How to Face Fear?

"Run! It's White Ghost One!" The red-haired Wildlings woman's voice echoed in the wild, like a pebble thrown into a lake, or like torn cloth.

She turned to warn her companions who hadn't yet gotten close, and what she saw were horrified, incredulous faces.

The companions, alerted, turned and ran, but after only two steps, they couldn't help but look back.

They witnessed a scene that was enough to make their brains shut down: the reindeer that had been killed earlier had somehow stood up, its heavy body trembling, and snowflakes drifting down, while the armored White Ghost was still on its back, chasing after them.

The reindeer, now standing up again, no longer exhaled white breath from its mouth and nose; its broad chest remained still; and its eyes had turned a terrifying, lifeless blue.

The red-haired Wildlings woman kept running, but the distance between them was rapidly closing.

The White Walkers on the reindeer's back seemed quite pleased with his new mount. What pleased him even more was that he already had prey to hunt right after acquiring his new steed.

The White Walkers's face showed obvious excitement, his withered lips parted, revealing a cold, menacing fang. His gaze was almost entirely drawn to the red hair of the woman before him.

Red, flames, blood, life—such a vibrant color, imbued with life, made him both disgusted and an irresistible target, which couldn't be better.

The female Wildlings who was running ahead had a pounding heart, her heart pumping blood and her eardrums pounding, and the cold air felt like cold water being poured into her stomach.

Suddenly, something even more terrifying happened: she got a stitch.

The icy air caused her stomach to spasm, and her escape almost abruptly slowed.

What should I do? What should I do? I don't want to die!

The Wildlings woman was somewhat desperate. The comfortable life on the Iron Islands had worn away some of the Free Folk's wildness, without them even realizing it.

However, their stable life also brought them ties. No longer needing to struggle for food every day, they had more time to cultivate friendships and family bonds. The Wildlings woman suddenly remembered the Dragonglass weapons the king had given them.

He was also carrying three Dragonglass Arrow! They were originally just for decoration, but now they seemed to come in handy.

Instead of continuing forward, she turned around, drew her bow, and nocked an arrow.

The White Walkers was initially excited about the hunt, was momentarily stunned. Then, the excitement on his face was replaced by a sinister grin, and the blue light in his eyes released a bloodthirsty killing intent.

The strange ice sword in his hand rapidly grew longer, almost as long as a knight's lance, its tip reflecting an icy blue light.

However, the next second, the Wildlings woman released an arrow as fast as a meteor.

The black arrow traced a black path in the pale world.

Puff!

The Dragonglass Arrow pierced the reindeer's body. The White Walkers on the reindeer's back, thinking it wouldn't harm his mount, instead accelerated forward, as if eager to pierce the red target.

Unexpectedly, the reindeer's massive body collapsed with a crash the next second.

The red-haired Wildlings fired the arrow was overjoyed; the flames of revenge had been successfully ignited, and her eyes shone brightly.

But this time it was her turn to be surprised. The White Walkers on the reindeer's back seemed to transform into a gust of wind, moving so fast that it left only a blur. Before the reindeer could fall, it leaped to the side, avoiding being crushed by the reindeer.

Such skill!

The red-haired Wildlings was incredulous; the other person's movements were so fast that she hadn't even seen them clearly.

Although she couldn't see clearly, she had already released another arrow. The White Walkers swung his icy blue sword, deflecting the arrow.

It's important to know that swordsmen capable of deflecting arrows with their swords are extremely rare; not only among Wildlings, but even on the Westeros, there have been very few.

In other words, she only witnessed the true power of the White Walkers today.

Having missed her target, the red-haired Wildlings knew she was no match for her and turned to run away again.

But the White Walkers behind them moved even faster, closing the distance to just one step in the blink of an eye. The White Walkers ' faces changed from excitement to annoyance.

The mount I finally got was ruined just like that.

He thrust his strange, ice-blue longsword forward with a fierce thrust, but the sword pierced through his fiery red hair and missed its mark.

It turned out that the red-haired Wildlings woman had accidentally slipped and fallen.

That slip saved her from a fatal blow.

Their companions watching from afar were terrified. In the culture of Free Folk, red hair symbolized good luck, and it seemed that was indeed the case.

The danger was not over yet. The White Walkers, having missed its target, was not in a hurry. Instead, it stood there, looking down at its prey that had fallen to the ground.

He slowly raised his longsword, aiming it at his prey's heart, ready to stab it in.

However, a different kind of sharpness shone in its blue eyes, and a shrill whistle appeared in my ear.

when--

The White Walkers swung his sword to parry again, but to his surprise, the arrow was more powerful than he had anticipated.

The force was so great that it caused his body to stagger.

He glanced quickly down at the ice-blue longsword and noticed an unsightly nick in it.

The next second, dozens of riders surged out of the woods.

The thunderous hooves of the galloping horses shook off much of the snow clinging to the surrounding branches.

However, something surprising happened: the human knights didn't seem to intend to kill him; one of them actually grabbed a net and pounced on him.

Specially made fishing nets swarmed in from all directions, turning him into a fish caught in a gray haze, unable to move forward or backward.

In an instant, the White Walkers realized he couldn't escape today.

He quickly turned around and ran towards the reindeer that had already been killed twice, pulling the obsidian arrow from its neck.

"Quick! This guy's going to commit suicide!"

Someone in the group shouted this, and the knights increased their speed once again.

But the next second, the White Walkers pulled the Dragonglass Arrow out and pressed it hard against his temple.

With a loud bang, the white flesh on his body exploded into a large pool of shattered ice.

Ice shards burst out from the collar and arms of the armor, leaving only a shell behind.

The leading knight was stunned by the scene. He remembered there were two more Wights, but when he turned around, he saw that the Wights was lying on the ground as if its bones had been removed.

He glanced at the broken ice on the ground and the collapsed Wights, then at the still-shaken red-haired Wildlings woman as she rode back.

"May I have your name?"

"Ygritte."

Did he save me? Did he come specifically to save me?

The red-haired Wildlings spoke cautiously, muttering to herself as she felt her heart pounding, especially with the white snow on the ground making her dizzy.

But to everyone's surprise, the king remained silent for a long time.

"Leaving the unit without permission is a violation of military discipline, do you understand?"

"I understand." Ygritte a chill in her heart and couldn't help but feel a little disappointed.

"We're still outside. You'll be punished when we get back."

After receiving Jon's permission, Ygritte left in a daze.

The situation was somewhat coincidental; Jon had recently located this group of White Walkers through the Skinchanger, but he hadn't expected to run into Ygritte.

If her actions caused the failure to capture the White Walkers, then she should be severely punished. However, it seems that the White Walkers possess a certain level of intelligence, and not all of them are just mindless zombies.

Jon suddenly remembered that when he killed Euron, the man who seemed to be the Night King wanted to make a pact with him, asking him to fight for him and sacrifice his offspring.

Perhaps there are different ranks among the White Walkers. Those White Walkers are transformed from infants may have a higher status and greater combat power.

The Wights, killed and transformed by the White Walkers, possess no intelligence and are merely subordinates.

Furthermore, the Night King specifically requested Targaryen offspring, suggesting that White Walkers from different bloodlines might differ in potential or other aspects.

More than a year ago, Jon had the Night's Watch destroy Craster's Keep.

This demon father fathers children with his daughters; if the child is a daughter, he raises her for his own consumption; if the child is a son, he offers him to the White Walkers.

To prevent this guy from further strengthening the Night King's power, Jon ordered the Night's Watch to kill him. As for his rammed earth house, which was called a fortress but was actually just a large house, it was used as a stronghold for the Night's Watch.

"Your Majesty, it seems that capturing White Walkers or Wights won't be so easy," Sigorn said with some worry beside Jon.

"These monsters are dressed so lightly, they're not afraid of the cold, they're not afraid of death, and they probably don't even need to eat. This, this—" Sandor said worriedly.

The other generals present also looked somewhat terrified. They then remembered Jon's repeated warnings about the horrors of the White Walkers and deeply regretted not having taken them to heart before.

"We have Dragonglass weapons, so there's nothing to fear," Daenys said, but his voice lacked confidence.

Many of them had just witnessed the White Walkers's terrifying fighting power; its Swordsmanship was probably comparable to that of the legendary Sword of the Morning.

The key lies with the White Walkers White Walkers. They possess more than one Sword of the Morning. They are tireless and highly skilled in combat; such enemies are truly terrifying.

Jon sensed the change in everyone's mindset. He had come out to capture the White Walkers to scare the governors of the Free Cities who thought they were safe because of the natural barrier, but he couldn't scare his own people first!

But at this point, he couldn't convince them to resist the White Walkers with just words, especially since the Night King had initially intended to persuade him to surrender.

At that time, I might need to demonstrate my prowess as king in front of these people.

Jon wanted to capture lively Wights and wardrobes, not bring back corpses and a pile of broken ice.

However, since they've only just emerged, they're bound to find "Wights killed by Wights," or "White Walkers who are afraid of death."

Soon after, Jon brought back the shattered ice from the White Walkers' explosion and the remains of the Wights.

When Jon was away, Daenys took command of the army.

"Judging from the Wights ' clothing, they seem to be from Hardhome," Daenys said, looking at the sealskin on the Wights' bodies.

"Hardhome?"

"It's located northeast of Haunted Forest, not far from here."

"Then let's go take a look. Let's set up camp here for now and have Castle Black send some military rations—"

"Your Majesty, it seems that the skin on the backs of those two Wights has been completely peeled off."

"It's peeled off?"

Jon was very surprised and quickly went forward to check, and found that the skin on the backs of these Wights had indeed been cut off by someone.

Not only the skin on her back, but also the skin on her thighs was peeled off.

The limbs, stripped of their skin, revealed the texture of muscles, giving them a sinister and eerie appearance.

Even though corpses don't need skin after being transformed into Wights, why is it necessary to cut it off?

"Could it have been used to make leather shoes?" Adam suddenly asked from the side.

Making leather shoes?

"Yes, if shoes can be worn out, then feet must be worn out too. Although they aren't afraid of the cold, they still need to walk and walk, from the north to the south. Their feet will definitely get worn out. Wouldn't it be better to cut off their skin to make leather shoes so they can walk even further?"

Adam's guess made some sense. They didn't know if the White Walkers who had just committed suicide was wearing shoes, but these two Wights were still wearing their shoes.

The severed skin was not found on them.

Could it be that someone collected them?

Regardless, the group decided to go check out Hardhome first.

Soon, after replenishing their military rations, the group began to march towards Hardhome.

The wind whipped up the snow on the ground, making it look like a herd of white monsters crawling forward.

A group of people dressed in tattered clothes marched forward against the white, swirling wind.

The group consisted of about a hundred people, and strangely, none of them wore hats, letting the cold wind and snow blow on their faces and get into their clothes.

Upon closer inspection, these people's faces were all deathly gray-black, except for their eyes, which emitted a cold, eerie blue light.

Among these people were three dressed in frost-white armor, riding emaciated horses.

Not only was their armor frost-white, but their skin was also a terrifying white.

The three of them were making a sickening sound in their throats, like ice cracking or something rubbing together.

This was a force composed of Wights and White Walkers.

Just as they seemed to be having a heated discussion, a thunderous sound of hooves rang out. The entire column suddenly stopped, and pairs of dark blue eyes scanned the surroundings as a cavalry unit suddenly charged out.

They quickly surrounded the three horsemen in the middle, forming a defensive formation. Each of them took out a simple stone spear or a rusty longsword, and the better ones even had tattered shields.

Suddenly, cavalrymen swept in through the wind and snow, the thunderous sound of their hooves growing louder as they approached, reaching them almost instantly.

The Wights riding White Walkers looked around in panic; the number of cavalrymen was somewhat greater than they had anticipated.

There were at least five hundred people in the area.

But they had no intention of surrendering; their eyes were filled with blue light, and for a moment, a death-defying spirit surged forth.