The Night King had no flesh, but at this moment, he was truly experiencing what it meant to feel "pain in the flesh."
The armored Corpse Giant had lost contact with him just a few seconds after entering the human fortress. The time was so short that he hadn't even been able to observe the internal structure of the fortress through its eyes. From the fragmented information transmitted through the magical link in the final instant, he had sensed an incredibly powerful fire-based magic, thousands of times stronger than frozen fire, piercing through the giant's chest and instantly dispelling all the cold magic he had imbued to control it.
The Night King could probably guess that it was some kind of magical weapon, but what puzzled him was how such a remote fortress on the westernmost edge of the Wall could possess such a divine item that countered his power.
There were more than a dozen Corpse Giants and Corpse Mammoths in his army, but these massive creatures could only achieve an element of surprise when used unexpectedly. Now that he knew the enemy had countermeasures, sending them into battle as expendables would be like feeding fuel to the fire, something even he was unwilling to do.
Of course, this "reluctance" came only from the rarity of the Woolly Mammoths and Giants, and not from personal attachment. As the cold god's foremost servant, the Night King's perception of losses in battle was entirely different from that of humans. In his eyes, there was no concept of "brotherhood" or "lives lost." All wights, including the Cold God Priests and even himself, were nothing more than expendables meant to fulfill the greater goal.
As long as he could destroy the Wall's function of shielding against the cold god's power and allow a vast surge of cold magic to pour into the South, there would be countless living humans waiting to be slaughtered and turned into new puppets. He was the general least concerned about sources of troops, the commander least troubled by casualties.
However, not being worried about sources of troops was something for after the Wall's magic was destroyed. For now, he still couldn't allow his wights to be wasted meaninglessly.
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As the being that needed to break through it, no one understood the might and invincibility of the Wall better than the Night King.
The physical height and sheer sturdiness of the Wall needed no elaboration, but what deserved even greater amazement were the at least three types of magic interwoven into its foundation.
The first was "Isolation Magic," evenly distributed along the entire length with near-constant intensity. The invisible barrier it formed isolated the cold god's power, blocking it Beyond the Wall and making it impossible for humanity's natural enemies to enter the lands South of the Wall in small groups to kill and destroy at will. Cold God Priests could not awaken the dead south of the Wall into wights, and those brought south could not transmit information back to the Cold God Priests beyond the Wall. The wights previously captured by the Night's Watch and taken to the North and King's Landing were not sensed or controlled by the White Walkers precisely because of this magical barrier.
The second type was the magic that maintained the structure's durability and stability. The aboveground part of the Wall was made of ice, and this was not because "Bran the Builder thought it looked cool," but because ice was the only naturally occurring substance that simultaneously met three conditions: large in quantity and easy to obtain, immune to cold magic, and lightweight yet strong.
While it had many advantages, it had one fatal flaw—it melted in summer.
The insulation magic woven into it existed to solve that issue. In the heat, the Night's Watch would indeed see the Wall's surface melting, flowing, or even crumbling slightly, but those losses were merely the frost, rain, and snow condensed on its surface, like a skin. The real Wall could maintain its internal temperature below freezing and even had the ability to slowly repair itself from minor damage. With some "external assistance" from the artisans of the Night's Watch, it could withstand countless cycles of summer and winter while maintaining its height and form, loyally guarding the realm of men.
The third type, and the most troublesome for the Cold God Priests, was the "Suppression Field" radiating outward from the core source of the Wall's magic.
Residents Beyond the Wall and rangers of the Night's Watch who frequently passed through the Wall had, through practical observation and logical deduction, independently arrived at the same conclusion: the closer the enemy got to the Wall, the weaker their strength became.
That judgment was mostly correct, but the details needed to be clarified and supplemented.
The more accurate truth was that cold magic was increasingly suppressed the closer one approached the glowing weirwood heart tree beneath Nightfort.
Moreover, the suppression's effect on wights and White Walkers was fundamentally different.
Wights could "die and rise again" by relying on the cold magic injected by Cold God Priests, but their strength came solely from their physical bodies. As they approached the "magic suppression source" at Nightfort, their connection to the White Walkers would weaken, resulting in delayed commands, drastically reduced control range, or even complete loss of control. However, regardless of location—whether in the Land of Always Winter, near the Wall, or directly before the weirwood tree beneath Nightfort—wights remained wights. They only had two states: "dead" or "alive," "controlled" or "uncontrolled." Their strength did not change depending on their location.
White Walkers were a different matter. Their bodies were made up of 99 percent magic. While they were nearly immune to physical damage and possessed a wide array of magical abilities, they were also significantly affected by the suppression field. Simply approaching the Wall greatly diminished the effectiveness of their magic. Once across the Gorge, the magic recovery rate for Cold God Priests dropped to just 1 percent of normal, and their overall magic strength was halved.
And that was only at Shadow Tower, the westernmost point of the Wall. As they advanced toward the Wall's center, the suppression would become more intense. Outside Nightfort, the Cold God Priests might only be able to utilize a tenth or two of their full power.
The most infuriating part was that this magical field only suppressed cold magic. It had no effect on other types of magic and was even beneficial to them.
The Wall's massive form, intricate magic, and the largest standing army in Westeros together formed this mighty shield for mankind. If the Night's Watch could gather a large army at Nightfort for a decisive battle against the dead, it would be hard to say who would prevail.
This was precisely why the Night King, despite targeting Nightfort, did not bypass the other fortresses to strike directly. Instead, he chose to fight his way through them one by one. His plan was to first break open both ends of the Wall, far from Nightfort, and continuously defeat the human defenders. Along the way, he would seize the stairs in the Night's Watch fortresses leading to the top of the Wall and replenish his forces. Once the tactical goal of occupying the top of the Wall was achieved, he would then deploy wights across the Wall's summit to advance toward Nightfort. With the army on the ground coordinating the assault, he would launch a full-scale, three-dimensional attack on his final target from two different heights separated by seven hundred feet. This would completely isolate Nightfort, cut off all escape routes, and ensure that, even with cold magic being suppressed, he could still capture Nightfort and destroy the source of the Wall's magic.
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In the long run, wights were the most renewable resource and didn't need to be conserved. But for now, while the Wall's magic was still active, the Night King still had to rely on these puppets to fight the living defenders.
Weapons capable of instantly killing Corpse Giants could just as easily kill Cold God Priests. He needed enough wights to cover them, preventing the human warriors from identifying, locating, and charging in to decapitate or snipe them. He needed enough wights to storm the stairs at Shadow Tower after breaching the fortress, seize control of the top of the Ice Wall, sever communication lines between human fortresses, and continue charging toward Nightfort. He also needed a large enough army of wights to mount a direct assault on the Night's Watch's largest fortress, under conditions where cold magic was nearly ineffective, and ultimately destroy the Wall's magic.
However, the human defenders' preparations were far more thorough than anticipated.
Capturing the Gorge defense line had taken less than an hour, but had cost nearly twenty thousand wights. Yet, less than half an hour after the battle began beneath Shadow Tower—a fortress originally intended to be taken swiftly—that strange fuel had already turned thousands of wights into ash beneath the Wall. This was a loss that couldn't be replenished even if everyone inside the fortress were slaughtered. The humans' terrifying green oil seemed endless. If they continued storming fortresses one by one, losing thousands here and tens of thousands there, by the time they reached Nightfort, the Cold God Priests might end up as solitary commanders, forced to fight in close combat themselves.
The Night King carefully observed Shadow Tower for a moment with eyes sharper than a falcon's, and finally discovered the reason for the defenders' abundant firepower. On the sturdy wooden stairs built against the Wall, dozens of living men were moving up and down, panting. If he was not mistaken, they were transporting that liquid fuel from other fortresses along the Wall to Shadow Tower, ensuring the defenders had seemingly inexhaustible supplies of weapons.
His plan to exhaust the enemy's resources and achieve an easy victory had failed. The Night King realized he couldn't continue like this.
He turned his head and looked at the other Cold God Priests beside him, then gave a command in a sharp, grating ancient tongue. Three of his subordinates silently nodded and rode their corpse horses forward. As magic surged, a layer of armor-like substance condensed over their bodies, capable of withstanding ordinary frozen fire attacks. At the same time, the sea of corpses churned, with countless fast-moving wights transformed from animals like bears and wolves pushing aside the humanoid wights to follow the White Walker vanguard, charging straight at the blazing gate of Shadow Tower.
Maintaining that layer of ice armor consumed a significant amount of magic. Using other techniques simultaneously would place an unbearable burden on all but the most powerful Priests. But to stop the rising wight casualties, the Night King had decided: he would employ his ultimate tactics, ahead of schedule.
(To be continued.)
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