You could hear a pin drop in the tent.
Only the crackling of firewood in the brazier and Tormund's pained gasps from the floor remained.
All the wildlings, including the "King" who sat motionless, looked at Lynn as if he were a monster.
They had imagined many possibilities.
They thought Lynn would refuse, be goaded by Tormund into fighting, and then be beaten to death by Tormund's fists.
But they had never imagined this scene.
One punch.
Just one punch.
Tormund, who was like a god of war in their hearts, was tossed aside by this Southerner like a ragged sack.
This wasn't strength a human should possess!
Jon Snow's palm on his sword hilt was slick with cold sweat. Looking at Lynn's back, his Adam's apple bobbed involuntarily.
And Ygritte, her grey eyes were filled with a light mixing shock, fervor, and obsession.
Every time, Lynn overturned her understanding. Every time, he brought surprises that made her soul tremble.
"Kill him!"
A hoarse roar broke the suffocating dead silence.
It was the Rattleshirt, the "Lord of Bones," the fake "King" sitting at the head of the table.
The armor made of countless bones clattered as he moved.
He stood up abruptly, drawing a battle axe made from the leg bone of an unknown giant beast.
"Everyone together! Kill him!"
His roar was a command, instantly igniting the ferocity of the other wildling chieftains in the tent.
They were Free Folk, the most unruly warriors beyond the Wall.
Fear only made them crazier!
"Roar—!"
A bald Thenn chieftain closest to Lynn roared, swinging a massive stone hammer aimed straight at the back of Lynn's head!
Several other chieftains also drew their weapons, attacking from all sides!
They didn't believe this Southerner could block attacks from all of them!
"Lynn!"
Jon cried out in alarm, drawing his longsword, ready to help.
"Don't move."
"I can handle this alone."
Lynn didn't even turn his head.
An extreme chill exploded outwards with Lynn at the center!
The temperature inside the tent plummeted!
The flames in the brazier shrank violently, their light dimming.
Countless tiny ice crystals condensed in the air like dancing specters.
Crack—crack—
A layer of crystal-clear frost spread from beneath Lynn's feet at a speed visible to the naked eye, rapidly covering his entire body!
First his boots, then his calves, chest, arms...
Finally, a menacing frost visor covered his face, revealing only a pair of black eyes!
A suit of full plate armor, seemingly carved from ten-thousand-year-old ice, appeared out of thin air!
On the armor, countless ancient and mysterious runes flickered, emitting a heart-palpitating ghostly blue light.
The moment the wind-wrapped stone hammer was about to smash Lynn's skull.
The pupils of the bald Thenn chieftain were filled with confusion and shock!
He could feel a terrifying chill radiating from that armor, enough to freeze the soul.
His blood felt as if it were freezing!
Bang!
Lynn gave him no more time to think. With a backhand elbow strike, he hit the man squarely in the chest.
The bald giant groaned, flying backward and crashing to the ground, instantly incapacitated.
Immediately following.
Lynn made grasping motions with both hands.
Two massive greatswords, taller than a man with broad blades, also formed of ice crystals, condensed in his hands!
"Now, it's my turn."
The voice came from beneath the cold visor.
Lynn moved.
Wielding dual swords, he actively charged at the few dumbfounded wildling chieftains!
Clang!
A wildling chieftain instinctively raised his iron axe to block.
However, the axe, capable of splitting shields, shattered like fragile glass the moment it touched the frost greatsword!
The crisp shattering sound was piercing in the deadly silent tent!
The chieftain stared blankly at the half-handle remaining in his hand, his mind empty.
Even if his weapon was poor quality, how could it shatter inch by inch just from a touch?
Lynn gave him no chance. Turning the blade, he slapped the flat of the broadsword hard against the man's face.
"Next."
Lynn's figure weaved through the crowd like a tiger among sheep.
Every swing of the dual swords brought a wave of icy chill and the crisp sound of shattering weapons.
Clang! Crack! Bang!
Bone spears, stone axes, iron swords...
These lethal weapons in the hands of wildlings were as fragile as children's toys before Lynn's frost greatswords.
A light touch was all it took to disintegrate their weapons into countless fragments!
One wildling chieftain after another was slapped to the ground by the flat of his blades, losing the ability to resist.
Lynn didn't kill them.
He didn't want corpses; he wanted submission!
This fight was never on a level playing field from the start.
The Lord of Bones watched this scene, the madness on his face long replaced by endless terror.
Lynn slowly turned, his black eyes locking onto this final "King."
"Your turn."
The Lord of Bones let out a desperate roar.
He raised his massive bone axe, using all his strength to chop down at Lynn!
Lynn didn't dodge, nor did he block.
He simply let the bone axe smash viciously onto his chest plate.
Crack—!
A sound crispier than any before rang out.
The battle axe made from a giant beast's leg bone snapped directly in the middle.
And on Lynn's frost chest plate, not even a white mark remained.
The Lord of Bones broke down completely.
He threw away the broken handle, losing all will to fight.
How could he fight this? They weren't even on the same level.
The battle was over.
In the entire tent, apart from Lynn, Jon, and Ygritte, no one was left standing.
The frost greatswords in Lynn's hands slowly dissipated, turning into motes of blue light that merged into the air.
The frost armor on his body peeled off piece by piece like melting snow, finally disappearing completely.
As if the crushing battle just now was merely an illusion.
"Ugh..."
A painful groan came from the corner of the tent.
Tormund rubbed his agonizingly painful chest and staggered to a sitting position.
He looked blankly at the companions lying all over the floor, wailing over broken limbs, then at Lynn standing in the center, unharmed.
Finally, his gaze landed on the Lord of Bones, who was slumped on the ground, terrified out of his wits.
"Fuck..."
The expression on Tormund's broad face was incredibly vivid.
He finally understood what had happened.
This pretty boy from the South had single-handedly taken down all their tribal chieftains!
He spat out bloody saliva, staggered to his feet, and walked up to Lynn.
Tormund stared dead at Lynn, his chest heaving violently.
The atmosphere in the tent grew tense again.
Everyone thought this unyielding Giantsbane was going to charge again.
However.
Tormund did something unexpected.
He bent down, picked up the giant horn cup he had thrown earlier, walked to the ale barrel, and filled it to the brim.
Then, he walked back to Lynn and offered the horn cup.
He grinned, revealing yellow teeth, his smile tinged with a bit of awkwardness.
"You won."
Though he lost, he was full of the purest honor of a Free Folk.
"From today on, I, Tormund, follow you."
"If you tell me to go poke a giant's ass, I won't fucking frown!"
This scene left the few wildling chieftains struggling to get up dumbfounded.
Mance Rayder, who had been silent and observed everything, finally stood up.
With surprise on his face, he walked slowly to Lynn and extended his hand.
"You have proven your strength."
"The Free Folk follow the strong."
"Now, tell me, Lynn..."
Mance Rayder looked into Lynn's eyes, asking word by word.
"How do we deal with those crows on the Wall?"
"Can you really convince them to open the gates for us?"