Chapter 46: Ruins Beneath the Withered Heart Tree
Beyond the Wall — Haunted Forest
"Whoosh… whoosh…"
Carried by the biting cold wind, the air was thick with the stench of rot and dried blood, making every man of the Night's Watch scouting party shudder involuntarily.
"Huff… huff…"
Amid this apocalyptic scene, the lean Grenn gripped his longsword tightly, the blade reflecting a cold sheen under the pale light of the snow.
His eyes were sharp and vigilant, locked onto the wight staggering toward him with stiff, dragging steps.
Though its movements were slow and heavy, an endless hatred for the warmth of life drove it forward without pause.
Grenn's heart hammered violently in his chest, each beat resounding in his ears like a war drum urging him into combat.
Fear crept up his spine like an icy serpent, but he forced himself to suppress that instinctive terror.
He knew all too well that once fear took hold, he would never defeat these monsters—no matter how many lifetimes he was given.
Grenn drew in a deep breath of frigid air, struggling to steady his thoughts. Every swing of his sword had to be precise. There was no room for hesitation.
Unbidden, memories of Castle Black surfaced in his mind—countless hours of sword drills, bruising sparring sessions, and shouted corrections etched deep into his bones.
Suddenly, the wight that had been shuffling forward moments earlier lunged straight at him.
Grenn reacted instantly. He sidestepped and swung his longsword in a clean, silver-white arc, severing the wight's neck in a single decisive strike.
Squch—
The blade sliced through decayed flesh with ease. Thick, blackened blood sprayed outward.
Reeking of rot, the headless corpse collapsed at Grenn's feet.
"Pant… pant…"
"Grrr… rrr…"
As the wight fell, three massive hounds rushed forward, tearing into the corpse and ripping it apart within seconds.
Grenn dropped to the ground, gasping for breath.
"Hahaha! Grenn, you're way too tense," a mocking voice rang out beside him. "Look at this—I've already chopped down several of these things. They only look frightening. Cut off their heads or limbs, and they're useless."
Grenn looked up sharply to see Pypar and Dolorous Edd Tollett standing nearby, their longswords dripping with foul black blood.
Not far away, more wights had already been dismembered by the hounds. After several encounters, both the men and the beasts had adapted to fighting these creatures.
Along the way, wight attacks came at regular intervals. While the hounds could work together to kill most of them, a few inevitably slipped through their defenses.
That was when Grenn and the others were forced to engage directly, with Jon commanding the hounds to support them from the flanks.
Because of his slight build, this was the first time Grenn had managed to kill a wight on his own. Pypar and the others, meanwhile, were already seasoned—dispatching wights without batting an eye.
Throughout their journey, they found many missing brothers of the Night's Watch. Sadly, none were alive.
They found only corpses… or worse—brothers who had already risen again as wights.
Since there was nothing like dog tags in this world, Jon ordered them to collect what remained of the fallen—cloaks, sigils, rings, and personal tokens—so no one could question their identities later.
Many rangers had once been knights or sons of noble houses in the Seven Kingdoms. Their family crests and possessions were proof enough.
Jon's purpose was simple: to prevent certain people at Castle Black from stirring trouble once they returned.
If circumstances allowed, Jon also intended to capture a living wight and bring it back. For that reason, he had prepared several heavy iron chains.
As long as they found a smaller wight, shattered its limbs, and gagged its mouth, he would have his irrefutable evidence.
But for now, Jon's true objective lay elsewhere.
Hidden deep within the Haunted Forest was a secret altar.
Even with his current strength, completing the so-called "Other Squad" mission was still too dangerous.
So Jon settled for the secondary objective—the destruction of an altar used by the Others to create their kind.
In fragments of memory from his previous life, Jon recalled an altar somewhere beneath a frozen lake. But since the system had guided him here, it clearly had its own design.
After confirming that everyone had recovered, Jon shook his head and walked toward a withered heart tree.
A massive hole had been violently blasted through the carved face of the heart tree, allowing him to see straight through to what lay beyond.
"Caw… caw…"
A large flock of ravens perched among the dead branches, cawing noisily as they watched Jon approach, showing no fear.
"Caw—!"
Flap, flap, flap—
As Jon drew closer, the ravens suddenly took flight as if sensing something dreadful, their wings filling the air like a storm of black snow.
"Whine…"
At Jon's signal, one of the hounds began scratching at a specific spot beneath the tree, clearly indicating something below.
Jon walked over and scratched the hound behind the ears in praise. Its tail wagged enthusiastically.
"Jon, did you find something?" Dolorous Edd asked as the rest of the scouting party gathered around.
"We're looking for the truth," Jon replied calmly. "Don't you want to know why these monsters keep appearing?"
Though most brothers of the Night's Watch had heard legends of the Others, those tales were little more than myths to them—even after encountering wights firsthand.
In their minds, such horrors were merely the result of some unknown sorcery.
If Jon openly claimed this was all tied to the Others, they would likely treat it as dark humor.
To the people of this world, wights were like ancient beasts from legend—unbelievable until seen with one's own eyes.
"Whine… whine…"
With the hounds confirming the area was safe, Jon finally acted.
The Others had sealed the entrance with ice, but under the strike of Longclaw, the three-meter-thick ice barrier shattered instantly.
"This place is worse than the sewers back in King's Landing," Dolorous Edd muttered as he stepped inside. "Seven save me—if I fall here, I won't be able to eat for days."
The passage was wide, but the ground was soft and muddy. Every step came with a nauseating, sticky sensation.
After more than ten minutes, the scouting party entered a vast cavern with no visible end.
Viscous liquid dripped constantly from the ceiling, soaking their cloaks and armor.
"Ugh… I'll never drink soup again," Edd groaned, gagging after sniffing the slime that had splashed onto him.
The hounds showed no reaction at all, faithfully executing Jon's commands despite the filth coating their bodies.
Because of the overpowering stench, even the hounds' senses were dulled—making the place all the more dangerous.
Guided by the system, Jon stepped into a spiral formation of jagged stone pillars.
Strange symbols were carved into them—spirals, lines, and unfamiliar markings whose meanings were impossible to decipher.
Jon had never studied such runes and could make no sense of them.
"Let's try this," he muttered.
Unsure how else to deal with the altar, Jon chose the simplest solution.
Thud—thud—BOOM!
Longclaw flashed repeatedly in his hand. Empowered by his terrifying strength, the man-tall stone pillars collapsed one after another.
Boom—whoosh—
As the final pillar fell, an invisible wave surged outward, engulfing Jon completely.
"High-grade soul energy detected. Absorbing…"
"Unknown module discovered…"
"External interference detected…"
"Descent module activation affected…"
Descent module? Jon frowned.
Why have I never seen this before? Is it a hidden function of the system?
During the synthesis of dragonglass, the system had mentioned Descent Mode—but he had never been able to access it.
Over time, he had forgotten about it entirely.
And yet now, it had reappeared.
An inexplicable sense of unease rose in Jon's heart.
He instinctively felt that this "Descent module" was something aimed directly at him—a mechanism, or perhaps a power, far more dangerous than he had anticipated.
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