[Chapter Size: 3600 Words.]

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Third Person POV

Arctic, 298 AC.

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“ARCTIC, WHAT ARE WE?” Jon’s voice exploded from atop Ghost’s back.

“WE ARE NORTHERNERS!!” 80 thousand men shouted, striking the side of their swords against their arctican shields.

“ARCTIC, WHAT ARE WE?” Jon roared again with magic.

“WE ARE DESCENDANTS OF THE FIRST MEN!!” The response came quickly.

“ARCTIC, WHAT ARE WE?” Jon repeated loudly.

“WE ARE THE MOST POWERFUL PEOPLE!!” They answered.

“ARCTIC, WHAT DO WE FEAR?” Jon asked.

“WE FEAR NOTHING, EXCEPT THE WRATH OF OUR GODS!!” They replied.

“ARCTIC, WHAT STANDS BEFORE US, THEY ARE THE WHITE WALKERS, WHAT SHALL WE DO TO THEM?” Jon asked.

“WE WILL NOT RUN! WE WILL KILL THEM, WE WILL EXTERMINATE THEM, THEY WILL FEAR US AND LEARN THAT TO MESS WITH ARCTIC WOULD BE THEIR WORST MISTAKE!!” Arctic’s soldiers roared the name of the Kingdom with furious determination.

Jon waited for the sound of the soldiers to finally calm down, even as it still echoed across the area due to so many men shouting, and the echo of shields clashing, also heard as a great synchronized sound, reaching even into the fog.

Jon waited a moment before turning his gaze to one of the Arctican men. “Begin with the drums.” He said, and the soldier nodded in confirmation.

He turned his horse and began to return, leaving the king and the giant wolf behind.

“Drums! Start playing the Drums!” He shouted as he rode at high speed behind the army.

“Start playing the Drums!” The voice reached a group of Arcticans that were not with the main army, but all of them wore armor and had bloodstains and feathers, indicating they had been in the previous battle.

As soon as they heard the Arctican man, they began to prepare, and around them were massive musical instruments, such as drums and other musical instruments.

“Let’s begin this, then.” One of the many giants among the groups replied, and due to the size of the drums, it was very understandable that giants were required for them.

Giants, dwarves, and humans positioned themselves before the instruments; they would help the army’s morale before the attack began.

[The sound of the drums is ‘Audiomachine – Earthshaker.’ You can find it on YouTube.]

BOOM… BOOM… One giant began to strike the drum slowly.

BOOM… BOOM…

BOOM. BOOM.

BOOM. BOOM.

CRASH!!! shhhhhhhhhh~~~~~ A dwarf struck the cymbal.

TUM. TUM. TUM. TUM. TUM. TUM. TUM. TUM. TUM. TUM. TUM. TUM. TUM… Soon the music began to gain strength, quickly echoing throughout the entire place as the rhythmic sound continued with full force.

At this moment, Arctic heard only one sound, while its tree continued burning brightly in the center of the kingdom.

“Did you make that sound?” Arya asked Jon, the sound was quite sinister, though motivating. If they were in front of some southern army, they would tremble with fear upon hearing such a thing.

“We made it while you were in the south. Although I helped, I didn’t do it alone, and it turned out very good.” Jon said in a calm tone, without even turning his head. He simply allowed the music to echo through everyone there, while his eyes were entirely fixed on the storm.

Benjen looked between the music that did not seem to have an end. When they finished the rhythm, they would start repeating everything again, and it seemed like it would continue that way for the next half hour until the storm reached the walls.

His eyes went to Jon before turning back forward when he noticed someone approaching.

It was Qhorin Halfhand of the Night’s Watch. He had been a prisoner of Arctic before Jon negotiated with Jeor Mormont. There were other members of the Watch there, approaching Benjen. Meanwhile, the royal guards kept their eyes on them, not allowing them to get near the king on top of his monstrous direwolf.

“Are you ready for what’s coming, First Ranger?” Qhorin asked Benjen.

“If this is not the meaning of our sacred vows at that heart tree when we joined the Watch, then I no longer know what they meant. ‘To protect the realms of men.'” Benjen answered Qhorin.

“Yeah… those damned things that flew at us before, damn it, that couldn’t have been more terrifying. I got my arm cut and thought I was going to die when I was knocked down while surrounded.” Qhorin said. He and the other rangers wore Eldenmetal armor, given by the Arcticans if they truly wished to fight.

Benjen wore Valyrian steel armor, crafted by Jon after taking his measurements. It was the same style Jon had made for Lord Stark, but this one of Eldenmetal nearly ten years ago.

[Nordic Sculpted Armor]

“I still can’t believe we’re here after everything, fighting alongside the men we swore to kill, against monsters no less.” Another man of the Watch spoke.

“That’s true…” Another said with a laugh, while his eyes drifted to the back of the crowd of soldiers. Since they were rangers, they were not tied to the army formation. Because of that, they remained outside as a separate group.

The rhythmic drumming with the sinister sound continued nonstop in the background. “However… here we are, while our sworn brothers must be sitting in front of a fireplace in the great hall of Castle Black…” The ranger continued laughing purely at the irony of his words.

A fourth one laughed as he approached the group. “You know… when I chose black after stealing from Lord Urong of one of the Storm’s End regions, I never imagined I’d be wearing armor better than any knight I ever saw in the south. And mind you, I used to attend tournaments and earned some coins selling some things or stealing silver coins.” The fourth ranger said.

“That’s true.” The third laughed. “And look at Benjen Stark, he’s wearing armor worth more than most of the castles in Westeros!”

“…” Benjen said nothing, a bit embarrassed. He was just as surprised as they were to have such wealth protecting his body. It was hard to believe that one day he would be in that position, his nephew a king, and more than seven years ago, when he revealed he would become a king beyond the Wall, Benjen had been skeptical about it… and look where it had led them.

In another part of the kingdom, Rick Hightower was looking out through a barred window with some men.

“Did you see… the tree is burning!” Someone exclaimed, looking at the leaves shining in red, but the brother of Lord Hightower could not say it was burning. It looked like it was casting a light over everyone rather than simply being on fire.

He did not know all the details, but he knew Arctic was preparing to fight the army of the dead. Long ago, he had destroyed his own arrogance over the years he spent as a prisoner. In fact, he was no longer even surprised by the things that happened in this kingdom.

The indescribable things that, if he had a way to tell his brother, his brother would laugh in his face—while being worried at the same time. After all, ever since he was captured, he knew the relationship between Arctic and Westeros would never be good again.

He did not know what had happened in the last almost four years, and he always asked the Arctican men how the outside world was. The king had traveled for almost two years after he was captured, and when he returned, he left for a war in the Dothraki desert. He also learned, through guards speaking, that the king fought a dragon hidden on an island in the northern kingdom, which indicated it was Skagos, and when he saw the beast flying, he immediately knew which dragon it was.

The Hightower family had always been cautious with the Targaryen family since the Dance, and even though the Targaryens lost power in Westeros and were nearly completely wiped out, the Hightowers still continued studying dragons. No one altered the education of the children of the High Tower in the last almost twenty years.

And it was easy to identify the dragon called Cannibal, having studied that alongside his brothers. He had been surprised from the moment he saw the dragons when he arrived in the kingdom—first seeing that white dragon flying over the city when it was younger and smaller, and later, when the king’s two wives gave birth to his children, dragons were born from the eggs the king of Arctic had taken when sacking the Citadel.

He wanted to escape from there, to warn about the monsters growing in this kingdom. In the beginning, there was not such a large army, but over the years, he saw it growing, more and more. Rick Hightower watched Arctic become stronger and stronger, the city never stopped growing.

When the king returned from his journey, with the guards speaking about the travel through all of Essos, the kingdom had exploded ever since. He brought a princess with an alliance from Yi-Ti, brought Valyrian steel, the knowledge of how to forge it, he conquered even more wildlings beyond the walls, brought Dothraki and former slaves from outside the kingdom. Suddenly, Arctic’s army, which should have had between 30 to 50 thousand men—large for a common kingdom of Westeros, but never comparable to the Reach—became a force of roughly 150 thousand.

He was perceptive. Even as a prisoner, he was always watching his surroundings and listening to the guards’ conversations. The dwarves liked to talk about everything, and they gave away a lot of information. Things became a bit more difficult after that incident when the prisoners took some drunk dwarves as hostages. They were threatened by the king, who said they would be devoured by giant wolves. They had no choice but to surrender.

And even though the Arcticans kept them more isolated afterward, he was always watching the kingdom. Today, this kingdom had 150 thousand men, among them giants worth at least 10 to 20 men each. Who could face such beings? They would devastate any battlefield, as he had heard about their performance in the Dothraki sea. And they had dragons! Many of them! Westeros would be consumed by the flames of these creatures.

Not even House Targaryen in its prime had such power…

He had to somehow warn his brother about the danger that Arctic represented, that it was a mistake to have made them enemies.

The war against the dead was something he had heard about for years. The kingdom had always been preparing for it, and now it was happening, with countless things he would have considered madness before this day… Zombie birds, dragons burning them across the kingdom while the sky flickered with light. The giant tree of the Old Gods, so massive and majestic that he had begun to doubt the Seven, was now emitting light over the entire realm in the middle of that darkness. He had never seen anything like this—day lasting only three hours… what kind of madness was happening here?

Now the sound of drums was coming from the north of the kingdom. This was how Arctic prepared for what was about to happen, with his cellmates witnessing everything through the bars of their cell windows.

Rick doubted they would lose. Everything seemed under control, but he felt concern that once the dead were finally defeated, who would next draw Arctic’s attention before this damned kingdom looked south?

He desperately hoped the Arcticans would not start a war against his house and the other kingdoms, but it would be impossible after everything that had happened, and things had only worsened according to some comments.

He didn’t know how much Arctic would lose in this war, but it would clearly emerge with the power to destroy all the Seven Kingdoms.

While Rick was internally debating the future of his house in the south, the minutes continued to pass, and the beat of the drums echoed while everyone waited for the enemy to approach.

“Jon… Are you going to let the fog reach us? The storm will destroy us…” Val said as he watched the sound of the drums with Jon making no other movement; all 80 thousand men had been standing there for hours, making no move. Few were Mance’s, and Val had to admit they were quite impressive at getting used to moving and standing still as they had entered the army. Everyone stared ahead, facing the fog.

“You don’t need to worry about that, Val. Leaf said the gods will not let the storm enter the kingdom; besides… We have to wait a bit, the true army of the dead is in the middle of the storm, not at the edge. I want to inflict the greatest possible damage there.” Jon said atop Ghost.

“Jon is always right, if that helps your worries…” Val looked at Seryna with the warhammer on her shoulder.

Val only nodded; against that, she could not argue. Jon had never proven himself wrong in any decision he had made during all the time she had been here. Even if it had been only a few moons.

So everyone just focused ahead of him while they waited for the enemy to approach; the fog continued advancing toward the city until it reached the boundary.

Jon had to admit that everyone around him was nervous as the fog was about to hit the gate and pass over it like a giant wave ready to consume them.

The beating of the drums continued and Jon needed to keep his men steady.

“ARCTIC, WHAT ARE WE?” He spoke again over the sound of drums in the background.

“WE ARE NORTHMEN!!”

“ARCTIC, WHAT ARE WE?”

“WE ARE DESCENDANTS OF THE FIRST MEN!!”

“ARCTIC, WHAT ARE WE?”

“WE ARE THE MOST POWERFUL PEOPLE!!”

“ARCTIC, WHAT DO WE FEAR?”

“WE FEAR NOTHING, EXCEPT THE WRATH OF OUR GODS!!”

“ARCTIC, WHAT STANDS BEFORE US, THEY ARE THE WHITE WALKERS, WHAT SHALL WE DO TO THEM?”

“WE WILL NOT RUN! WE WILL KILL THEM, WE WILL EXTERMINATE THEM, THEY WILL FEAR US AND LEARN THAT MESSING WITH ARCTIC WOULD BE THEIR WORST MISTAKE!!”

He heard the shouts as he drew his sword.

“ARCTIC, WHAT ARE WE?”

“WE ARE NORTHMEN!!”

“ARCTIC, WHAT ARE WE?”

“WE ARE DESCENDANTS OF THE FIRST MEN!!”

“ARCTIC, WHAT ARE WE?”

“WE ARE THE MOST POWERFUL PEOPLE!!”

“ARCTIC, WHAT DO WE FEAR?”

“WE FEAR NOTHING, EXCEPT THE WRATH OF OUR GODS!!”

“ARCTIC, WHAT STANDS BEFORE US, THEY ARE THE WHITE WALKERS, WHAT SHALL WE DO TO THEM?”

“WE WILL NOT RUN! WE WILL KILL THEM, WE WILL EXTERMINATE THEM, THEY WILL FEAR US AND LEARN THAT MESSING WITH ARCTIC WOULD BE THEIR WORST MISTAKE!!”

Another sequence of the army’s shouts continued. Jon felt his throat grow a little tired, but it was necessary.

“ATTENTION!! PREPARE THE HARPOONS. IT’S TIME WE END THE DEAD ONCE AND FOR ALL!” Jon exclaimed, his voice reaching the giants preparing to launch the machines with harpoons filled with wildfire oil; they would travel for miles, being the most powerful launching machines in Arctic.

The fog reached the gates at that moment.

But for all who expected it to pass over, they were mistaken as the storm slammed against an invisible wall above the wall, spreading to the side.

“Look!! The old gods favor us! They are watching over us even here, in the mortal world!!” Jon raised his sword as the men echoed.

The violent beating of the drums continued.

“Wait for my signal!” He commanded with another shout of magic, while the giants were already in the correct positions at each of the pits the men had opened earlier with the hatches.

While everyone anxiously awaited the moment, Jon was certain he would catch the White Walkers by surprise; they could not know exactly what wildfire was and its power, so he was confident that, even without visibility with the snowstorm surrounding them, they would be arrogant to keep the entire army of the dead together to destroy Arctic.

And inside the very storm, hundreds of thousands of living dead walked with blue eyes; as they kept their gaze forward, a group of them began to fall into one of the pits with little they could do, for they were all crowded and pushed forward.

A White Walker noticed this and went to see what was happening, arriving where the hatch was open and looking at the mile of undead piled there after one fell on top of another. He dismounted from his horse and commanded the rest to go around, avoiding falling in.

The White Walker jumped into the place while the snowstorm did not rage there, but the snow carried by it filled the whole area.

He ignored the dead and followed that strange structure; even in all the darkness, he could easily see what was in front of him as he analyzed the area — that had been built on purpose by the living.

And something caught his attention when he saw barrels of a blue liquid; he approached while taking a few drops out of curiosity as they were oozing from the barrels after corroding the wood a bit.

He came close to the liquid and smelled it, but he could not say what it was with his curious bright blue eyes.

And without knowing it, he was about to be in the middle of the destruction of the army he commanded along with the others and their leader. For in Arctic, Jon had finally made his decision.

“Prepare!” He said as the men lit the fuses of the containers with wildfire.

“Fire!!! Shoot!!” Jon gave the order.

Quickly, the sound of sonic explosions occurred from the machines behind the army, while five harpoons with wildfire flew into the storm.

The flame on the fuse of some were extinguished as they traveled through the fog amid all that snow, beginning to descend after traveling a certain distance in the sky.

Four harpoons went out while a fifth continued to descend, falling through the snow until it found a pit and struck a group of the living dead, burying itself on top of them.

The White Walker who was still looking at the blue liquid was surprised as he looked down into the pit, seeing a huge black bolt lodged in the bodies of the White Walkers.

He approached, seeing the fire reaching the cylinder that contained more blue liquid. His glowing eyes stayed frozen there until the fire touched the liquid.

Then the darkness was thrown back by sudden light. The only thing that White Walker managed to reflect through his blue eyes was the green light bursting toward him.

His body was immediately consumed by the green flames, along with the other White Walkers, and everything around the hatch lifted due to the force of the explosion. And because it happened beneath the ground, the very earth began to rise upward.

But what came next could not be compared to the first explosion, because as soon as the wildfire touched the barrels with more blue liquid, a chain of explosions erupted in the middle of the place where the dead were advancing.

The tunnels under the ground began to explode, sending a series of detonations as more and more barrels went off.

In the end, the ground began to rise beneath the army of the dead and the explosion continued, lifting upward with blue flames.

A flash was bright enough to even outshine the glowing tree.

Jon and the entire Arctican army had to shield their eyes when the light came first, seeming to tear apart the entire snowstorm. The flash was so great that all the North beyond the Wall saw the light rising from Arctic like a ‘nuclear’ explosion. The rangers atop the Wall looked at the light as if the sun had suddenly appeared in the far North, stunned and terrified, shouting in fear at the sight.

The light was only the first part, because then came the sound, overwhelming every drum played by the giants, before the shockwave reached them and the ground shook.

All of ARCTIC trembled like an earthquake never felt before. Men fell to the ground off balance, animals panicked, the very shelters shook with people screaming inside.

Even the royal family in the stronghold beneath the castle felt everything shake, as though the entire structure were about to collapse, dust falling from the ceiling.

Jon didn’t know what was worse, his ears simply exploding with the sound of the blast as a piercing ringing overtook his hearing, or trying to keep his balance on Ghost as the direwolf struggled not to fall with the ground shaking, the entire kingdom trembling while people screamed behind him, all terrified by the explosion itself.

Not only the kingdom, but even as the ground cracked everywhere and the great tree of the realm swayed side to side, the North also felt the tremor and the explosion — from the remaining free folk staying in Hardhome to the Night’s Watch atop the Wall.

The distant explosive sound nearly made the ravens fall from the Wall, and the slight shaking it felt did not help, while shards of ice across the Wall began to fall, making the men of the Night’s Watch believe the Wall itself would collapse right then, on a night that could not possibly become more frightening or strange with the light in the North.

—–

Raccoon Here:

I will make a timeskip. This war will last for a year, because the Night King will not be so easy to defeat. I want things in the south to be in turmoil when Jon leaves for the war.

I will try to add some images later.

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🦝 Raccoon here: 🦝

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