Game of Thrones: Holy Flame King

Chapter 532 The end of the long night

In front of the Neck Defense Line, green flames danced on the snow, crackling and hissing.

Countless corpses turned into torches in the raging [wildfire], and the pressure on the Neck Defense Line was suddenly greatly reduced.

The human soldiers cheered excitedly, as if victory was close at hand.

 But this terrible green flame will eventually go out.

 The [wildfires] prepared by the coalition forces are not endless.

When the green fire in the field of vision gradually dimmed, the hot wind blowing in the face was gradually suppressed by the coldness of winter, and the army of corpses in the darkness swept in like a tide again.

Their number is still as overwhelming as before, as if [wildfire] burned only a very small part.

The human soldiers had no choice but to pick up their bows, arrows, spears, and swords again and join in the fight with the corpses.

Arrows were flying and artillery fire was surging, but they still could not stop the advance of the ghoul army.

The ghouls, who had no idea what fear and retreat were, filled the trenches with the corpses of their companions and piled them into small slopes, creating smooth roads leading to the head of the defense line.

 The two sides once again met in close combat and began the most brutal and **** fight.

 “Kill!”

 “Can’t let these **** things climb up!”

 “Support! We need support!”

 “What about the wildfires? Are there any more wildfires?”

 …

 After [Wildfire] was consumed, the defenders of the Neck Defense Line once again fell into a hard fight.

There are so many corpses that it seems like they will never be able to kill them all.

 This is a huge blow to the psychology of human soldiers.

 Furthermore, corpses can charge tirelessly, but humans need to rest and eat.

Although the headquarters divided the defenders into several batches and took turns to defend and rest, over time, this high-intensity continuous combat still made the human soldiers physically and mentally exhausted.

Nearly all the nobles of the seven countries present rushed to the front line to improve the combat morale of the army.

This approach is of course effective, but it cannot change the overall situation.

 “Damn it! There’s no way we can kill these ghosts!”

Ramsay Snow slashed a wight over with his long sword, and then said in a irritable tone.

"This can't go on like this!" Ramsay took a few steps back and sat down on the ground.

“Sir, please rest for a while, we will bear the burden here.”

"How long can you hold on?" Ramsay asked.

The armor on his body has been dyed a strange red-black color by the flesh and blood, and the pink Skinned Man crest belonging to the Bolton family on his chest looks even more terrifying.

"The Neck can't be defended! We must retreat!" Ramsay said again.

The soldiers around him obviously did not dare to respond to such words, but judging from their twinkling eyes, they were obviously interested.

 “You can’t retreat!” Someone else plucked up the courage to retort, “Once the Neck is lost, the whole of Westeros will be over!”

 Ramsay expected that someone would object, but when he saw the person who said this clearly, the expression on his face suddenly became a little strange.

 “Reek? How dare you contradict me?”

"Sir, my lord..." Reek was trembling uncontrollably as soon as Ramsay stared at him.

 The horrific memories of the past surged in like a tidal wave, making him unsteady and shaky.

"Reek," Ramsay stepped forward with a smile, a cruel light flashing in his eyes, "When did you become so brave?"

"I...I..." Reek said with all his strength, "I am worried about you, sir, in case His Majesty knows that you are running away from the battle..."

"Caesar himself doesn't even know where he's gone!" Ramsay said angrily.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen His Majesty’s White Dragon…” Someone echoed in a low voice.

 “The other two dragons can’t be seen either.”

“Perhaps Your Majesty ran away long ago.”

 …

"No! It won't!" Reek kept shaking his head, "Your Majesty will not abandon his people, and where else can he escape?"

"White Walkers can't swim," Ramsay said. "Perhaps His Majesty has escaped across the Narrow Sea with his wife and ministers and went to the continent of Essos. Oh, by the way, I almost forgot, you are not the Iron Islands. The legal heir. Why don't you take us to the Iron Islands, there will never be these ghosts there."

"No!" Reek was still shaking his head, "My lord, you can't leave! Don't you want to take back the Dreadfort? And you, you are all from the North, can you bear to see your hometown become a ghost?"

 Ramsay was amazed and reached out to pat Reek's face:

“Reek, what does the North have to do with you? Even if the Seven Kingdoms fall, what does it have to do with you. Why are you so excited?”

 “I, I am thinking about you, my lord...”

"No need." Ramsay snorted contemptuously, then turned his head and said loudly to his soldiers,

“The Neckline can’t be defended anymore! Caesar himself has probably escaped! We should retreat too! Go to the Iron Islands! Go to the other side of the Narrow Sea! These **** ghosts will never be able to catch up..."

 Ramsay stopped abruptly mid-sentence.

A sharp pain shot up from his lower back, draining all the strength from his body almost instantly.

"Reek...you..." Ramsay turned around with difficulty, looking at the servant who had been frightened out of his wits by his own look in disbelief, "You actually...killed me..."

 “Behead those who run away from battle!” Theon Greyjoy’s hands were still shaking uncontrollably, but he shouted with all his strength.

"Also, my name is not Reek." Watching Ramsay slowly fall down, Theon suddenly felt an unprecedented sense of relief and relief, "My name is Theon Greyjoy!"

"Stink..." Blood gurgled out of Ramsay's mouth, blocking his windpipe. He stretched out his hand to grab Theon, but it slid down weakly.

Even until he collapsed on the cold ground, Ramsay still couldn't believe that he actually died in Reek's hands.

Holding the **** sword in his hand, Theon looked around, only to find that Ramsay's men who had persecuted and abused him were looking at him with extremely horrified eyes.

 He thought they would rush to avenge Ramsay, but that didn't happen.

As if what he just killed was not the only son of the Lord of the Dreadfort, but just an insignificant passerby.

The next moment, someone finally reacted, but they just turned around and ran south.

"You can't run!" Xion yelled at the top of his lungs, "This is a life-and-death battle for the survival of mankind! We can only move forward! Move forward!"

As he spoke, he waved the **** sword and rushed towards the corpse climbing up the city.

 “Rush! Charge with me!”

Xion roared forward, not knowing if anyone behind him was following him.

He did not dare to look back.

 …

In the defense line headquarters, the atmosphere was oppressive and solemn, the dim candlelight flickered and was weak, and they tried their best to resist the invasion of darkness.

One bad news after another continued to come in, and everyone realized that the Neck Defense Line might not be able to hold.

“No news from your Majesty?” Lord Randyll Tarly, Hand of the King, asked.

“His Majesty said he wanted to go deep into the rear to kill the Night King, the leader of the White Walkers…but no news has come back yet…”

“Without the dragon, [Wildfire] is exhausted again, and there are not even many cannonballs left. But the wights are still so endless, we can’t hold on for long...”

Under Earl Landau’s deep gaze, Earl Mandalay’s voice became lower and lower.

Although some words were not spoken directly, Earl Landau knew very well that many people had already decided to give up.

This kind of battle without hope can make anyone despair.

Earl Randyll Tarly suddenly stood up, picked up the helmet on the table, and pulled out the corrugated steel sword [Broken Heart] inherited by his family, and said loudly:

 “Until I fall, the Neck Defense Line will never fall!”

 After saying that, he strode out.

 The wooden door opened, and a biting chill surged in, swirling around the room several times. The rest of the people looked at each other, but they still followed him out one after another.

Earl Leyton Hightower quickly caught up with Lord Randyll Tarly and whispered:

"Landao, we must prepare for the worst..."

"If you want to run away, run away by yourself." Lan Dao interrupted impatiently, "If the Neckline defense line collapses, there will naturally be nothing to say, but if we hold on, huh, the Hightower family will definitely be punished for what they have done. Pay the price!"

"I don't want to run away." Earl Leyton explained, "All the troops of the Hightower family have been sent here. They will hold on until the last moment. I can guarantee you this."

Earl Landau's face softened slightly and asked:

 “Then what do you want to say?”

“I want to say that if the worst happens... we must save a seed for the Seven Kingdoms..."

Earl Landau stopped and thought for a moment, then nodded slightly and said:

"Okay, Lord Leighton, I'll leave this to you. You can immediately bring some people back to King's Landing to find Queen Margaery..."

Before he could finish his words, he was interrupted by a burst of sharp cheers.

 “It’s dawn! It’s dawn!”

 “The long night is over!”

 “We have won! We have won!”

 …

Earl Landau raised his head in astonishment, and saw that the dark night sky in the north had indeed been torn open with a long and narrow opening, and the long-lost sunlight shined through, bringing warmth and light that made people cry.

“His Majesty Caesar must have succeeded in killing the Night King!” Earl Leyton cheered in surprise.

 “Yes, it must be!” Even Earl Landau, who had always been indifferent to mood and anger, was a little out of sorts at this time.

He walked a few steps quickly and came to the top of the city. He raised his giant sword high, waved it and shouted:

 "The Night King is dead! The Night King is dead! Fight back! Fight back!"

At this moment, the human soldiers on the originally shaky Neck Defense Line all cheered up.

They brandished their swords and charged at the army of ghouls.

 The gaps in light in the night sky are becoming more and more numerous and getting larger.

 It was as if the black curtain covering the world was being torn apart by countless hands.

As the light once again enveloped the earth, the cold winds of winter began to gradually weaken.

 Also weakened are the army of corpses.

Under the sunlight, their movements become sluggish, their vitality is no longer as tenacious as before, and they can be easily killed by ordinary swords.

 “Kill! Kill these monsters!”

 “We will win!”

On the contrary, human beings immediately burst out with strong fighting belief under the sunshine.

Not only did they regain the defense line originally breached by the ghouls, many people even jumped out of the defense line and charged north.

The originally black and dense tide of corpses became fragmented under such a counterattack.

 "We have won! Bran! We have won! The Night is over!"

Meera Reed rushed into the room, hugged the boy in the wheelchair, and shouted excitedly.

 “Did you see it? The sun is out! We are victorious!”

 When she calmed down a little, she realized that she had said the wrong thing.The origin of this chapter's debut can be traced to Nơv3l-B1n.

However, Bran smiled and nodded, looking out the window with empty eyes:

 “I see it. Yes, the night is over. We are victorious.”

“It’s simply amazing.” Meira said excitedly, “I thought the neck was going to be undefeated just now. Unexpectedly, in the blink of an eye, the sun actually came out! It must be the blessing of the gods!”

 “It was His Majesty Caesar who killed the Night King.” Brand said, with a trace of unnoticeable sadness hidden in his tone.

"So that's it!" Meera obviously didn't realize what was strange about Bran. "Let me take you out for a walk. The corpses become so weak during the day. There is no danger outside."

 “Okay.” Bran nodded.

 The two of them left the defense line and walked towards the enemy.

At this time, the tide of corpses near the Jingze defense line had been cleared away, and the army was still advancing northward.

 There were piles of corpses of corpses along the way, and of course the remains of human warriors were also mixed in.

The snow has stopped, and the sun hanging high in the sky shines thousands of rays of light, dispelling the severe cold of winter.

“Look, Your Majesty, they are back!” Meira pushed her wheelchair on the snow, suddenly pointed at the three giant dragons flying in the sky, and cheered.

Bran also raised his head and stared at the dragon quietly with his empty eyes, but did not speak.

“It’s a pity that I couldn’t see His Majesty kill the Night King with my own eyes.” Meera said with some emotion.

 She actually had some objections to Caesar because of Bran's eyes.

 But now, all these have disappeared as the other party kills the Night King and saves mankind.

"From now on, His Majesty Caesar's prestige in the Seven Kingdoms will probably become unprecedentedly high!" Meira said, "People will worship him like a god. He will also become the greatest in the history of the Seven Kingdoms. king!"

"The king you admire may have to sleep for a long time." Bran suddenly said.

 “Asleep?” Meera asked doubtfully, “What do you mean? Is His Majesty injured?”

"No." Bran said in a complicated tone, "It's just that he has another battle to fight."

“Another battle? Isn’t the long night over? Why is there still a battle?”

“The Long Night is only temporarily over.” Brand said, “Perhaps it will come back again in ten thousand years.”

“Ten thousand years.” Meera stuck out her tongue, “At that time, I would have turned into ashes.”

She tilted her head and asked again:

“Bran, what is the Long Night? Why does it appear again ten thousand years later?”

“Legend has it that only when the sins of mankind end, the long night will never appear again.” Brand said, “Do you think the sins of mankind will end?”

Meera shook her head, a little disappointed.

Bran comforted him:

"There is no need to be discouraged. At least we have won tens of thousands of years of peace. Moreover, maybe His Majesty Caesar can really end the long night forever..."

 “Is this Master Bran Stark?” an officer suddenly spoke and stopped the two of them.

"That's right." Brand said, "What's the matter?"

"That's it, Master Bran. We just found a warrior who died on the front line. Before he died, he kept whispering about Winterfell. We guessed that he might be someone from the Stark family. You want to go Can you identify the body?"

Bran's expression moved slightly and he said, "Okay."

Meira pushed the wheelchair and followed the officer not far forward when she saw the remains in the other man’s mouth.

It was a shriveled corpse with almost only a skeleton left, entangled with the remains of the ghoul. You can imagine the scene of a fierce fight between the two sides before death.

"There is no such person in the Stark family..." Meera looked at it for a long time, but could not recognize this person.

"It's Theon..." Bran recognized the other person.

 “Xion?” Meera was slightly startled.

She had heard about the reputation of the adopted son of the Duke of Winterfell, and also knew that he later betrayed the Stark family.

"Yes, he is a Stark," Bran said to the officer.

Meera was puzzled, but did not interrupt.

 Bran said sadly and solemnly:

"Please help collect the body, and I will take him to Winterfell for burial."

The plan to finish it at the end of the month has not changed (it will be delayed for a day or two at most). The secrets of the long night, the conspiracy of the gods, Caesar’s ending, and many holes buried before will all be filled in these days. Please believe in Carrot.

　　The sourcᴇ of this content is N(o)vᴇl(F)ire

 (End of this chapter)