Chapter 47: The Others Attack
Beyond the Wall — Haunted Forest — Underground Ruins
"Rumble…"
As the stone pillar collapsed, the entire underground cavern shook violently, as though some sustaining force had suddenly vanished. The members of the Night's Watch scouting party were thrown into panic by the sudden upheaval.
"Jon! I don't care which god you believe in or what it wants you to do, but you'd better hurry up!" Dolorous Edd Tollett shouted loudly. "Otherwise, we're all going to be buried here together!"
Edd's instincts screamed danger. Jon's current state—standing there dazed and unresponsive—made his anxiety spike even further.
Fortunately, the tremors soon subsided.
Yet even as the shaking stopped, an invisible ripple spread outward, like waves across still water.
At the same moment, in a distant wildling village—
A blue-and-white-faced figure paused mid-slaughter.
Behind the Other, countless wights stood motionless, like frozen statues. Fresh blood still dripped from many of their bodies, proof that they had only just been created.
The Other slowly turned its head, gazing in the direction of Jon and the Haunted Forest.
The remaining wildling women and children trembled nearby.
The Other, which had been savoring the carnage, suddenly lowered the massive ice spear in its hand.
"Crack… crack…"
With the sound of ice grinding against ice, the wights stirred.
Blue light flared fiercely within their empty eye sockets as the Other emitted a sharp, alien cry.
"Clop… clop…"
A skeletal horse burst from the forest, its hooves barely making a sound on the snow. The Other mounted it with eerie grace.
Raising its ice spear, it pointed forward.
The wights surged into motion.
"What… what's happening?" a surviving wildling spearwife muttered hysterically. "Are… are the White Walkers leaving us alone?"
"Quickly—move," an elderly woman urged in a trembling voice. "We must find Mother Mole. These White Walkers grow bolder with each passing day. May the old gods protect us… may we live through this."
Faced with such horror, the only comfort left to the wildlings was to cling together and flee, though none truly believed salvation awaited them.
Beyond the Wall, this was merely a fleeting interlude in an unfolding apocalypse.
Before beings as unfathomable as the Others, the wildlings were helpless—like the protagonists of an ancient horror tale, wielding sticks and knives against something that could not be killed.
"Ah… we finally made it out."
Beneath a massive withered heart tree, a mud-caked figure crawled up from the ground. He scooped up a handful of snow and wiped his face roughly before exhaling in relief.
One by one, the others followed—then the Mo Sha Hounds.
Jon Snow emerged last. Like the others, he brushed snow across his face, clearing away the filth.
"We can leave now, right?" Dolorous Edd asked after straightening himself. "Jon, your business down there should be finished."
Though the cave itself hadn't collapsed, thick sludge had flooded the entrance. The group had been forced to wade through mud nearly up to their calves.
By the time they emerged, they looked more like swamp creatures than men of the Night's Watch.
"I'm afraid not," Jon replied calmly. "Because it seems we already have friends waiting for us."
At the low growls of the Mo Sha Hounds, Jon drew Longclaw from his waist.
"Grrr…"
The hounds followed suit, issuing deep, threatening snarls—the sound they made only when facing a genuine threat.
"Rustle… rustle…"
Thorny branches shook violently as several dark figures burst from the undergrowth, bounding straight toward Jon.
"Hiss—"
"Descending Creature detected: Ice Spider (Level 3).
Affiliation: Singular lifeform — 'Great Other.'
Equipment: None."
"Awoooo—!"
At the system's mechanical voice, the Mo Sha Hounds howled and charged.
Jon finally saw the creatures clearly.
They were enormous spiders, each as large as a horse. Crystal-like legs supported their bodies, ending in razor-sharp claws. Their massive mandibles and glowing blue compound eyes burned like ghostly flames in the darkness.
Each strike of their frozen limbs punched deep holes into the ground whenever the hounds narrowly evaded them.
Though terrifying in appearance, the Ice Spiders were unable to land decisive blows.
The Mo Sha Hounds relied on speed and agility, constantly harassing their foes. The spiders' height worked against them—their joints and heads were fully exposed.
Ordinary steel weapons would have shattered against their frozen bodies.
But the Mo Sha Hounds were anything but ordinary.
Empowered by blood magic, their fangs carried a faint heat. Though they couldn't immediately pierce the spiders' defenses, they were patient hunters, inheritors of a wolf's relentless endurance.
"Hiss—!"
One Ice Spider lost its balance under the sustained assault. Jon seized the opening.
Longclaw flashed.
The Valyrian steel blade pierced straight through the creature's head.
The Ice Spider collapsed, shrieking as it writhed. Its remaining limb clawed uselessly at the wound, as though something within was eating it away.
"Sizzle—"
Like red-hot iron plunged into water, the Ice Spider melted into a pool of viscous white sludge.
"This thing… doesn't seem so frightening," Pypar said, drawing his sword eagerly. "Let us help—"
"Grrr!"
A Mo Sha Hound darted in front of him, baring its teeth.
"Don't," Jon said without looking back as he struck down another Ice Spider. "These aren't wights. Your weapons won't harm them. I'll give you proper weapons later."
With Jon's help, another spider fell.
The brothers of the Night's Watch felt their blood surge. What they had witnessed today shattered everything they thought they knew about the world.
Men who once held little faith now found themselves grasping at something greater, inspired by the miracles unfolding before them.
"Hiss—hiss—!"
As the final Ice Spider screeched and collapsed, the clearing finally fell silent.
These creatures had never existed in Jon's memories of the original story.
Combined with the earlier system prompts, Jon was certain—this was the result of Descent Mode.
The ruins beneath the heart tree had yielded nearly ten thousand Soul Energy points.
Enough to change everything.
After ordering the Mo Sha Hounds to disperse, Jon walked toward the others.
"My brothers of the Night's Watch," he said solemnly. "Thank you for trusting me. I have destroyed the designs of an evil god—and in return, I have been granted even greater power."
Exhausted and filthy though they were, the brothers felt warmth stir in their hearts.
They could have turned back long ago. Yet they had stayed—for Jon.
"You have your faith," said Todder, his hoarse voice tinged with sincerity, "and we have our vows, Jon."
Jon nodded.
"Then I'll be brief. The power I've gained—I can share it. You all know what I used to be like. This is a power that can transform a man."
Gulp.
Jon clearly heard several throats swallow.
"By the Seven…" Dolorous Edd muttered. "Jon… you're not joking, are you?"
"Do… do we need to believe in some god?" Grenn asked hesitantly.
"Can I become as strong as you?" Pypar asked, eyes blazing.
"And we don't have to give anything up… do we?" Todder added cautiously.
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