You could have heard a pin drop in the tent.
Only the crackle of burning wood in the brazier remained, along with Tormund's pained gasps as he lay on the ground.
Every Wildling, including the "king" who had remained seated all this time, stared at Lynn as though he were a monster.
They had imagined all sorts of possibilities.
They had imagined Lynn refusing, being forced by Tormund to fight anyway, and then being beaten to death by Tormund's fists.
But none of them had imagined the scene before them.
One punch.
Just one punch.
Tormund, who was like a god of war in their eyes, had been sent flying by this southerner like a discarded sack.
That simply wasn't strength a human should possess!
Jon Snow's palm was slick with cold sweat around his sword hilt. As he stared at Lynn's back, his throat bobbed involuntarily.
Ygritte's gray eyes, meanwhile, were already filled with a light that mingled shock, fervor, and obsession.
Every time, Lynn shattered everything she thought she knew. Every time, he brought a surprise that made her very soul tremble.
"Kill him!"
A hoarse roar broke the suffocating silence.
It came from the impostor seated at the head of the tent, the man they had all treated as their "king"-the Bone King.
The armor he wore, fashioned from countless bones strung together, rattled.
He sprang to his feet and drew a battle-axe from his waist, its head carved from the leg bone of some unknown great beast.
"All of you, attack together! Kill him!"
His roar was an order, instantly igniting the savagery of the other Wildlings Chieftains in the tent.
They were Free Folk, the most defiant warriors Beyond the Wall.
Fear would only drive them into a greater frenzy!
"Raaagh!"
The bald Thenn nearest