The morning light in the Red Keep's council chamber was heavier than usual, and the candles at both ends of the long table flickered slightly in the cold wind from the open window, making the shadows of the regional representatives dance between light and dark.
Tyrion stood before the table, leaning on his oak cane, his fingertips repeatedly caressing the edge of the "Conscription Order Adjustment Draft"—this was the plan he had revised five times last night, incorporating the information about the cold god brought back by Miss Arya and Lord Illyrio.
Faint charcoal marks from revisions remained next to newly added clauses on the parchment, such as "Post-War Tax Reductions" and "Territorial Defense Support."
To the left of the long table, Jason Lannister's red brocade robe gleamed in the morning light.
He deliberately tapped his bronze ring lightly on the table, a slow rhythm with a deliberate provocation.
Edgar Frey of the Riverlands sat beside him, his hands clasped on the table, but his gaze occasionally darted towards the door—he was waiting for reinforcements from the Westerlands.
As soon as the other two minor lords from the Westerlands arrived, the dissenting voices would outweigh the supporters.
On the right, Sansa had shed her thick Northern wool dress for a light linen robe, with a Direwolf-patterned belt around her waist.
She had just rushed back to the council chamber from the docks—the intelligence about the "cold god's westward expansion" brought back by Miss Arya and Lord Illyrio had kept her awake all night.
She now clutched the sketch depicting the Ice Fog Sea Monster and Others' runes, her knuckles white from the tight grip.
Yara leaned back in her chair, the metal buckles of her black leather armor clinking crisply.
Her gaze was fixed on Jason, a cold smile playing on her lips—last night, she had sent Iron Islands scouts to confirm that the Westerlands' so-called "insufficient troops" was a lie; Jason had at least five thousand soldiers hidden away.
Daenerys sat at the head of the long table, a dragon-patterned cloak over her plain linen robe.
The warmth of her dragonblood jade belt permeated through the fabric, yet it couldn't quell the impatience in her brows.
Bran's Greensight warning had come again last night: the Wights army from the Arctic ice fields had begun moving towards the Wall, with their vanguard only ten days away from Eastwatch-by-the-Sea.
If the conscription order was delayed further, the Night's Watch wouldn't be able to hold out until the allied forces arrived.
"My lords and ladies," Tyrion cleared his throat, tapping his cane on the stone floor with a decisive "thud," breaking the dead silence in the hall.
"We reconvene today to finalize the conscription order.
Before that, I would like to ask Miss Arya and Lord Illyrio to present the latest intelligence from the Western Sea—this concerns the life and death of all Westeros."
Miss Arya walked to the center of the council chamber and unfurled the sketch on the long table: "We encountered the cold god's 'ice mist remnants' on the Westerly shipping lanes.
The sea mist carried a biting cold that could freeze seawater; the infected Ice Fog Sea Monster were the size of warhorses, their tentacles covered in ice crystals, and any wounds they inflicted would quickly freeze.
Even more terrifying, Others' seamen were controlling these monsters, their ice spears etched with cold god runes, aiming to spread the ice mist and contaminate the lord's territories in the Western Sea."
Lord Illyrio added: "The Citadel's tests show that although the concentration of the cold god's energy in the ice mist is low, it can slowly infect living beings.
If we don't defend against it in time, within three months, all ports in the Western Sea will be covered by ice mist.
At that point, the allied forces' sea supply lines will be completely cut off, and the coastlines of the Westerlands and The Stormlands will also become Wights' landing points."
The hall immediately erupted in commotion.
The faces of the minor Westerlands lords who had initially supported Jason suddenly changed—most of their territories were near the coastline; if the ice mist truly spread, they would be the first to suffer.
Edgar Frey's fingers stopped tapping.
He subconsciously looked at the monster's image on the sketch, remembering that the Riverlands' rivers were connected to the sea.
If the Ice Fog Sea Monster invaded via the rivers, the Riverlands' farmlands would be completely frozen.
Jason Lannister's face showed cracks for the first time.
He reached for the sketch, his fingertips tracing the outline of the Ice Fog Sea Monster, his voice deliberately calm: "This is just your side of the story.
Who's to say it isn't a lie fabricated to force us to send troops?"
"Whether it's a lie, Lord Jason can ask The Citadel's representative." Miss Arya turned to The Citadel messenger, who immediately rose and presented a Citadel test report.
"This is Maester Sam's 'ice mist Energy Analysis,' prepared overnight, including the results of dragonglass testing—the cold god's energy in the ice mist is identical to the energy in the Arctic ice fields, and can even replicate the 'ice crystal infection' effect in the laboratory."
A minor Westerlands lord suddenly stood up, his voice frantic: "My territory is in Lannisport.
If the ice mist covers the port, all merchant ships will be frozen, and the commoners' food supplies won't be able to get in!
Lord Jason, we cannot delay any longer!"
Another representative from The Stormlands echoed: "The Stormlands' Storm's End is by the sea, and the Night's Watch intelligence says Wights can attack from the sea.
Without allied support, we can't hold them off!"
Jason's face grew increasingly grim.
He hadn't expected the cold god's threat to come so quickly, nor had he expected the minor lords of the Westerlands to be the first to defect.
Edgar Frey was also wavering now.
He leaned in and whispered to Jason: "My lord, most of the Riverlands' food relies on sea transport.
If the ports are frozen, we won't even be able to protect our own territories, let alone contend for interests."
Tyrion seized the opportunity, pushing the "Conscription Order Adjustment Draft" to the center of the long table: "Everyone needn't worry.
The adjusted plan not only retains the original 'Alliance Supply of Food and Grass' and 'Unified Supply of dragonglass weapons,' but also adds three new guarantees:
Firstly, all territories providing troops will receive a five-year tax exemption after the war, and if a territory is damaged fighting the cold god, the Alliance will allocate funds for reconstruction.
Secondly, during the deployment, the Alliance will send Unsullied and R'hllor Warriors to all territories to assist with defense; Lannisport in the Westerlands and Riverrun in the Riverlands will be prioritized for garrison arrangements.
Thirdly, if a soldier dies in battle, their family will receive a ten-year pension, and their children will have priority for positions in The Citadel or The Vale."
He paused, his gaze sweeping over Jason and Edgar: "Lord Jason, if the Westerlands provide three thousand two hundred troops, the Alliance will send five hundred R'hllor Warriors to Lannisport and provide an additional two thousand stones of food and grass.
Lord Edgar, if the Riverlands provide one thousand eight hundred troops, the Unsullied will be stationed in Riverrun, and The Citadel will also send agricultural scholars to guide spring plowing, ensuring a bountiful harvest after the war."
These words precisely hit the opposition's weak spot.
Jason looked at the expectant gazes of the minor Westerlands lords, knowing that further opposition would only lose him popular support—the Westerlands' nobility ultimately cared more about territorial security than his lust for power.
Edgar directly picked up his quill and signed his name on the draft: "The Riverlands agree to send troops!
But the Alliance must honor its promise; the Unsullied must be stationed in Riverrun within three days!"
The atmosphere in the hall completely reversed, and the formerly opposing factions gradually merged.
Cleo Lannister of the Westerlands (Jason's nephew) was the first to state: "The Westerlands are willing to provide three thousand two hundred troops as per the conscription order, and fifteen thousand stones of food and grass.
However, the R'hllor Warriors must arrive in Lannisport within five days; we need time to prepare defensive works."
Jason looked at his nephew's signature, then at the eyes of the surrounding Westerlands lords, and finally relented: "The Westerlands agree to the conscription order, but I want to personally select the R'hllor Warriors stationed in Lannisport to ensure they do not interfere with the Westerlands' internal affairs."
"No problem," Daenerys immediately responded.
"The R'hllor Warriors' duty is to defend against the cold god and Wights, and they will absolutely not interfere in internal territorial affairs.
Should there be any violation, the Alliance will immediately recall and severely punish them."
The representative from The Stormlands also signed at this point: "The Stormlands will provide two thousand troops and send three warships to assist the allied forces in patrolling the coastline.
We only ask that the Alliance prioritize the supply of R'hllor equipment—our soldiers have never fought against ice mist and need sufficient protection."
Obara Sand, the Dornish representative, smiled and added: "Dorne's two thousand five hundred troops are already assembled at the border, and sunflower oil is also prepared.
As soon as the conscription order passes, they can depart within three days.
Additionally, Dorne is willing to open Sunspear's port as a backup supply point for the allied forces, to prevent the Western Sea from being blockaded by ice mist."
Sansa then stood up and placed the Northern troop manifest on the table: "The North's five thousand troops are already assembled in White Harbor, and twenty thousand stones of food and grass have been loaded.
Wyman, the son of Lord Manderly, will serve as commander, and they will depart for the Wall on time in three days.
The North's rangers will assist in monitoring the troop deployment progress of all territories, and if any lord delays, it will be reported to the council immediately."
Yara also signed her name: "The Iron Islands' five hundred men and five warships are already on standby in Blackwater Bay.
We will be responsible for the allied forces' sea supply lines, and simultaneously patrol the Western Sea.
Should ice mist or Others' Sea Monster be discovered, the Alliance will be immediately notified via raven."
Tyrion looked at the signatures, a sense of relief washing over him.
He walked to the center of the long table and raised the draft in his hand: "Now, all territories have reached a consensus.
The final plan for the 'Westeros Anti-Cold God Conscription Order' covers four major areas: military strength, food and grass, defense, and post-war compensation, balancing the Alliance's needs with the interests of each territory—this is not a one-sided demand, but a common fight for all Westerosi."
Daenerys stood up, her voice carrying an undeniable authority: "Since all of you have agreed, I declare the 'Westeros Anti-Cold God Conscription Order' officially passed!
Effective immediately, all territories must complete troop assembly within twenty days and arrive at their designated positions on the Wall within thirty days.
Lord Tyrion will serve as the Quartermaster General of the allied forces, coordinating the allocation of food and grass, weapons, and equipment.
Jon will command the allied forces, and Lord Illyrio will serve as tactical advisor, responsible for formulating the northern campaign tactics.
Miss Arya and Lady Yara will be responsible for overseeing the sea supply lines and the defense of the Western Sea."
After the council concluded, representatives from various territories left the Red Keep to return to their lands and prepare for deployment.
Jason Lannister was the last to leave.
As he passed Tyrion, he said stiffly: "Imp, don't think this will make the Westerlands submit.
If the Alliance fails to fulfill its promises, the R'hllor Warriors in Lannisport will become enemies of the Westerlands."
Tyrion smiled in response: "Lord Jason, the Alliance's promises are never just empty words.
You can send Westerlands scouts to monitor the R'hllor Warriors' actions, and you can check the progress of food and grass transport at any time—we welcome all oversight, as long as it allows the allied forces to advance North smoothly."
Jason snorted coldly and turned to leave.
Tyrion watched his retreating back and said to the council secretary beside him: "Send two Unsullied to discreetly track Jason's messenger.
He will certainly try to cause trouble in the Westerlands, such as hoarding troops or delaying food and grass—we must prepare in advance and not let him affect the allied forces' assembly."
After the secretary left, Sansa walked over to Tyrion and handed him the patrol plan for the North: "The Northern Rangers have been divided into five teams, stationed at key routes in the Westerlands, Riverlands, and The Stormlands. If a Lord delays, they will first be warned, and if the warning is ineffective, they will be forcibly assisted in deploying troops. Additionally, I have written to Jon, instructing him to prepare to receive the allied army at the Wall and to build camps and granaries in advance."
"Well done," Tyrion nodded. "The dragonglass weapons from The Citadel are still being rushed into production, and Melisandre's R'hllor Warriors equipment also needs time to be blessed. We must ensure that all territories arrive on time, otherwise the weapons and equipment will be left idle, wasting resources."
At the same time, Arya and Illyrio were checking on Drogon and Rhaegal in The Vale. Drogon's bronze scales gleamed in the sunlight. Seeing the dragon evolution fluid sample in Arya's hand, he voluntarily lowered his head and nudged her palm with his snout—he could sense the Dragon's Nest energy in the sample, and his eyes were full of anticipation.
"The Dragon Healer from The Citadel said that the dragon evolution fluid needs to be fed in three separate doses, with a five-day interval between each, so that the dragon's body can gradually adapt to the energy," Illyrio handed the sample to the Dragon Healer. "After the first feeding, the dragonflame temperature will increase by twenty percent. After the third, it will reach a temperature capable of breaking through the cold god's ice barrier."
Arya nodded, her gaze fixed on the direction of the Wall: "The conscription order has passed, and the allied army will soon head north. By then, Drogon and Rhaegal's evolution will also be complete, and we will be able to use dragonflame to destroy the cold god's ice core." She paused, then gripped Illyrio's hand. "After we win this war, let's go see the Godswood in the North. Bran said the weirwood trees there can show the past. I want to see what Father and Robb looked like."
Illyrio squeezed her hand back, his eyes full of tenderness: "Alright, not only will we go to the Godswood, but we'll also go see the sea in the Iron Islands, and the sunflowers in Dorne—when peace comes, we'll visit all the places we've protected."
[Westerlands' Private Schemes: Jason's Backup Plan and the Alliance's Response]
Three days later, in Casterly Rock castle in the Westerlands, Jason Lannister was secretly meeting with two of his loyal Lords. A map of the Westerlands' troop distribution was spread on the stone table in the room. Jason circled "Lannisport" with a red pen: "The R'hllor Warriors sent by the alliance are only five hundred strong. Our hidden three thousand soldiers are enough to control them—only ten thousand stones of provisions will be sent, the remaining five thousand stones will be kept in Casterly Rock as the Westerlands' reserve."
One of the loyal Lords said worriedly: "Lord Jason, the Northern Rangers are patrolling outside the city. If they discover us hiding troops, they will immediately report it to the alliance..."
"What are you afraid of?" Jason interrupted him, pulling a secret letter from his Pregnant. "This is what I wrote to the Qarthian Merchants. They are willing to help us 'delay' the allied army's provision transport—as long as we give them one hundred catties of dragonglass, they will create a 'storm' at sea, delaying the alliance's provision ships by ten days. By then, the allied army will be short on provisions at the Wall and will have to rely on the Westerlands' reserves. We can then propose a condition: after the war, the Westerlands must control the dragonglass mines of Casterly Rock."
The other loyal Lord echoed: "Lord Jason is brilliant! As long as the allied army relies on us, Daenerys and Tyrion will not dare to offend the Westerlands, and we will hold the initiative in the post-war power distribution."
The two reached a consensus and raised their cups in an oath, unaware that in the shadows outside the window, a Northern Ranger was recording their conversation with a charcoal pencil. The Ranger quickly returned to the temporary post station in the Westerlands and sent the intelligence to Sansa via raven. Sansa immediately forwarded it to Tyrion in King's Landing.
When Tyrion received the intelligence, he was in the quartermaster's storehouse checking the packing of provisions. He looked at the Ranger's record, a cold smile playing on his lips: "Jason Lannister is still not giving up, trying to extort the alliance with provisions." He told the quartermaster, "Immediately adjust the provision transport plan: the ten thousand stones of provisions for the Westerlands will be escorted by the Northern Rangers directly to the Wall, bypassing Casterly Rock; additionally, five thousand stones of provisions will be diverted from King's Landing's granary and transported to Eastwatch-by-the-Sea in advance as a backup—even if Jason Lannister's plot succeeds, the allied army will not lack provisions."
After the quartermaster left, Tyrion wrote another letter to Yara, asking her to send Iron Islands warships to strengthen patrols in the Western Sea, to prevent the Qarthian Merchants from creating a "storm." Upon receiving the letter, Yara immediately dispatched three of her fastest longships to patrol the Westerlands coastline, while also sending scouts to monitor the movements of the Qarthian Merchants—if they dared to approach the provision ships, they would be driven away with dragonglass fire oil.
Ten days later, the docks and streets of King's Landing buzzed with activity. Five thousand soldiers from the North, wearing dark gray armor and carrying dragonglass spears, arrived in King's Landing from White Harbor, led by Wyman Manderly, ready to rendezvous with soldiers from other territories. The three thousand two hundred men from the Westerlands, though late, also brought ten thousand stones of provisions as required, and were neatly lined up in the camp outside the city under the supervision of the Northern Rangers.
The eighteen hundred men from the Riverlands were led by Edgar Frey. Their armor was still dusty from the journey, but each man was full of spirit—the news that the Unsullied had garrisoned Riverrun had relieved their worries, and now they only wanted to reach the Wall as quickly as possible to fight for their homeland. The two thousand five hundred men from Dorne wore orange leather armor, with sunflower oil flasks hanging from their waists. Their arrival brought the warmth of the tropics, and also hope against the bitter cold.
The two thousand men from The Stormlands and the five hundred men from the Iron Islands had already met at sea. Yara's five warships escorted the provision ships, sailing towards Eastwatch-by-the-Sea. The Stormlands stag emblem and the Iron Islands kraken emblem intertwined on the sails, particularly striking in the sunlight, as if proclaiming the unity of the alliance.
The dragonglass craftsmen from The Citadel and Melisandre's Red Priests/Priestesses were also busy. The dragonglass craftsmen worked day and night to produce dragonglass weapons, each spear and arrow meticulously polished, their tips glowing faintly; the Red Priests/Priestesses gathered around the R'hllor Warriors altar, blessing the weapons with R'hllor Warriors, golden flames spreading along the dragonglass, imbuing the weapons with a sacred glow.
Daenerys stood on the Red Keep's terrace, looking at the assembled soldiers and busy civilians below, her heart filled with satisfaction. Tyrion walked over to her, handing her a report on the allied army's assembly: "All territorial forces have arrived as required, and provisions and weapons are ready. They will officially head north in three days. Jon has made preparations at the Wall, the camp at Eastwatch-by-the-Sea can accommodate twenty thousand soldiers, and the granaries are full."
"Very good," Daenerys nodded, her gaze directed towards The Vale—Drogon and Rhaegal's first evolution was complete, and their dragonflame temperature had significantly increased. During yesterday's test, the dragonflame easily melted thick ice, giving everyone hope.
"Where are Arya and Illyrio?" Daenerys asked.
"They are at the camp, instructing soldiers on how to use R'hllor Warriors weapons," Tyrion said with a smile. "The combination of Arya's swordsmanship and Illyrio's tactics has led to rapid progress among the soldiers. They are now proficient in using R'hllor Warriors-blessed dragonglass spears, and their confidence in fighting Wights has grown."
Daenerys followed Tyrion's gaze. In the camp, Arya was holding a valyrian steel dagger, demonstrating how to apply r'hllor powder to the blade; Illyrio stood before a sand table, explaining the terrain of the Wall and the Wights' weaknesses to the soldiers. The sunlight spilled over them, intertwining with the glint of the soldiers' armor and weapons, forming a warm band of light.
She knew that the passing of the conscription order was only the beginning of the war against the cold god, and many more difficulties awaited in the future. But looking at the united alliance, the determined soldiers, and the hopeful civilians before her, her heart was filled with confidence—as long as everyone fought side by side, there would be no enemy that could not be defeated, no hardship that could not be overcome.
Three days later, the allied army officially departed from King's Landing. The soldiers marched in neat formation, carrying R'hllor Warriors dragonglass weapons, advancing towards the Wall; the warships at sea also unfurled their sails, escorting provisions and equipment, sailing towards Eastwatch-by-the-Sea. The civilians of King's Landing stood on both sides of the streets, waving strips of cloth and shouting slogans like "Allied army will win" and "Defeat the cold god," their voices echoing to the heavens, intertwining with Drogon's distant roar, like an inspiring battle song, illuminating the path against the cold god.
The allied army's column stretched for several miles along the main road, dark gray Northern armor, red Westerlands battle robes, orange Dornish leather armor, and black Iron Islands attire interwoven, forming a colorful torrent. Arya and Illyrio walked side by side in the middle of the procession, holding each other's hands, their gazes fixed firmly ahead—they knew that ahead lay not only cold ice fields and ferocious Wights, but also the mission to protect their homeland and the hope of ushering in peace.
Sansa stood on the city walls of King's Landing, watching the allied army's backs gradually disappear into the distance, holding the Direwolf emblem left by Ned, silently thinking: "Father, Robb, we will defend the North, defend Westeros, and not let your sacrifices be in vain."
Tyrion remained in King's Landing, coordinating the subsequent supply of provisions and weapons. He stood before the quartermaster's storehouse, watching the craftsmen load the last batch of R'hllor Warriors equipment onto carriages, his heart full of anticipation: "When the allied army wins this war, Westeros will usher in true peace. By then, the council system will allow all territories to coexist harmoniously, and there will be no more war and suffering."
Daenerys rode Drogon, circling above the allied army's ranks, her dragonflame occasionally spewing into the sky, illuminating the path ahead. She looked at the soldiers below, her eyes filled with determination: "Warriors, our destination is the Wall, the Arctic ice fields, the cold god's altar! As long as we are united, as long as R'hllor Warriors and dragonflame are with us, we will surely defeat the cold god and restore freedom and peace to Westeros!"
The soldiers cheered in unison, their voices reverberating between heaven and earth, intertwining with Drogon's roar, the neighing of warhorses, and the clash of weapons, forming a powerful force. The journey north officially began, and the decisive battle against the cold god drew ever closer, but no one was afraid anymore—because they knew they were not fighting alone, but with all of Westeros fighting side by side.
The distant Wall was faintly visible, its gray ramparts gleaming coldly in the sunlight, yet unable to stop the allied army's advance. Although the cold god's ice mist had spread across the Arctic, it could not block the light of R'hllor Warriors and dragonflame. A war that would determine the fate of Westeros was about to begin between the Wall and the Arctic ice fields, drawing the most magnificent curtain.