Immediately after, an even stranger scene unfolded.
The grotesque, towering ice spiders lifted their frost-coated, hideous heads. Their jagged mouthparts opened and closed as they spewed strands of ice spun from absolute cold.
The ice threads spread and intertwined rapidly in the air, weaving themselves into enormous, blue-glowing webs that draped down over the areas still burning with wildfire.
When the wildfire touched these ice webs, it was as if it had met its natural nemesis.
The green flames thrashed wildly, trying to consume the ice threads, but the overwhelming cold radiating from them crushed the fire almost instantly.
Under the cover of the ice nets, the flames dimmed and shrank at a visible pace, hissing as they faded, until they finally went out completely amid rising clouds of steam.
The ice spiders seemed thoroughly pleased with their handiwork. Their many-jointed legs tapped against the ice with sharp clacking sounds.
Their monstrous mouthparts spread wide, releasing piercing shrieks that made ears ache, as if deliberately taunting the defenders on the walls.
"Gods…"
A Stormlands noble's legs gave out, and he nearly collapsed, all color draining from his face.
The other nobles were scarcely in better shape.
Lord Wyman's fleshy face twitched uncontrollably, while Davos's clenched fists turned white at the knuckles.
Mance Rayder wore a heavy expression that plainly said, "I warned you."
The wildlings' fear and reverence for the Others ran far deeper than that of the southern lords.
Lo Quen's pupils contracted slightly, but there was no panic on his face.
He barked sharply at the catapult crews whose movements had slowed from fear.
"Don't stop! Keep firing! Load more wildfire!"
His command snapped the stunned soldiers back to themselves.
Even if those terrifying ice spiders could extinguish wildfire with ease, the king's orders were absolute.
The winches creaked again as another wave of emerald clay jars was hurled into the sky.
This time, however, the results were far less impressive.
The ice spiders had clearly found a way to counter it.
They maneuvered their massive bodies with surprising agility, craning their heads and spewing even more ice webs toward the wildfire jars flying overhead.
Many of the jars were intercepted in midair, wrapped up by the icy nets before they could hit the ground. Inside the webs, the wildfire burned furiously, bursting into dazzling yet pointless green fireworks. They lit up the bleak sky for a moment but posed almost no threat to the wight horde below.
The few jars that slipped through caused nowhere near the destruction of the first volley.
Seeing this, Lo Quen knew the wildfire's decisive advantage was gone. Continuing to waste such a precious resource would achieve nothing.
He waved his hand decisively.
"Cease fire!"
Almost at the same moment the wildfire threat was completely neutralized, the wight army surged forward.
Countless feet stamped across the ice, producing a skin-crawling rustle.
The wights split into three groups. One charged straight toward the walls of Moat Cailin, while the other two tried to sweep around the flanks, aiming for the sides guarded by the frost giants.
"Prepare to engage!"
The shouts of officers rang out along the ramparts.
The frost giants on the flanks responded first.
These ancient constructs, bound by the Horn of Winter, let out roars like collapsing mountains and swung fists the size of houses, smashing down on the wights trying to cross the trench.
Boom! Crash!
Each blow instantly crushed dozens, even hundreds, of wights into true pulp, gouging deep craters into the frozen ground.
Some wights tried to scramble up the giants' legs, thick as stone pillars. The giants simply flicked their arms, flinging these "ants" away as easily as dust, hurling them back into the following ranks and throwing the formation into chaos.
Every movement of the giants shook the earth. Their sheer presence brutally halted the wight army's flanking advance.
Meanwhile, the main body of wights attacking the walls of Moat Cailin was even more horrifying.
They clambered over one another, digging their nails into the cracks of the stone as they climbed.
Those behind used the bodies of their fellows as footholds, piling them into makeshift ladders.
Shrill, guttural screeches tore from their rotting throats, and their icy blue eyes merged into a sea of death in the gloom as they surged ever closer to the walls.
Lo Quen drew his sword.
"All soldiers, fight to the death! Remember, the Others can only be killed with Valyrian steel and Dragonglass weapons. Against the wights, aim for the head and the joints!"
Even as he gave the order, he was painfully aware of the reality. Valyrian steel weapons were far too rare.
As for Dragonglass…
The Wall had collapsed too suddenly. Although he had sent Davos with a detachment to Dragonstone to mine Dragonglass, the amount they managed to bring back was extremely limited, enough to equip fewer than a hundred men.
For the vast majority of soldiers, they would still have to face these monsters with ordinary steel.
The soldiers swallowed hard, suppressing the fear that rose from the depths of their souls, and tightened their grips on spears, axes, and swords.
But there was no room to retreat.
The nobles looked just as grim. They understood that this battle was not about honor alone, but about the survival of their entire people.
"For survival!"
Someone shouted the words. The cry was faint, yet it sparked the last embers of courage.
At that moment, a majestic dragon's roar rolled across the sky.
Lo Quen swung himself onto Blooddancer's back. The massive red dragon spread its wings and soared upward.
At the same time, the four queens, clad in Valyrian steel armor and armed with Valyrian steel swords, mounted their own dragons.
Jaelena rode Silverfall. Janice took Duskshadow. Daenerys mounted Greysmoke. Chai Yiq rode Ashshadow.
The young dragon Seaheart, still too small, was kept within the tower for protection.
In the next instant, five colossal dragons ruled the skies above the battlefield.
Blooddancer unleashed blazing crimson fire. Silverfall poured down cascades of silver-white flame. Duskshadow's dragonfire burned a deep, haunting purple. Greysmoke's flames were a murky gray-brown, while Ashshadow's black-red fire carried a terrifying, all-devouring aura.
Five colors of dragonfire lashed down like flaming whips wielded by the gods themselves, crashing into the dense tide of wights.
Wherever the flames passed, wights were erased in swathes, reduced to drifting ash.
The defenders on the walls erupted in thunderous cheers at the sight, their morale surging.
Archers loosed arrows at the wights climbing the walls below. The effect was limited, but it was better than doing nothing.
Lo Quen rode atop Blooddancer, directing it to cut down wights with ruthless efficiency while scanning the battlefield, especially the Others riders flickering in and out of view within the sea of dead.
He was desperate to find the command core of this army, the possible "Night King."
But the wights were simply too numerous.
The Others were scattered throughout the ranks. They seemed to act independently, yet their movements were strangely coordinated.
He made another pass, still finding no obvious commander.
As he focused on searching, system notifications flashed rapidly through his mind:
[Dragon's Soul +1]
[Dragon's Soul +2]
[Dragon's Soul +1]
…
Dragon's Souls from the fallen wights poured continuously into his body, and he could feel the purity of his Dragonblood steadily rising.
Then danger struck without warning.
A piercing crack, sharp enough to tear the air apart, erupted from below and to the side.
Alarm bells rang in Lo Quen's mind as he snapped his head around.
Roughly three hundred feet away, an Other riding a death mammoth had just completed a throwing motion.
A ghastly pale streak of cold light tore through the air at terrifying speed, aimed straight at his chest.
It was a spear formed entirely of ice, its tip gleaming with lethal blue light.
"Dodge!"
Lo Quen reacted instantly, his will linking with Blooddancer's.
Blooddancer let out a low roar. Despite its immense size, its body moved with astonishing agility. Its wings beat hard as it dropped sharply to one side.
The ice spear, radiating bone-chilling cold, skimmed past the very tip of Blooddancer's wing and vanished into the distant blizzard.
Cold sweat broke out across Lo Quen's back as fury surged within him.
He fixed a dark glare on the Other who had thrown the spear, instantly recognizing the greatest threat in the air.
Guiding Blooddancer, he flew swiftly toward the left side of the battlefield, where Jaelena and Janice were fighting.
"Watch out for the Others' ice spears! They can threaten dragons. Don't stay in one place for too long!"
He shouted the warning.
Seeing the gravity on Lo Quen's face, the sisters immediately understood the danger.
They guided Silverfall and Duskshadow, both more than a hundred feet long, into more erratic and agile flight paths. Their dragonfire attacks became shorter and more controlled, denying the Others easy targets.
Lo Quen felt a measure of relief and turned toward the right flank, where Daenerys and Chai Yiq were holding the line.
He had barely drawn near when another heart-stopping crack split the air.
"Dany, watch out!"
Lo Quen shouted.
He saw an Other riding a skeletal warhorse hurl an ice spear that streaked like lightning toward Daenerys on Greysmoke's back.
Greysmoke was still young, but fiercely protective. Sensing the danger, it let out a sharp cry and twisted its body with all its strength, desperately trying to evade the attack.