277 AC, a terrible year in the history of Westeros.
The winter should have ended in 276 AC, but due to the revival of the wights, winter continued. This was the magic of the god of cold, the power of the god of cold!
Winter continued, with no sign of dissipating.
"The throne! The throne has come to life!" the watchmen of Farwinter shouted.
Amidst the howling snow, the massive ice throne stood majestically in the Haunted Forest. Since the Winter Wolf unit's attack had little effect, the watchmen could only watch the blue profound ice throne to the north with worry.
Upon the massive ice throne, the formation arranged by the Others still remained, with a faint blue light glowing.
Flames floated on the ice throne, and gradually, the bodies of the nearby Others began to shatter. The blue fire of their lives also merged into this ball of flame. The flame disappeared, and their bodies made of profound ice dissipated.
As the blue flames condensed, the form of a tall Other gradually took shape, with a powerful and robust body. Its eyes glowed with blue light, and in its hand was a bright, transparent glass-like sword, adorned with various shimmering runes.
The Other sat on the profound ice throne, then raised its longsword. The profound ice throne automatically moved forward, and heavy snow fell, as if to extinguish all flames in the human world... In Harrenhal, Rhaegar heard the roar of the dragon group.
This was the warning of the magic dragons; it seemed what was destined to come would indeed come.
The magic dragons looked north, letting out roars that shook the mountains above the camp.
The new camp at Gods Eye Lake was startled. Soldiers all looked up, gazing at the unusually agitated magic dragons. The dragons' roars, never before so repetitive and furious, echoed through the air.
If even the magic dragons could sense the arrival of extreme winter weather, then this situation most likely meant the Night King had revived.
The Harrenhal camp had become a very large-scale place, like a new city, with military camps, logistics, heavy supplies, and so on.
If it were to be considered well-connected, Harrenhal would certainly qualify.
The soldiers had already understood the meaning of winter and war. They orderly went to the front lines, then returned to Harrenhal for rest and recuperation after providing support. Prince Rhaegar and Princess Roberta were with them. The Prince trained the soldiers to overcome fear. Princess Roberta helped illiterate soldiers write letters and introduced suitable marriages for the children of the lords.
Fear is a warrior's great enemy. When these warriors gained experience facing wights, their fear could be greatly overcome.
Rhaegar would occasionally ride a giant dragon to try and destroy the ice throne, but the throne was difficult to completely destroy. Only parts of it could be worn away, and then the ice throne would slowly begin to recover. The Others even used their own flames to resist and revive the Night King.
The magic of the god of cold endured, and the ice throne could not be completely annihilated. Therefore, the Night King was still awakening, albeit slowly, but the process was unchanged.
Rhaegar no longer felt comfortable letting the Northmen die in vain. He had armed Farwinter to the teeth, only able to employ flexible defense.
Rhaegar and Roberta put on their armor together and flew north.
The Silver Emperor shrieked, with Balerion and Balerion close behind.
"This might be the final war. I hope our children can see the dawn of peace and summer!" Rhaegar said.
"They certainly will!" Roberta nodded.
"Kill!" Rhaegar placed the Princess above the Wall, then rode the Silver Emperor into the charge.
Black-haired Roberta watched her beloved's departing figure. War was the melody of the entire era, peace.
"Long live House Targaryen!"
"Triumphant Prince!"
"Triumphant Prince!" The wildlings and Night's Watch of Farwinter heard the roar of the dragon group. They all saw the figure riding a magic dragon.
Friend of wildlings and Night's Watch, Triumphant Prince, True Dragon Rhaegar.
Rhaegar circled above Farwinter. The ice throne below was only about three to four hundred meters away from Farwinter!
The wights were overwhelming, perfectly suited for movement in the roaring snowstorm. In the rear, in the ice throne area, maintaining the formation, were the even more terrifying Others. Their skin was as pale as the moon, and their eyes like blue stars. They were cold Others, hating all life.
Rhaegar, now six feet six inches tall, appeared like a towering giant among the crowd. Especially as he wore a True Dragon helmet, a purple robe, and carried a True Dragon longsword, he truly resembled the resurrected Dragon God of legend.
"Dragonflame!" Rhaegar shouted, and golden-silver dragonflame spewed from the Silver Emperor's mouth, like a bright sun, aimed at the person sitting on the ice throne.
"Roar!" The Other seated on the ice throne also stood up. He extended his cold hand, and all coldness automatically condensed into frost, forming a shield-like shape by his hand.
"Shield!" Rhaegar saw the flow of the Shield Rune, but the flame of this shield was dead fire, the terrifying roar of the god of cold's magic.
The King of the Others raised his hands, and the blue profound ice-like shield blocked the vast flames. The ice melted layer by layer, and the flames also slowly dissipated!
"Rhaegar Targaryen! Child of Fire!" the King of the Others shouted, and mist drifted above the ice throne.
Rhaegar clearly saw that face. "Ah!" Rhaegar was startled. This face somewhat resembled a certain family, the appearance of House Stark: long face, tall stature, only the eyes were blue profound ice.
"Are you from House Stark?" Rhaegar asked.
"No, what you said is incorrect. I am a child of the god of cold. I possess many bloodlines: House Stark, House Peake, House Hoare. I can transform into any face you desire. As for House Stark, because they have resisted the god of cold the longest, I also have the most Stark blood," the Night King said, his voice like profound ice, sharp and terrifying, making people uneasy.
This was an ability all Others possessed. But Rhaegar had runes; the Shield Rune helped him.
As if to prevent Rhaegar from disbelieving, the Night King's face began to change: a Stark face, a Blackwood Hoare face, a House Hightower face, a Bolton face. The Night's Watch had existed for too long, and the god of cold had collected many bloodlines.
"Alas, I once wanted to obtain a House Targaryen face, but that child refused me; he also has his own god," the Night King sighed, likely referring to Bloodraven.
"All things grow from fire, all things are destroyed by ice! You and I are destined for a battle!" The Night King raised the profound ice longsword in his hand, its light piercingly cold.
"Then we have no choice but to do so!" Rhaegar raised the True Dragon longsword in his hand. Who would win remained unknown.
This was the first time he felt a vague and terrifying threat.
"Actually, we don't necessarily have to be so bloody! My noble bloodlines are so numerous; I am equally elegant and rational. Wights cannot speak, but Others are living beings. We gained the life of the god of cold, at the cost of hatred for flesh and fire!" the Night King revealed his secret.
"I will give you a chance: withdraw your troops! I will no longer invade the North. I will randomly choose a city to attack!" the Night King said. "The magic of the god of cold can freeze the sea; I can cross the sea!"
"Then you'll go to Braavos?" Rhaegar looked at the Night King, making a joke.
"That's not a good joke. I still prefer Westeros; it has the most heroic blood!"
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