Catelyn's Nightmare

Under the cover of night, Winterfell resembled a thick, black shell, its limbs and head tucked in, lying horizontally across the vast plain, as if trying to retain as much warmth as possible in the cold wind.

On a small hill a dozen miles from Winterfell, Euron and Sawane Botley were leading a group of prisoners they had brought from the Stony Shore, binding them one by one to wooden stakes.

They all had burlap sacks over their heads, shivering in the biting cold wind. Although they were still wearing clothes, their shoes had been taken off, and walking barefoot on the ground in this freezing weather was no different from walking on steel needles.

Especially since they had walked all the way from the Stony Shore to Winterfell, their bare feet were already covered with frostbite and cracks, turning blue and purple, a pitiful sight.

Only the legendary Hardfoots of the Beyond the Wall are able to walk barefoot in the icy snow.

Furthermore, a close inspection of their chests reveals numerous traces of dried and congealed blood, and their tongues have also been cut off by Euron.

Sawane Botley counted the number of people; there were nearly thirty in total. However, he soon noticed that one of them looked somewhat familiar. Just as he was about to go forward to identify him, Euron called him back.

"Lord Portley, when I attack Winterfell with magic, you must heed my instructions. The magic will only work if you offer your blood at the right moment." Euron's voice rang out, causing Portley to regain his composure.

"Understood," he said casually, also wanting to see what kind of magic Euron would use. "I hope you're not just bragging," Shavin thought to himself.

He looked around again and found that about half of them were Euron's mute servants. These people were all expressionless, and the only difference between them and the wooden stakes used to bind prisoners was that they could walk.

Euron walked alone to the top of the small hill, removed his blindfold, and looked towards Winterfell with his two pupils, one black and one red, while muttering incantations.

Shavin couldn't understand or make out what Euron was saying, but it sounded somewhat like Valyrian. Occasionally, sailors from the Free Cities would also come to the Iron Islands.

Euron's speech quickened, and he made a gesture as if he were stabbing a dagger into the chest. The mute servants then plunged their daggers into the prisoners' chests.

The servant, whose tongue had been cut out, let out a hoarse scream, but it was quickly dispersed by the cold wind.

Because of the swift cold wind, Savin didn't even smell the blood.

Suddenly, Chavan noticed that the wind around him had increased sharply, and all he could hear was the whistling of the wind; even breathing became difficult.

"Does he really know magic?" The thought popped into Sawane Botley's mind, and the way he looked at Euron changed.

The Seven Kingdoms already know that Casterly Rock has changed hands, and now rumors are circulating that Eddard's bastard son also possesses magic. Sawane Botley is actually somewhat uneasy about the Iron Islands having to contend with someone who can use magic in the future.

But now that it seems he also has someone on his side who can use magical powers, Euron's image in his mind has changed dramatically.

At this point, he could no longer hear Euron chanting the incantation; he could only see Euron roaring at the sky, his arms flailing wildly like tree branches swaying in a gale.

Suddenly, Euron looked at Shavn again, knowing that it was now his turn.

Shavin picked up his short sword and approached the prisoner who looked somewhat familiar. He felt as if this prisoner overlapped with a figure in his mind.

"Offer his blood!!!"

Just as he hesitated, Euron's voice suddenly rang in Shavin's ears. Without further hesitation, Shavin plunged his short sword into the man's chest.

With a soft "pfft," the feeling was no different from when he killed people before.

As the man's blood flowed, the wind suddenly howled, and the snowstorm roared like a vengeful ghost, rushing towards the black castle and quickly engulfing it.

Schaven suddenly realized that the gale around them had stopped, but the snowstorm blowing toward Winterfell was getting stronger and stronger, as if all the snow and wind were concentrated on Winterfell.

Looking at Euron again, he found the other looking down at him, emanating an inexplicable aura that made him want to bow down in worship.

Catelyn had a nightmare in which the Northern Army was trapped at the Twins.

She and Robb wanted to ask Old Walder for passage, but Old Walder turned around and transformed into Tywin!

At Tywin's command, everyone around him transformed into Kingslayer.

Catelyn begged them to spare her son, but Tywin said nothing and had Robb's throat slit.

She also killed Robb's wolf, sewing its head onto Robb's body. Her own throat was cut, but her soul did not dissipate.

Catelyn's spirit returned to Winterfell, only to find her two sons hung and burned to death, and her two daughters raped by rioters.

"Mother, why did you kidnap Tyrion?" Robb head had turned into a wolf's head, complained.

"Kate, why did you kidnap Tyrion?" the headless Eddard demanded.

"Mother, I don't want to go to King's Landing," cried the two daughters, their clothes disheveled and their lower bodies stained with blood.

"No! No-no-!!!"

Catelyn woke up with a start, only to find herself covered in a cold sweat.

I instinctively reached out to touch it, but the other side of the bed was empty.

Although she had accepted the fact that Eddard was no longer alive, Catelyn still felt a tightness in her chest whenever she felt that the other side of the bed was empty.

"Thank goodness for Jon," Catelyn thought. Otherwise, everything that happened in her dream wouldn't be impossible.

She groped to get up, but suddenly shivered; the room was frighteningly cold, and she could even breathe out white mist. Turning her head, she found that the fireplace had gone out.

"Oh no! Children!" With that thought, Catelyn braved the cold and quickly put on her clothes.

Just as she was about to go out to check on Jeyne and her children, Luwin's voice came from outside the door.

"Madam! Madam!"

"Master Luwin." With a creak, Catelyn opened the door, and a gust of wind almost made her stumble. When she came to her senses, she noticed that the old Maester Luwin's beard had become even whiter, and upon closer inspection, she discovered that it was covered in frost.

"Madam, something's wrong with this storm. I Winterfell —from the South— Wolfswood —it's impossible—"

Under the pressure of the storm, Luwin's voice was intermittent, so Catelyn had no choice but to let him go into the room first.

As Luwin entered the room, shivering, he said, "Madam, something's wrong with this storm. I've served Winterfell for thirty years, and blizzards should only move from north to south, but this storm is moving from south to north!"

That's so strange!

"Never mind that for now, I need to go see the children!"

"I've already checked. I've made sure they're dressed and hiding in the hot springs, and Jeyne too."

"That's good, that's good." Catelyn said with relief. No matter what, Master Luwin always made her feel at ease.

"Madam, there's something else. The guards at Winterfell are certainly having a tough time right now. Many will definitely suffer frostbite after tonight. We were already short-handed, and this will only make things worse."

"Then let the kitchen prepare some hot soup," Catelyn said hastily. Because of the cold weather and reduced food production, even in the relatively simple-minded North, news of bandits had been increasing lately.

"I've already told them to get to it," Luwin reassured her. "I'm going to hurry up and prepare some frostbite ointment now. Madam, please take good care of yourself as well."

"Yes, Master Luwin, thank goodness for you," Catelyn said gratefully.

No sooner had she finished speaking than a loud crash echoed through the room. The window had been blown open by the storm. Cold air rushed in, scattering clothes and other items everywhere, including the dressing table.

Catelyn and Luwin helped each other to the hot springs, and also let the Winterfell maids go in to escape the cold; this was the only way they could get through the night.

Looking at the swirling snowflakes overhead, Luwin thought that the Ravenhouse was probably in grave danger. After this terrible storm, they needed to replenish their Raven quickly, otherwise Winterfell would have difficulty even seeking help from the outside world.

The next day arrived quickly, and as he had expected, all the hundreds of Raven in the ravens' shed had frozen to death overnight.

Luwin gently picked one up; the Raven's body was already completely stiff.

Although these Raven were merely tools and consumables, they were all living creatures, and he had raised them with great care and effort. It was impossible not to feel sad when they all died at once.

Raven suffering like this, the people are even less likely to be in good shape. Almost every one of the few remaining guards in Winterfell is frostbitten, and some are so weak they can't even lift their weapons.

Some of those with weaker constitutions even froze to death!

Winterfell's defenses were effectively reduced by more than half.

In order to restore the guards' fighting ability as soon as possible, Luwin and several assistant scholars, as well as the tall and strong Hodor, took a large amount of medicine to treat the guards.

Upon arrival, they discovered that many soldiers' fingers had turned a ghastly white. The usually good-tempered Luwin finally lost his temper and angrily asked why gloves had not been distributed.

Upon further questioning, it turned out that Kajo had forgotten because he was dealing with a brawl among soldiers.

Without a doubt, these pale fingers will soon turn black and die, and the only way to save their lives is to cut them off.

If it were spearmen, it would be fine, but for carefully trained archers, it's practically useless.

Just as Luwin was treating the soldiers' wounds in the barracks, bad news suddenly arrived—an army that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere had suddenly appeared a few miles from Winterfell, and would be at the city walls in no more than a quarter of an hour.

The soldiers in the barracks, ravaged by wind, snow, and cold, were no match for that army.

Winterfell can no longer be defended. The most important thing now is to get Catelyn and the others to run north and find Robb's army.