The Burning Sea

The peninsula where Hardhome is located is like an arm that Westeros stretches out into the Narrow Sea, with white waves rolling like the sleeves of that arm.

Here, rafts are densely packed together, but the most eye-catching feature is the pale white sail made of human skin.

At first glance, it looks like the scales of a dead fish that have exploded.

One of the scales was exceptionally large, resembling a fish fin compared to the other sails, and correspondingly, the raft itself was several times the size of the other rafts.

Not only were there pale, naked human skins, but also some furry animal hides.

Animal hides and human skin were glued together in some way, fluttering in the sea breeze.

On this raft stood a pale white White Walkers.

He was also wearing armor, which faintly revealed a bluish-green hue, just like the color of blood vessels showing through the skin.

These armors protected vital areas, such as the torso, neck, and shoulders.

However, some less important areas were left exposed: elbows, bare feet, and a large section of the calf could be vaguely seen through the skirt armor.

He appeared even taller, standing at a full two meters, with a ring of sharp Sharp Point on his head resembling the spikes of a crown.

Similarly, he also had blue eyes, only these eyes were more expressive.

These eyes weren't looking south, but rather seemed to be trying to see the scenery across the Narrow Sea through the vast, boundless mist.

Standing beside him was a group of White Walkers with similar expressions to him, some with Sharp Point on their heads like him, but unlike him, they did not have the imposing presence of a crown.

Others have long hair, which is loose and gives them an air of mystery.

Among them was a White Walkers whose size could no longer be described as merely robust; it was simply enormous.

Those were White Walkers Giants, each over three meters tall.

On the back of this Giants White Walkers were five nearly translucent Ice spears, all of which were looking eastward in unison with the White Walkers standing in the middle.

Around the raft were heads that were partially visible as the waves crashed against them.

These were clearly Wights, carrying the Wights on their shoulders to keep it steady in the undulating waves.

Along this nearly endless coastline, countless Wights and White Walkers are toiling.

They seemed to be having some kind of silent communication, and their work was carried out in an orderly manner.

The newly arrived Wights obediently lay there waiting for the skin on their backs and thighs to be cut off. Some White Walkers then used their hands to smear the skin back together before attaching the sails to the raft.

You can see that the rafts are all connected with nails made from ground bone, and they also continuously sprinkle water on the rafts, using the frozen ice as an adhesive to make the rafts even stronger.

Looking around, there are at least seven thousand rafts here. Assuming each raft carries five to ten White Walkers, the White Walkers army intends to transport tens of thousands of White Walkers south in one go.

The number of White Walkers and Wights gathered in Hardhome is at least 200,000, and it seems they plan to make several trips back and forth.

Putting aside other factors, such a number is something the North forces alone cannot withstand head-on.

They need to rely on the vast lands and fortresses of the North to contend with them.

Seeing the ever-increasing number of Wights gathering at Hardhome, the Night King's White Walkers on the flagship revealed a satisfied expression.

At that moment, a commotion, or rather a disturbance, arose from the north of Hardhome.

Dozens of rafts are illegally approaching the center of the area.

This is very unusual.

The White Walkers, who appeared to be the Night King, looked at the White Walkers warrior beside him, as if asking what was going on.

The White Walkers were also puzzled by this. After some communication, they discovered that the rioting Wights were neither their own servants nor servants of any White Walkers vassals.

The Night King was greatly alarmed upon receiving this answer, but it was too late.

Suddenly, orange flames appeared in the direction from which the riot was taking place.

The living would feel hope and warmth upon seeing it, but the White Walkers and Wights would feel utter disgust.

As the king of the White Walkers, representing death and cold, he naturally disliked such things even more.

He pointed his finger, and countless Wights swarmed forward.

At this moment, Jaime, Benjen, and others each led a dozen or so Wildfire loaded with Wildfire pots and charged towards the distant raft group.

To ensure the Wildfire could be ignited successfully, at least seven or eight people on a raft carried torches. The raft was moving so fast that the flames on the torches had to be held tightly to the sticks to prevent them from being blown out.

Jaime glanced at the pot of Wildfire behind him, then at the torch in his hand, showing no fear whatsoever in the face of the Wights and White Walkers that almost filled his vision; in fact, he appeared remarkably calm.

"I already know what happened back then."

"What?"

"The reason you killed my grandfather is that he wanted King's Landing to be buried with him."

How did you know?

"That's not important. What I want to tell you is that I reward and punish fairly. The Lannister can continue to exist in Slaver's Bay in the future, and that is my reward for you."

"Thanks."

Jaime recalled his conversation with Jon and felt a profound sense of calm.

This reminded him of the time he killed the Mad King and sat alone on the Iron Throne.

It was as if time had stopped, until Eddard Stark led his troops into the Red Keep, and he realized that time had continued to flow.

Jaime watched as the Wights and wardrobes rushed towards him, attempting to stop and block him. As the distance rapidly closed, he could already see the hideous faces of those monsters.

These Wights monsters, who had no concept of death or were already dead, swam towards them while clinging to the log.

But Jaime simply ordered the soldiers behind him to fire arrows with a cold expression.

The Wights struck by the Dragonglass Arrow immediately lost all their vitality and quickly sank into the sea, while the driftwood they were clinging to soon drifted away to other places.

This was just a minor counterattack by the White Walkers, and then a group of White Walkers wielding spears began to hurl Ice spears at them.

Dozens, even hundreds, of powerful Ice spears were aimed at Jaime and Benjen, who were speeding through the waves.

The spears left milky-white afterimages in mid-air before crashing into the arms of the Night's Watch soldiers and Free Folk.

The person struck by the spear felt as if he had been punched hard.

The lighter soldiers were knocked off the raft by the Ice spears and fell into the frigid sea, where they were swallowed by the white waves.

Heavier soldiers were impaled, like Tormund, who stumbled back several steps, thinking he had lost his footing, only to find his abdomen pierced by a spear made almost entirely of ice.

His body swayed, and he almost collapsed to his knees.

"Free Folk will never kneel!"

Tormund murmured, gripping the sail tightly with his hands.

"I'm going to set the Night King's ass on fire! On fire!"

Tormund roared, his desperate spirit infecting the Night's Watch soldiers around him.

Long live the Night's Watch! Long live King Jon Snow!

Although the White Walkers Walkers' spears were clearly too powerful for them to defeat, it didn't matter; their mission was to set the Wildfire on the White Walkers.

So, in an effort to speed up the raft, some people even put their hands into the icy seawater.

Seeing this, Benjen suddenly remembered something his father had said, and he told it to every child, including Eddard.

People can only be brave when they are afraid.

Long live the Night's Watch! Long live the Seven Kingdoms! Long live King Jon Snow!

Riding the wind and ocean currents, the rafts accelerated further. When their rafts collided with the White Walkers ' rafts, the Night King, in the distance, first saw a dazzling green.

The green light was so dazzling that even he couldn't help but turn his head away, his blue eyes flashing incessantly.

Immediately following was a violent, low explosion. The flames grew increasingly blinding and conspicuous, even expanding rapidly. The shape of the green flames resembled a demon crawling out of hell.

Flames, explosions, and terrifying shockwaves like a tidal wave.

Wherever the terrifying shockwave passed, the sails rocked violently, and the Wights on board were no exception, all falling into the sea.

Most of the White Walkers, however, clung to the rafts, barely managing to keep themselves from falling. This green demon's journey from Hell to the rafts and ships of the Night's Watch and the Free Folk was not the end; he used them as a base to search for anything he could devour.

More rafts, more skeletons.

Wildfire are extremely sticky; once they touch something, there is absolutely no chance of extinguishing it.

Not only the Night's Watch and Free Folk, who were already at the center of the explosion, but also the mangled Wights were excellent fuel.

Although they have almost no fat left on their bodies, their bones can be used as firewood, and if the temperature is high enough, they can even be better fuel than firewood.

As Wights, their vitality is "more resilient," retaining most of their mobility until they are burned to the core by flames or completely reduced to ashes.

However, their bodies were also controlled by the White Walkers leader, and each human torch, once lit, would automatically jump into the cold seawater to avoid contaminating more of the raft.

However, the green devil has become even stronger, especially with the ocean currents beneath its feet still pushing it along.

The Wildfire spread in a very peculiar way, first rapidly growing from the center of the Night's Watch's raft, and then quickly spreading out due to the splitting and sticky nature of the Wildfire.

The scattered doubts were brought together again by the wind and ocean currents, becoming even larger.

The heat waves generated by the flames caused some rafts reinforced and held together with ice to disintegrate on the spot, turning them into sparks that drifted with the current but caught fire.

The fire escalated uncontrollably, quickly becoming unmanageable, while the Night King's blue eyes gleamed with obvious rage in the distance.