“I don’t know, but I can make a guess,” Melisandre said, pursing her lips as she looked at Aegor. “After all, the first White Walker killer in Westeros in a thousand years is sitting right here, isn’t he?”

The earlier tension in the room had subsided, replaced by a more amicable atmosphere. This old witch, who had clearly lived for who knows how many centuries, was disturbingly good at steering conversations. Aegor, unable to find an appropriate response, kept his expression neutral and said curtly, “Stop spouting nonsense and get on with your guess.”

“From the images I saw and the death process you described, the White Walker’s body seems to be almost entirely composed of magic, with little physical substance,” the witch explained. “All living beings can be killed, either by physical force or magic. But there are entities capable of making physical attacks almost meaningless…”

“Immune to physical damage?” Aegor asked.

“In nature, some animals strengthen their bodies to achieve this goal, like turtles or dragons. They rely on tough shells or scales to resist external—well—physical harm. But the gods take other approaches. The God of Cold took the opposite route: he made his servants’ bodies almost entirely magical, granting the White Walkers near-complete immunity to physical attacks. Unless they are utterly pulverized by overwhelming force, they are essentially immortal.”

“Then why are they vulnerable to Dragonglass?” Aegor pressed.

“They aren’t afraid of Dragonglass itself, but rather the fire magic imbued within it,” Melisandre said confidently. “This magic is fundamentally opposed to the essence of the God of Cold’s servants. The conflict disrupts the ice magic that holds their bodies together, causing them to collapse.”

“Isn’t the Lord of Light the God of Fire? Since you call yourself his servant, shouldn’t you be skilled in fire magic?” Aegor asked pointedly.

“In truth, fire magic is the only kind I know,” Melisandre admitted. “But if you expect me to head north to the Wall and help you fight the White Walkers, that won’t happen. Not only do I have a more critical mission, but the truth is… I can’t even deal with a single White Walker.”

“Are you telling me that the fire magic you can use isn’t as effective as the magic in an obsidian dagger?” Aegor asked skeptically.

“Did you forget what I said earlier? The God of Cold is the mortal enemy of the Lord of Light. If his servants could be slain by minor fire magic, this war would’ve ended thousands of years ago,” the witch countered, shaking her head. “We just mentioned that the bodies of White Walkers are almost entirely magic—but ‘almost’ isn’t the same as ‘completely.’ If they were pure magic, even a small fire spell could disperse them. However, the small amount of physical substance in their bodies prevents this from happening.”

Melisandre raised a hand, her fingers brushing lightly across the fabric of Aegor’s black shirt. “If I wanted to, I could instantly ignite all the clothing on your body. You’d suffer severe burns, perhaps even die if you didn’t get treatment. But what do you think would happen if I tried this trick on a White Walker?”

Aegor stepped back, avoiding her touch. “It wouldn’t burn them at all?”

“Correct. They wouldn’t burn at all,” Melisandre replied with a faint smile, retracting her hand. “White Walkers’ bodies are entirely composed of magic, with a thin layer of ice acting as armor. Ordinary weapons can shatter this ice layer easily, but they cannot harm the essence beneath. Fire magic poses a threat to them, but it cannot pierce their physical bodies. The existence of this body means that even if they were buried in Dragonglass or engulfed in flames, they would remain intact. Only by piercing their bodies and injecting fire magic can their internal magic be disrupted, destabilizing their structure and killing them. That’s how you killed the White Walker with an Dragonglass dagger, the dagger’s sharpness broke through their protective exterior, and the fire magic within the Dragonglass disrupted the stable ice magic in their bodies, killing them instantly.”

She paused briefly before continuing, “Of course, sufficiently powerful fire magic could destroy them outright, but no one capable of casting fire magic at that level has been born yet.”

“Then… what’s the story behind Valyrian steel being able to kill White Walkers?” Aegor asked.

“Valyrian steel is a misleading name. To be more accurate, it should be called Valyrian metal. If you ever get the chance, test it with a magnet—you’ll see it contains no iron and therefore cannot be classified as steel. The Valyrians combined several rare and precious metals with magic to forge this remarkably light and durable material. I’ve encountered it before, and it’s evident that exceptionally powerful fire magic was used in its creation. Even after centuries, traces of that magic remain.”

“An alloy then? Valyrian steel should be called Valyrian alloy!” Aegor remarked.

Melisandre frowned slightly, puzzled by his penchant for inventing new terms. “Call it whatever you like. The name doesn’t matter.”

“I see. So, the most effective way to kill White Walkers is to pierce their bodies and use substances containing fire magic to destabilize their structure,” Aegor said, nodding. A sudden thought made his expression darken. “But what if I encounter a White Walker wearing armor? How could I kill them then?”

“Generally speaking, armor greatly hinders movement and spellcasting. Magic, as a form of energy, lacks strong penetration, which is why spellcasters typically wear simple, lightweight clothing. I, for example, never wear undergarments or heavy robes. If I were forced to wear full armor, the power of my spells would be halved at least,” Melisandre said, her lips curving into a sly smile. “But there’s no guarantee the White Walkers will adopt your logic. If you do encounter one wearing armor, my advice is simple: go back and think carefully about your next move.”

Realizing he had spent far too much time here, he stood abruptly and said, “You’re saying a lot of words, but they mean nothing.”

“Indeed,” Melisandre replied, standing as well, her tone unbothered. “But you, my friend, are an expert in killing White Walkers, aren’t you? Are you leaving already? Well… I’ve already removed the mark left in your body by the demigod, and the lingering aura of the Lord of Light will now ensure that He dares neither monitor you nor harm you. You are free to do as you wish.”

“You removed one mark but replaced it with another!” Aegor froze for a moment, the words sinking in. His recently subdued anger flared up again. “What’s the point of that? They’re all the same, they’re not good people!”

“Wherever there is fire, the Lord of Light’s influence can reach. With His mark, demigods hostile to the God of Cold, or other servants of the Lord of Light, will not harm you. And if you’re worried that I’ll constantly watch you, I can assure you I lack both the ability and the interest,” Melisandre said calmly, unaffected by his outburst. “This has already consumed my magic, it’s my way of apologizing for the offense I caused earlier. Believe me or not, it’s up to you. The only regret I have is that I can’t remove the traces left on you by the God of Cold. Regarding that, I can only suggest: don’t go north of the Wall again.”

Aegor wanted to demand that she undo whatever manipulations she had left on his body, but as he thought it over, he realized something. Even if she lied and claimed she had undone it, how would he know for sure? He couldn’t sense magic. It was better to ask something practical. “Didn’t you say the aura left by the God of Cold on me is weak? So why can you remove the stronger mark but not the weaker one?”

“An adult wolf can kill a newborn dragon with a single bite, but even so, a dragon is a fundamentally stronger creature than a wolf,” Melisandre explained with a soft sigh. “The God of Cold is evil, yes, but he is a true god, one who has just awakened after a long slumber. As winter deepens, his power will grow stronger and stronger. In contrast, the unfortunate demigod opposing him in the North is already in decline, inching closer to death.”

She looked at Aegor, her tone turning thoughtful. “The night is dark and full of terrors… Take care of yourself, my Night’s Watch friend. And one last thing: tell the guard outside that we’ve reached an understanding and this misunderstanding should end. We all have more important matters to deal with, don’t we?”

Aegor hesitated at the door. Her calm yet earnest tone left no room for further argument. After a moment’s pause, he nodded curtly, then pushed the door open and walked out.

***

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