horror at the unfortunate soul soaring into the distance. Gulping wine down his throat, he trembled as he sang the Song of the Holy Mother:"Oh gentle Holy Mother, source of mercy, bless your son through this brutal war, stop the flying arrows, block the blades, let them see a better tomorrow..."
The one-armed blacksmith didn't pay any attention to the fading scream. He quickly leaned out from behind the battlements, glanced down, and cried out in shock and fury, "Damn it! The Wildlings are charging the gate!"
A hundred or so giants had stopped 500 meters outside the gate, unleashing a barrage of arrows in a three-phase shooting formation aimed at the battlements above, suppressing the Night's Watch so badly they couldn't lift their heads.
Another dozen especially massive giants were riding mammoths, leading thousands of wildlings. They stormed past the archers and surged toward the gate.
Ser Barristan lit a tar barrel in the passageway, then raised the still-burning end and hurled it off the battlements with all his strength.
"Boom!" A giant javelin-like arrow shot down and struck a wooden barrel just ten meters below, blowing it apart. Flames rained down like drops of fire.
Any wildling below, dressed in furs with tangled hair, who got touched by the flaming tar, instantly screamed, dropped their weapons, and rolled wildly in the snow.
Even a mammoth had the long fur on its neck catch fire. It trumpeted in panic, scattering the wildlings. Countless were trampled or crushed to death.
"Nice!"
The one-armed blacksmith began urging the Night's Watch to follow Ser Barristan's lead. Two men lifted a barrel, lit it, and threw it out. Others simply picked up basin-sized stones and hurled them down.
"With the Wall here, as long as the Night's Watch doesn't make any major mistakes, no number of wildlings can break through," Dany murmured.
"Dong—dong—dong—" Suddenly, loud pounding sounds echoed from below—it sounded like shields being struck, but amplified a hundred times in force and volume.
"Damn it, the mammoths are battering the gate," Donal cursed loudly.
On the back of one mammoth, a giant was holding an enormous oak shield—wide as two double beds placed side by side, and thick enough to withstand two or three massive boulders already. Even though it was engulfed in flames, the shield hadn't cracked.
"Woooooo—" The mammoth let out a train-like trumpet and slammed into the gate again.
"Crack!"
The sharp snap of splintering oak chilled everyone on the wall, because it wasn't the giant's shield that broke—the gate, also made of thick oak, now had a gaping hole.
"The gate's breached!" Dr. Perestan, who'd been huddled in a corner warming himself by the fire, shrieked like a woman.
"..." Dany was speechless. No doubt about it—she'd been slapped in the face again. This was a fantasy world, and there were creatures known as magical beasts!
Just like dragons, direwolves, and shadowcats, giants and mammoths were top-tier legendary beasts. She shouldn't have used scientific thinking to judge the strength of these magical creatures.
Blacksmith Donal froze for a moment, then gritted his teeth and said to Ser Barristan, "Ser, you take command of the wall. I'll lead a squad to the gate tunnel and cut those bastards down."
Before the White Knight could respond, Dany loudly stopped him: "Don't be rash. There are still two dragons down below. If they torch the tunnel from inside, it'll be worse than being crushed by rocks. The giants won't get through."
"Uh…" The one-armed blacksmith paused, then nodded. "Alright, that's a good idea—burn them to death."
"Wait, I remember the tunnel entrance is covered in thick ice. Won't it collapse if we cook it?" Jon Snow asked.
(End of Chapter)
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