The twin firewalls surrounding the city walls did hinder the advance of the corpse tide, but within that halted tide, a Corpse Giant and a reanimated Woolly Mammoth suddenly broke away from the main force and charged straight for the gate.

As undead puppets, these two behemoths no longer suffered from the physiological limitations that came with their massive size when alive—such as extreme heart strain, limited breathing rate, or fatigue. Their speed and endurance were actually far greater than before death. They stormed from the periphery toward the fortress, stepping over the stakes and trenches already flattened, charging toward the gates of Shadow Tower, utterly ignoring the rain of arrows from the defenders above.

Ballistae and catapults had been installed atop the Wall and on the surrounding walls to counter large threats like these. But it was the middle of the night, and the clouds were thicker than they had been at dusk. Though the firelight illuminated the field and the snow gave contrast, the wights outside still appeared as a mass of blackness, with no distinction between individuals. These two monsters used the cover of the tide to approach, then suddenly burst forward, crossing the burning moat in under ten seconds and reaching the gate before anyone could react. There was no time to pivot and aim the heavy siege weapons.

The thick hide of the Corpse Mammoth rendered normal Dragonglass arrows ineffective, while the Corpse Giant was clad in armor—either from his life or fitted by the Night King after death—and wielded a massive wooden club. Dragonglass arrowheads shattered like glass on impact. In full view of everyone, the mountain-sized beast crashed into the gates of Shadow Tower amid the flickering hues of flame.

The gate instantly caved inward. Amid the loud, muffled boom, thousands of hearts skipped a beat. Fortunately, the newly constructed Shadow Tower fortress was no shoddy build. Though the gate rang with the force of the impact, it held firm in its frame. Only the artisans gathered behind it, preparing to seal it with stone, were startled and scattered.

If this had been a living mammoth, such a full-force charge would have at least left it concussed, if not fatally injured. But the problem was precisely that it wasn’t alive.

The Wildfire climbed up the mammoth’s massive legs, licking up its fur and spreading across its body. But the beast showed no hesitation or fear. It backed up a few paces, and along with the Corpse Giant, struck the gate a second time from both sides.

Only then did the first bomb, thrown in panic by defenders atop the wall, arc through the air and land at their feet.

Two thunderous booms followed—one from the bomb’s explosion, the other from the second strike on the gate. The blast shook both the Corpse Mammoth and the Corpse Giant, but the Dragonglass shrapnel, which could kill dozens of unarmored wights, had limited effect on these behemoths. Most fragments lodged harmlessly in the mammoth’s thick fur or bounced off the giant’s armor. Only a few penetrated, and they were too small and lacked the fire magic needed to cause serious damage.

…

“Hey, old man, get away from the door! I don’t want to take over your shift just yet!” Colin the Disfigured, standing on a nearby wall, shouted, warning Denys, who was standing right across from the gate.

But the Commander of Shadow Tower didn’t move. Instead, he swiftly issued orders, calling the reserve forces inside the fortress to converge on the gate.

The third impact came without pause. The gate and its thick locking bars were sturdy enough, but the hinges and iron fittings that secured the door to the wall had begun to warp and loosen under the repeated force. After about thirty seconds, the two heavy ballistae with range on the gate finally turned with a creak and loosed two Dragonglass spears. One missed and landed in the snow. The other struck the mammoth square in the belly, piercing through its abdomen and finally bringing it down during its fourth charge.

The corpse of the mammoth slowly became a bonfire under the Wildfire, and a few sporadic cheers broke out. But its mission was complete. After four impacts, the now-loosened gate collapsed inward from the Corpse Giant’s final raging kick.

The Corpse Giant, its lower half ablaze in yellow-green fire, strode through the broken gate. Its glowing blue eyes scanned the interior. With a sweep of its thick wooden club, it knocked aside the barricades stacked behind the gate and lumbered toward Denys Mallister and the guards surrounding him.

The wall-mounted ballistae struggled to reposition and target the breach, but more wights had already followed the giant inside, flooding through the opened gate.

“Sworn brothers, with me! Stop him!” The battle had barely lasted ten minutes, yet Shadow Tower was already facing a collapse. Denys drew his longsword, eyes wide, and roared at the oncoming giant.

“Commander, get back!”

Countless Night’s Watch brothers armed with Dragonglass spears surged forward to stop the Corpse Giant. But the creature wore sturdy, patchwork armor of leather and iron, and his club far outmatched any human weapon in reach and power. Dragonglass arrowheads shattered on contact. Iron ones pierced, but caused no harm to the undead. Amid screams, brave yet unfortunate soldiers were smashed aside, spitting blood. Denys’s personal guard pulled him back to keep the old man from becoming the first casualty, which would leave the fortress leaderless.

The gate being breached wasn’t itself terrifying—it was a scenario accounted for in the defense plan. What was terrifying was that the first enemy through the breach couldn’t be stopped.

Just as the flaming Corpse Giant crushed the final barricade and was about to burst through the inner defenses and rampage through the fortress, an almost invisible arrow, faintly glowing gold, flew across the square. No one saw who fired it. It struck the giant’s thick leather armor and buried deep into his chest. Unlike the countless other arrows, this one had a different effect: the twelve-foot-tall giant stumbled, fell with a heavy thud, and never rose again. Silent and still, he looked almost as if he had simply gone to sleep.

Everyone turned in confusion toward the direction of the arrow’s origin, only to see Colin the Disfigured, holding a yew longbow, leap down from the wall to a nearby rooftop, then descend to the ground and run toward the fallen giant.

As the Deputy Commander of Shadow Tower and one of its best fighters, Colin had naturally been entrusted with one of the two “Lightbringer” arrows in the fortress. Like the bombs, these were meant for White Walkers. But when the giant burst through the gate, there was no time to worry about protocol.

Publicly, it was said there were seventy-seven Lightbringer arrows, but a few were fakes. However, Aegor would never joke about life-and-death supplies. Though each fortress received only a few Dragonsteel Arrows melted from Dark Sister, all were genuine. Drawing one in a moment of crisis had proved invaluable.

“That kid… cough, the Commander didn’t cheat us! This damn Lightbringer isn’t just for show!” Colin shouted as he ran. “Some of you help me flip this bastard over. This arrow is too damn precious not to reuse. The rest of you, get to the gate and seal it. Denys, tell the wall, use the bombs if needed. Don’t save them for the White Walkers!”

Killing the Corpse Giant with a single arrow boosted morale instantly. But Colin the Disfigured had only one thought: a divine weapon like this couldn’t be wasted.

He ran to the fallen Corpse Giant, showing no fear of the behemoth coming back to life. With several soldiers’ help, he flipped the corpse and, using axe and sword, pried the Dragonsteel Arrow from the giant’s breastbone—just before the fire reached the upper half of the body.

The barricades at the gate had been partially destroyed, but the logistics personnel quickly piled up debris. Still, the broken gate had become a weak point in the once-sturdy wall. Just looking at the gaping black hole gave Denys a sense of dread.

“Give the order,” he said. “Tell the brothers on the wall to use bombs and Wildfire at all costs. Buy us time to retake the gate!”

The first wave of humanoid wights, still ablaze, had already rushed through the breach, stepping over the corpse of the mammoth. Every combat-ready person inside the fortress grabbed a weapon to meet them. Amid wight howls and Night’s Watch shouts, a series of explosions rang out beyond the gate—loud ones from bombs, softer ones from Wildfire. These valuable consumables, meant to be used sparingly, were now hurled without restraint into the corpse tide. Within ten meters of the gate, a wall of fire and explosions turned the entrance into a deathtrap. The slaughter gave the artisans precious time.

Under close guard, the artisans built a two-meter-high dwarf wall within the gateway, enduring the threat of stray wights, then piled additional layered obstacles in a fish-scale pattern around it, fully shifting the defense to this breach.

…

“Move two ballistae from the wall to face the gate directly. If more mammoths or giants appear, don’t let them take another step!” Denys stood in the chaotic square by the still-burning giant corpse, feeling an ominous weight in his chest. “Tell the old and the children who can’t fight to start evacuating to the top of the Wall.”

This mammoth-giant combo had broken through at the worst possible time—just before the artisans finished sealing the gate. The realization struck Denys like a hammer: the enemy was not a mindless horde. They were intelligent magical beings, capable of strategic thinking. The defense plan alone wouldn’t be enough. If only wights were outside, he could defend until the burnt corpses piled high as the wall, until the last bit of supply was gone. But would the enemy give him the chance to be a hero?

Mammoths and giants were just the beginning. The White Walkers surely had other methods yet unseen. And with the gate gone and their strength weakened, Denys feared that by the time he saw their full hand, Shadow Tower would already be lost.

“My Lord, reinforcements and supplies from Sentinel Tower have arrived. Please give orders!”

“Move the Wildfire and bombs to the wall. Send them where they’re needed most. Bring every soldier to the gate, fully armed.”

“Yes.”

“Colin, over here!” Denys called to Colin the Disfigured, who was lovingly polishing “Lightbringer Sixty-Five” nearby. His expression turned solemn as he handed down a new command. “Give that arrow to someone else. Take a team of reliable brothers, climb to the fifth level of the stairs, and hold that position. If the White Walkers break through Shadow Tower, I want you to destroy the stairway. Do not let Shadow Tower’s fall become the fall of the Wall.”

“What?” Colin’s eyes widened in disbelief. “But aren’t we just…”

“We’ve stabilized the line, and the situation looks good. I’m not blind. That’s true—for now. But how long will it last?” Denys cut him off. “If we hold, fine. Just think of me as a paranoid old fool. But if we fall, I promise you, it won’t change the outcome to have one more Ranger on the ground. Shadow Tower may fall, but someone must survive to explain to the Commander and the other brothers how we lost, what kind of troops the enemy used, and what tactics they employed. They must not keep fighting in the dark.”

(To be continued.)

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep