As the Night's King and his powerful retinue approached, Aermir surveyed the battlefield, his gaze meeting the Night's King's icy stare. Aermir felt the surging magic from his defensive buff and focused on summoning Wildfire Spirit and a medium-sized fire elemental. The Wildfire Spirit displayed a fiery passion, its dancing flames coalescing into a wolf. The medium-sized fire elemental followed closely behind, its flames forming a blurry human figure.
Seeing this, the Night's King sneered and launched an attack with ice shards. Sith dodged the attack with predatory grace. Aermir turned to his familiars and gave orders...
" Wannian, Jilim, hide and ambush them with Im. Artio and Berus, you two lead the charge. Sith, come back to help the others after I and the Night's King begin our conflict. Po, Erebus, and Skadi will carry out hit-and-run attacks."
Artio gripped the ground with her claws; her eyes were fixed on the approaching threat, while Berus roared like thunder. The Night's King was unfazed by the gathering of his magical allies; he raised his icy hand, and the Others, restored from Aermir's earth spell, advanced in an unnatural coordination.
Unlike Others, who are mindless undead, the White Walkers are a magical species. If Aermir had to give them a name, they would be ice elves. They are clad in ice armor, shimmering with an otherworldly light; they possess an aura of arcane malice.
Their eyes shimmered with an ethereal blue, devoid of warmth or humanity, their faces hidden behind crystal masks. These Ghost figures moved with an elegant, chilling grace; their very presence was terrifying. They wielded weapons made of ice, capable of freezing the life essence of the living with a single touch, turning them into sorcerers.
Their skin was abnormally pale, with an icy hue. Because their skin was almost translucent, the muscles beneath were almost visible. As the two sides clashed, Artio swept her powerful claws at one of the Others, attempting to shatter Others body, but only managed to destroy his mask. The white zombie was enraged because his mask was destroyed, revealing translucent skin beneath, kissed by ethereal frost, forming features that were both delicate and unsettling.
Their faces were sharply defined, angular, and almost imposing, a stark contrast to the pale and unsettling atmosphere around them. The white zombies attacked Artio with ice spears, but were blocked by her magical shield, emitting a piercing sound that made everyone scratch their heads in frustration.
As he charged toward the Night's King, Aermir raised his hands. Flames erupted from his palms, streaking through the air as scorching projectiles aimed at the Others.
At the same time, Skadi unleashed ice shard magic, crystalline projectiles slicing through the frigid air; a white zombie raised an ice shield to block the attack, then hurled an ice spear at Skadi. She suddenly dodged the attack; Wave swooped down and bombarded a white zombie. The powerful wind pressure forced the white zombie to the ground, but apart from falling and a few streaks of icy blue blood trickling from its nose, no other damage could be seen on this cold life form.
The spell that could sink the Ironborn's longships and crush the strongest knights into mincemeat could only make the Others. The Others wiped his nose and let out a sharp roar. He nonchalantly charged back to the battlefield.
Artio charged deep into the enemy ranks with overwhelming force, her massive claws sweeping across the approaching foe. She was struck by many cold weapons, but a powerful shield around her body prevented them from harming her. The same was true for the Others. Their ice armor and shields were strong enough to protect them from fangs and claws.
Im vanished into the earth and reappeared at the feet of a group of Others, mercilessly beating their fangs and claws. He attacked their unarmored parts, but his venom was insufficient to kill them. The venom merely dulled them slightly, and that was all.
Wannian leaped from one shadow to another, ambushing the Others while they were busy dealing with each other. His sharp fangs left only small wounds on them. Jilim was doing the same thing, while simultaneously burrowing underground. As small skirmishes unfolded, Aermir commanded the Wildfire Spirit and medium-sized fire elementals to focus their attacks on the Night's King.
As he charged through the horde of Others, he swung his halberd downwards, and as the Valyrian steel clashed with the shields and armor of the Others, visibly dented them. The weapon was effective; when it struck areas not inhabited by the Ice Legion, they shattered like glass. He was amazed by the power of the Valyrian steel. Wildfire Spirit leaped and spun across Others, burning them to ashes as they hurtled toward the Night's King.
At the same time, the medium-sized fire elemental unleashed a powerful heatwave, killing the first Others with Fireball. It took nearly ten Fireball to kill one of them, and as the fire elemental released more flames, its size shrank.
The Night's King retaliated with his magic, extinguishing the flames with a single gesture. Though temporarily thrown into disarray, the Others began to regroup and continue their relentless advance.
The Night's King sat astride his undead steed, and with a mere wave of his hand, all the fires around him went out, except for two elemental spirits. The Sith and Aermir could not approach the Night's King, and as the battle intensified, Aermir and his familiars found themselves gradually overwhelmed by the sheer number and supernatural power of the Night's King and his minions. Undeterred by their injuries, the Others pressed forward with extraordinary determination.
Aermir unleashed Rain of Fire upon them, killing several, but he knew they were nearing defeat; the Night's King wasn't truly fighting, he merely watched from the sidelines, offering some support with his ice magic. He didn't take them seriously. Aermir could clearly see the disdain on his face. Aermir knew that expression; he had worn the same one when fighting the Ironborn and the Valemen. It was the look of utter contempt for the weak who attempted to confront an unstoppable force. Aermir's magic was dwindling with each successive attack, flickering like a dying ember.
Amidst the flames of war, Aermir and his family gaze at each other, a silent understanding passing between them. Victory seemed insurmountable, the Night's King's icy claws appearing unstoppable. Yet, with a final burst of collective strength, they continued to resist, undaunted even in the face of impending defeat.
He had one last thing left: the Night's King was looking down at him, which allowed him to catch him off guard. Aermir swooped down, catching the Night's King completely off guard. A flicker of surprise crossed the Night's King's cold face. Aermir seized the opportunity, concentrating almost all his magic power on his halberd, and then said...
'Valon Ābra: perzys egros (Magic: Blade of Flame )'
Aermir's halberd erupted with crimson flames; Metamagic elevates low-level spells to the highest level a caster can wield. Thus, his level two Blade of Flame spell became a level six fire spell. He then cast...
Transformation
He pushed his strength to the limit, unleashing the most powerful attack he had ever seen. The Night's King wrapped his arm in an even thicker layer of ice for defense. When the Flame Spear and his arm touched, an incredible explosion of fire engulfed both of them.