The return journey was filled with oppression and tension.
Every soldier's nerves were stretched to the breaking point, their weapons kept drawn at all times.
They knew they had provoked an unimaginably terrifying enemy.
They had destroyed an altar and stolen a "sacred relic." The dead would not let this go easily.
Furthermore, the dragon egg was vital; they could not afford to lose it.
This forced them to double their caution.
Lynn rode on horseback, hugging the dragon egg wrapped in thick furs tightly to his chest.
He could clearly feel a cold, malicious gaze following them like a shadow.
That gaze came from the north, from the endless darkness.
The Night King was watching them.
He was waiting for an opportunity.
"My Lord, the scouts found tracks."
Jason rode up to Lynn, keeping his voice low.
"Something has been following us."
"What is it?"
"I don't know."
Jason shook his head, his face showing confusion and unease.
"It's very careful. It never gets close."
"When we gather the courage to investigate, it retreats immediately."
"And the tracks left in the snow are strange. Like... it has no weight at all. They appear and disappear."
Lynn's heart sank, but he showed no fear.
"Pass the order."
Lynn's voice was frighteningly calm.
"Everyone, pick up the pace."
"We must find a defensible position to make camp before dark."
"Also, everyone gather wood. The bigger the fire, the better!"
"Yes, my Lord!"
The column's speed increased sharply.
Hooves kicked up sprays of snow.
The oppressive atmosphere made it hard to breathe.
They were like a flock of sheep stalked by wolves, desperately running toward a distant pen.
Night eventually fell.
The expeditionary force made camp in a narrow ravine backed by a cliff.
Surrounded by mountains on three sides with only one exit, it was an excellent defensive position.
The Night King's main army was far in the north and couldn't possibly catch up. The number of dead they would face wouldn't be large.
Dozens of bonfires were lit, illuminating the ravine as if it were day.
The soldiers did not rest.
Under Lynn's command, they quickly set up numerous cheval de frise and spike traps at the single entrance.
They also piled massive amounts of dry wood on both sides of the entrance.
Then, the guards ignited them with flint.
Everything proceeded in an orderly fashion.
Lynn stood in the center of the camp, still holding the dragon egg.
He could feel the pulse of life inside the egg growing stronger than before.
It was absorbing his body heat and the warmth of the surrounding fires.
It was growing.
But for this little guy to truly hatch, it was still too troublesome.
Maegi's blood was easy enough; any maester from the Citadel would do, or a respected one if a common one wouldn't suffice.
King's blood was tricky. Jon and Aemon were his own people. He'd have to find an opportunity with Robert or Joffrey.
Khal Drogo's king's blood was out of the question; Lynn simply didn't want Dany being ridden by the Horse Lord...
As for the blood of the dragon...
Blood purity was key. Not every Targaryen had a high enough concentration.
Especially Jon; he only had half Targaryen blood. And Aemon was on his side; Lynn couldn't harm him.
The problem circled back to Viserys, the product of incest.
To hatch a dragon, he'd have to cross the Narrow Sea to find the Beggar King.
Or maybe Daenerys's unborn child would be needed...
Either way, he had to find those two. He could check on Daenerys while he was at it, and ideally lure her away from Viserys.
That way, he could hatch the three dragon eggs Illyrio Mopatis gave her along with his own, saving on costs.
And if he lacked the Old Valyrian blood to control dragons, Daenerys could help him command them.
But if Daenerys didn't marry the Horse Lord, Illyrio wouldn't gift the eggs. It was a bit tricky...
Lynn calculated silently.
"My Lord, everything is ready."
Torren's voice interrupted Lynn's thoughts.
He walked up to Lynn, a trace of nervousness on his face.
Lynn nodded.
He looked out toward the deep darkness beyond the ravine.
"They're coming."
No sooner had he spoken than the deep darkness outside the ravine grew even thicker.
The wind stopped.
The snow stopped.
A suffocating silence enveloped the world.
The flames of the dozens of roaring bonfires began to flicker unnaturally, their light dimming rapidly.
The temperature plummeted at a speed that defied logic.
The white breaths exhaled by the soldiers froze into frost almost instantly.
"They're here..."
Jason's teeth chattered uncontrollably from the cold.
Everyone gripped their weapons, hearts pounding, staring fixedly at the single entrance to the ravine.
From the darkness, there came no roars or shrieks of thousands of wights as expected.
Only dead silence.
Then, a figure emerged silently from the gloom.
Its form was tall and elegant, like a work of art carved from ice crystals.
Its skin was pale as permafrost, emitting a faint blue fluorescence.
Its armor was ancient in style, shifting with a strange sheen under the dim firelight, as if it were breathing.
Most striking were its eyes.
Eyes burning with blue fire.
They held no emotion belonging to a living soul, only contempt and hatred for all life.
A White Walker!
Not the slow, rotting, skeletal wights.
But the legendary masters of the Long Night!
A White Walker turned personally by the Night King from an infant!
"Seven Hells..."
A young ranger let out a despairing groan.
Fear spread through the ranks like a plague.
The sight before them was beyond their comprehension.
Despite their fear, everyone tightened their grip on their weapons. Not a single man wanted to retreat!
The White Walker ignored the humans' panic.
Holding an ice spear, it walked toward the camp with elegant, unhurried steps.
"Loose!"
Torren reacted first, shouting hoarsely.
Arrows trailed long tails of flame as they cut through the night sky toward the intruder.
However, something bizarre happened.
When the arrows were still several feet from the White Walker, the flames on their tips extinguished instantly.
The arrows struck its body without leaving even a scratch!
It completely ignored ordinary weapons!
And its magic could extinguish normal fire instantly!
The White Walker didn't pause for a moment.
It walked up to the traps.
It simply raised its hands casually.
A visible wave of cold swept out.
The cheval de frise and spike traps made of thick logs and sharp iron were instantly covered in thick ice.
Then, with a teeth-grinding crack, they shattered into ice dust.
The defensive line was as fragile as paper before it.
"For the Lord!!"
"For the North!!"
A bearded guard let out a beast-like roar. Raising his battle axe, he was the first to charge.
Courage overcame fear.
Facing the charging human, a look bordering on mockery seemed to appear on the leading White Walker's face.
It slowly raised its crystalline ice spear.
CLANG!
The bearded guard's axe smashed heavily against the ice spear.
No sparks flew.
The moment the fine steel axe touched the ice spear, ice-blue patterns rapidly spread across the blade.
A second later.
SHATTER!
The entire battle axe, along with the guard's arm holding it, exploded into countless ice crystals!
"Ahhhh—!"
A wretched scream finally broke the silence.
The White Walker thrust backhanded, impaling the guard's body.
It was brutal. Humans had absolutely no ability to contend with White Walkers. A single strike, and he was skewered by the ice spear.
Despair.
Their weapons, their courage—useless before this White Walker.
Lynn frowned.
Watching the show, he hadn't had a visceral sense of the White Walkers' power. He hadn't expected them to be this strong!
A battle-hardened Northern guard couldn't even withstand a single blow?
Just then.
More men prepared to charge the White Walker.
Lynn called them to a halt.
"You can't handle him."
"I'll do it."
Lynn knew that against wights, these men might stand a chance.
But against a White Walker, they would only be throwing their lives away.
He was the strongest among them; he had to act!
Lynn walked to the front of the formation.
The White Walker stopped moving, simply watching quietly as Lynn approached step by step.
Lynn handed the fur-wrapped dragon egg to Arya, who was trembling with fear beside him.
"Watch over it."
Lynn's voice was soft, but it carried an undeniable strength that miraculously soothed the girl's fear.
Arya nodded vigorously.
With her small body, she hugged the warm dragon egg tightly, as if it were the most precious treasure in the world.
Only after doing this did Lynn turn around.
Alone, he faced the White Walker, who approached slowly like the God of Death.
The White Walker's gaze shifted from the dragon egg back to Lynn.
"My Lord!"
Torren tried to stop him.
"You can't go!"
"Aye, my Lord! We'll cover your retreat!"
Jason shouted too.
He would rather die here than watch his commander go to his death.
Lynn didn't look back.
Alone, he faced the Reaper-like White Walker.
There was no fear on his face, no nervousness.
Shing—
Longclaw was slowly drawn.
The blade forged of Valyrian steel flowed with a dark red sheen in the freezing air.
A searing, ancient aura spread out.
The White Walker's steps halted for the first time.
Its eyes, burning with blue ghost-fire, landed on Longclaw in Lynn's hand.
For the first time, a flicker of emotion appeared in that gaze.
Disgust.
Lynn pointed Longclaw diagonally at the ground and curled his finger at the White Walker.