The North.
Two kilometers south of Queenscrown.
The cold wind carried shards of ice as it mercilessly battered the oak trees standing tall upon the rugged mountain slopes.
Wrapped in a black bear cloak, Galon reined in his horse atop a hillside.
Holding a bronze telescope in his hand, he observed the direction of Queenscrown to the north, the town surrounded by a lake.
Behind him stood a vast army.
Through the telescope—
Tens of thousands of wildlings who could barely be considered strong and healthy surged from the forests near the King's Road toward Queenscrown like a rising tide.
They wore all kinds of leather armor and wielded crude, even primitive, spiked clubs.
Their formation was disorganized as they howled and charged toward the place Galon had prepared as their graveyard.
"Looks like the wildlings are starving."
"They didn't even bother sending scouts..."
Half a day later, Galon lowered the telescope and smiled at the guards beside him.
The others immediately burst into laughter.
Sparta was even more eager to volunteer.
"My lord, should we make our move now?"
Galon's eyes flickered.
"Wait a little longer. Queenscrown can't accommodate this many wildlings. Once they've crowded together, we'll attack."
With that, he raised the telescope again and continued watching the wildlings' movements.
Half a month earlier, Galon had led the soldiers of Harroway's Hill, the Vale cavalry, and the Night's Watch under Tywin Lannister to rendezvous near the Last River.
From Tywin, Galon learned that his earlier scorched-earth strategy had been extremely successful.
The wildlings' food supplies were almost completely exhausted.
Large numbers of wildlings had been forced to leave the castles along the Wall, spreading southward into the Gift in search of anything they could eat.
Under such circumstances, it was inevitable that the wildlings would come into conflict with the clans living in the mountains of the Gift.
After a fierce battle, the wildlings used their numerical advantage to successfully seize the mountain clans' food supplies and forced some of them to flee south.
The surviving mountain clans had no choice but to migrate southward, hoping to seek protection from House Stark.
Along the way, they encountered Galon's army.
After learning Galon's identity, they joined the army to reclaim the Wall without hesitation, eager to avenge their people.
When the surrounding clans heard the news, they also joined the army.
They wanted to defend their homes, fulfill their clans' oaths of loyalty to House Stark, and obtain enough food to survive the winter.
Thus, while Galon swept aside small groups of wildlings, he also recruited warriors from the mountain clans.
In only half a month, his army had expanded from seven or eight thousand men to twenty or thirty thousand.
If not for the nearly one thousand giants and their mammoths near the Wall, Galon had even considered attacking Castle Black directly.
After discussing the matter with Tywin, Galon decided to use Queenscrown as bait.
He released some wildling prisoners and had them spread the information that Queenscrown was filled with food, drawing part of the wildlings' main force out of the castles.
Once this group was annihilated, the remaining wildlings hiding inside the castles would no longer pose much of a threat.
As for the giants and mammoths, he already had a complete plan.
The giants of Westeros were not like the giants in other fantasy stories, possessing strange abilities or absurd heights.
They were more like humanoid creatures considerably taller than ordinary humans.
Although they could communicate, their intelligence was average.
Giants had no social distinction between nobles and commoners. The strongest among them would be regarded as their leader.
They did not build dwellings, wear clothing, or possess any particular survival skills.
They relied entirely on their enormous bodies and tremendous strength.
But the gap in physical strength could be made up for by human intelligence and technology.
Throughout the long ages, countless songs had been sung across Westeros about heroes hunting and killing giants.
Even Donal Noye, the one-handed blacksmith of the Night's Watch in the original story, had been able to fight the strongest of giants to the death.
But that did not mean giants were useless.
An individual giant might be hunted down relatively easily.
But what if there were nearly a thousand giants, all equipped with heavy armor and organized into a single war host?
Apart from dragons, who in all of Westeros could resist them?
That was precisely what Galon wanted.
'Giants revere nature and strength. As long as I demonstrate sufficient power...'
'If I promise to help them defeat the Others and provide the food they need to survive, they will follow my commands.'
'When that happens, all seven kingdoms will be in my hands.'
Galon recalled the events of the original story.
He knew that the giants had joined the wildlings and Mance Rayder entirely because of the pressure to survive.
The Others were already close.
The giants had no way to resist them, so under Mance Rayder's diplomacy, they had joined the wildlings in their southward migration in search of survival.
'I have to admit, Mance Rayder really is an extraordinary man.'
'Not only did he manage to gather all those wildling tribes peacefully, he even spent years learning the Old Tongue so he could persuade the giants to join them.'
'If he's willing to submit to me...'
'Keeping him alive to control the wildlings might not be a bad choice.'
Galon watched Queenscrown in the middle of the lake.
He noticed that the Night's Watch soldiers serving as bait had already fled by boat, while most of the wildlings had crowded onto the causeway leading to Queenscrown until it was completely blocked.
Those in the rear continued pushing forward, completely ignoring whether there was any room ahead.
Without Mance Rayder, the wildlings before him were nothing more than a scattered mob.
"Pass the order!"
"Everyone move now. Block the causeway and cut the wildlings in two!"
A sharp light flashed through his eyes.
He drew Ice, the greatsword Sansa had entrusted to him before his departure, and signaled the hornblower.
Woo—woo!
The long, cold blast of the horn pierced through layer upon layer of snow and wind, spreading in every direction.
The next moment—
Galon raised Ice and swung it forward.
Behind him, tens of thousands of mountain clan warriors and soldiers from Harroway's Hill surged out of the forest toward Queenscrown.
"Kill!"
The soldiers moved along the edge of the lake like a gigantic axe splitting a mountain, advancing from south to north and dividing the tens of thousands of wildlings into two groups.
The deafening cries of battle instantly echoed across the entire lake.
Panic erupted among the wildlings inside Queenscrown.
Only when they overturned the so-called supply wagons did they realize they had been deceived.
"Quick! Retreat!"
"It's a trap! Get back!"
But there was only one route into and out of Queenscrown.
Most of the wildlings were packed tightly onto it, unable to advance or retreat.
Some jumped into the freezing lake, attempting to swim toward the shore.
But in the blink of an eye—
Countless arrows flew from the distance.
The poorly protected wildlings, with almost nowhere to hide, fell one after another like wheat flattened by a violent wind.
The wildlings on the northern side charged several times, trying to rescue their brothers, only to be driven back with heavy losses.
The shield-and-spear soldiers of Harroway's Hill stood firm like an impassable wall.
Before the poorly equipped wildlings could even reach them, they were pierced through by spears one after another.
In a matter of moments, thousands of wildling corpses lay across the frozen ground.
"Run!"
"It's a trap!"
Seeing that the situation was hopeless, the wildlings in the rear abandoned those trapped in the encirclement and fled toward the road they had come from.
But at that moment, within the oak forest on the opposite side of Queenscrown—
Andar Royce drew his greatsword and shouted to the Vale knights behind him.
"My lords, it's our turn to make an appearance."
"For the Vale!"
Three thousand Vale cavalry thundered out of the forest, trampling through the snow and blocking the wildlings' escape route.
Under the charge of the elite Vale cavalry, the wildlings had no means of resisting.
In an instant, they were scattered.
Galon seized the opportunity, crushing the fleeing wildlings one group at a time.
"Yield and you live!"
"Yield and you live!"
Under the endless cries demanding surrender, the wildlings who had survived by sheer luck could only throw down their weapons and kneel.
"Lord Tywin, take the Harroway's Hill knights and secure these prisoners."
"Ser Jaime and I will go ahead."
"Once you've finished clearing the battlefield, proceed to Castle Black and rendezvous with me."
Seeing that the battle had been decided, Galon immediately issued his next orders.
Tywin, dressed in black, glanced at his son and calmly nodded.
He knew that Glover did not completely trust him.
Not only had Galon left the knights of Harroway's Hill behind to keep watch over him, he was also taking his son away as a hostage.
Tywin silently sighed.
He pulled on the reins and moved forward to organize his forces, securing the prisoners while sending men to pursue the scattered wildlings still fleeing the battlefield.
Seeing this, Galon immediately led the assembled Vale cavalry and mountain clan warriors toward Castle Black.
Along the way—
Jaime rode beside Galon with a hollow expression.
Before leaving King's Landing, he had learned that Gendry had secretly ordered Cersei, Joffrey, and Tommen to be executed.
He had been like this ever since.
His mind was a complete haze.
Had Tywin not carefully looked after him, Jaime might not even have survived the journey to the North.
The sound of hooves echoed through the snow.
Jaime rode at the very front alongside Galon, with seven or eight meters separating them from Glover's guards behind.
The cold wind never stopped.
His tangled golden hair had been blown into disarray, its luster dulled by the journey. His eyes had long since lost their light.
Then Galon's voice reached him through the wind.
"Ser Jaime, as we agreed, I've already sent people to Sunspear to quietly bring Myrcella away.
You have two choices:
First, I'll send her to Essos and leave her enough money to live on her own.
Second, I'll send her to the Wall. She'll abandon her family name and become a free folk."
A spark of life suddenly returned to Jaime's eyes.
He stared at Galon in agitation.
"Is that true?"
Galon did not look at him.
His eyes remained fixed ahead as he gave a slight nod.
He was not lying.
When he had originally wanted Jaime to persuade King's Landing to surrender, he had promised to spare his children.
Although Tywin's actions later rendered Jaime's help unnecessary, Galon had still honored his promise.
After taking control of King's Landing and reaching an agreement with Varys, he had secretly ordered Varys to send men to Sunspear and bring Myrcella away.
"King Gendry was determined to kill Tommen. I couldn't stop him.
But Myrcella in Dorne is another matter. I can help you keep her alive.
After all, my honor would never allow me to become so ruthless that I would sacrifice a girl."
As the victor, Galon did not particularly care whether Myrcella lived or died.
What mattered was giving Jaime a reason to keep living, so that he could fight against the army of the Others and make himself useful.
The Night's Watch had been almost destroyed by the wildlings.
Galon needed Tywin and Jaime to stabilize the Night's Watch.
As for Myrcella—
If Varys's people could rescue her, that would naturally be ideal.
If they failed, Galon would still have done everything within his power.
"Myrcella... my Myrcella..."
Thinking of his kind-hearted little princess, Jaime's eyes immediately became wet.
He looked at Galon and said solemnly,
"Kingmaker, please send her to Braavos... If possible, give her a stable life."
Galon nodded again.
"Before I left King's Landing, King Gendry ordered me to send people to Dorne to negotiate with Sunspear.
My people are among them.
If everything goes according to plan, then judging by the time that has passed, Sunspear should already have begun taking action."
He glanced at Jaime.
"As for the outcome, you will know where she is within a few months at most."
Jaime nodded solemnly.
He turned toward the south and prayed devoutly.
"Gods, please protect Myrcella. Let her escape safely."
Over the next few days—
With the spark of hope represented by Myrcella, Jaime finally began to recover.
He started taking on some responsibilities, leading a portion of the soldiers and voluntarily scouting ahead for Galon.
Another day passed.
Through the snowstorm, they saw the silhouette of a stone tower.
Castle Black!
As the headquarters of the Night's Watch, the castle consisted of several towers and wooden fortifications.
It was nothing like the castles of the south, surrounded on all sides by stone walls and moats.
Apart from the Wall to the north, there was not a single stone wall protecting its other three sides.
After all, the Night's Watch was defending against the wildlings and Others beyond the Wall, not the Seven Kingdoms behind them.
At this moment—
Because the fleeing wildlings had carried word back, Castle Black was already under complete lockdown.
More than forty thousand wildlings stood behind wooden barricades with crude weapons in their hands, nervously watching as Galon's army approached.
On a large open area outside the eastern side of Castle Black, some seven or eight hundred giants and their mammoth mounts were resting.
When Galon's army approached within three miles, they suddenly rose to their feet.
Each giant grabbed a huge, crude wooden club and roared toward the heavens.
At the same time, the mammoths raised their trunks and trumpeted.
In an instant—
The roars and trumpeting shook the heavens.
For a moment, it seemed as though even the falling snow had been frozen in midair by the sound.
The Vale cavalry and mountain clan warriors behind Galon immediately grew restless.
"Seven hells, those are giants?"
Andar tried to calm his horse while staring in astonishment at the hairy creatures standing three or four meters tall.
"Yes."
"Those are giants."
Galon's red eyes burned like flames.
Knowledge granted to him by the Old Gods surfaced in his mind, and he calmly issued his orders.
"Everyone stop!"
"I'll go and have a proper conversation with these giants."
Andar froze.
"What are you going to talk about? Will they even listen to you? They're savage giants!"
Galon merely smiled and tugged on his reins.
"They aren't savage. They just need a little... communication."
His horse moved forward.
In front of Castle Black, Mance watched Galon ride forward alone, his brows tightly furrowed.
'Who is that man? What is he trying to do?'
'Could he be here to negotiate with me?'
His heart stirred.
The wildlings' food supplies had already been completely exhausted.
If they could not find food soon, the tens of thousands following him would inevitably fall apart.
Even the giants would abandon him.
Mance thought for a moment before deciding to ride forward as well.
He wanted to hear what this man had to say.
But unexpectedly, Galon did not approach him.
Instead, he rode toward the giants on the eastern outskirts.
Two hundred meters from the giants, Galon reined in his horse.
He took a deep breath and shouted in the ancient, rough, yet powerful tongue of the First Men.
"According to the ancient pact, who among you is the leader of the giants?"
The moment the words left his mouth, the giants erupted into commotion.
They could not believe that this little man could speak their language.
On the other side, Mance was equally astonished.
He subconsciously stopped where he was, wanting to hear what the northern lord and the giants were going to say.
At that moment, a giant nearly four meters tall stepped out from among them.
His entire body was covered in gray-white hair.
In a deep, muffled voice, he said,
"Little man... You speak... I am Mag the Mighty, Mag Mar Tun Doh Weg of the Thenn..."
"Strong Mag."
"Who are you?"
Galon knew that giants did not clearly distinguish between names and titles, so he simply replied:
"Glover..."
"Iron Fist."
A thoughtful look appeared between Mag's tiny eyes.
Within his vague memories, he found a fragment concerning the Iron Fist.
"You are... First Man... Wut... Nagan?"
Galon nodded firmly.
Wut Nagan meant "Child of the Forest" in the Old Tongue.
"Strong Mag, the North is my territory. You should not set foot here."
Mag shook his head.
"No. We... hungry."
"Others... behind. Rayder... go south."
A sharp light flashed in Galon's eyes.
He immediately replied:
"According to the ancient pact, if giants wish to set foot upon the lands of the First Men, they must defeat me!"
He dismounted and drew Ice from his waist, driving the greatsword into the snow.
Then he shouted in a powerful voice,
"Iron Fist challenges Strong Mag!"
"If I win, I will honor the pact, shelter you, and provide you with food."
"If I lose, my lands are yours!"
Mance could hardly believe his ears.
He stared at Galon as though the man had gone mad.
'Challenge a giant? Does he really have to find such an absurd way to die?'
But excitement appeared in Mag's eyes.
"Good."
"Strong... Mag... accept... you."
"First Man... Wut Nagan... King..."
Mance, who had thought Galon had lost his mind, froze.
'King of the First Men? He's the King of the First Men?'
'Could he be the Child of Hope that the Raven and Leaf spoke of?'
His eyes filled with intense excitement.
And at that moment— The battle between Galon and the giant began.
The distance was only two hundred meters.
Mag covered it in a few breaths.
He raised his enormous wooden club, which was taller than a man, and viciously swung it toward Galon's head.
"Kingmaker!"
Three miles away, Andar was instantly terrified.
He pulled on the reins and prepared to lead the cavalry forward to rescue Galon.
But the next scene left him, Jaime, and every soldier behind him frozen in place.
Galon steadied his breathing.
He gripped Ice with both hands.
The moment the enormous club came crashing toward him with a fierce gust of wind, he swung his sword upward.
Crack!
The razor-sharp Valyrian steel blade instantly severed Mag's enormous wooden club.
At the same time, Galon silently uttered several characters of the Origin Language.
The next instant, he leaped into the air and swung Ice down toward Mag, who had staggered after his club was broken.
At the critical moment, Mag roared in fury.
He swung the remaining portion of the club in his right hand toward Galon once more.
With a sharp sound—
The greatsword effortlessly sliced away two of the fingers on Mag's right hand.
Then Galon twisted his body in midair.
The instant he landed, Ice cut across Mag's right leg.
Bang!
With a piercing roar of pain, Mag's enormous body crashed heavily into the snow.
Snow and dust exploded into the air, and the ground itself seemed to tremble.
Galon slowly rose.
Holding Ice in his hand, he walked toward Mag and shouted in the Old Tongue,
"According to the ancient pact... Strong Mag, I have won!
I will honor our agreement.
I will provide your people with the food they need to survive, protect you from danger, and regard you as important allies.
And you will serve me!"
His powerful words echoed through the surrounding area.
Mag endured the pain and lowered his head.
"Mag... lost."
"Mag... honor... pact. Mag... people... honor... pact."
"First Man... Wut Nagan... King... Care... Mag... people."
"Mag... people... fight."
In an instant—
The giants behind Mag raised their wooden clubs and roared.
"King... pact... fight!"
"King... pact... fight!"
The voices of hundreds of giants in the Old Tongue tore through the snowstorm and enveloped Castle Black.
Countless wildlings stared at the scene in disbelief.
Then Mance trembled with excitement and shouted at them.
"We found him!"
"We found him!"
"He is..."
"The Child of Hope!"
Mance's voice awakened countless wildlings.
They stared suspiciously at Galon, who stood holding Ice. For a moment, they did not know whether to believe Mance or the giants.
But then—
Galon turned around and looked directly at them.
Against the light, the wildlings seemed to see a white weirwood tree shedding tears of blood.
In a trance, the falling leaves from beyond the Wall seemed to carry a message.
"Child of the Old Gods!"
"Iron Fist..."
"He is the Child of the Old Gods!"
Countless wildlings who still held faith in the Old Gods fell reverently to their knees and bowed their heads before Galon.
Thus—
Under the astonished gazes of Andar and the others, Galon reclaimed Castle Black's wildlings and giants without shedding another drop of blood.
By the time Tywin arrived with his men—
Galon had not only properly arranged the wildlings, he had also learned about Mance's experiences beyond the Wall and why he had called Galon the Child of Hope.
Mance had encountered Leaf, a mysterious Child of the Forest who had traveled throughout Westeros and Essos for more than two hundred years, while organizing the wildlings.
From this extraordinary Child of the Forest, Rayder had learned that the outbreak of the Others was imminent.
Only the King of the First Men, who possessed the awakened bloodline of the Greenseers, could save the world.
At first, he had been somewhat skeptical.
Until—
Mance witnessed a huge number of Others devouring an entire wildling village.
Only then did he completely believe Leaf's prophecy.
And that was why Mance had called Galon the "Child of Hope."
'Three-Eyed Crow... Child of the Forest...'
Galon remembered the prophecy that had troubled him for so long.
'Come to think of it, I really should go beyond the Wall and meet that Three-Eyed Crow.'
'I wonder how Bran is doing now.'
After careful consideration, Galon gradually made up his mind.
After persuading the wildlings at Shadow Tower and Eastwatch to surrender, he would lead his people into the Haunted Forest to search for Bran and the Three-Eyed Crow.
Now, he had enough confidence to deal with the mysterious Three-Eyed Crow.
But unfortunately, the complicated situation involving the one hundred thousand wildlings completely disrupted his plans.
After entering the Wall, only forty or fifty thousand wildlings were willing to continue following Mance Rayder.
Everyone else had scattered throughout the Gift and the New Gift.
These wildlings were savage by nature and worshiped raiding and plunder.
They neither believed that Galon was the Child of Hope nor were willing to kneel before him.
As a result, the nearby mountain clans suffered.
Galon simply organized the wildlings who had surrendered and made them fight for him.
With the giants among them, he led the wildlings from Castle Black, gradually eliminating the scattered wildlings who refused to submit.
A month later—
After repeated campaigns of suppression, the original one hundred thousand wildlings had been reduced to fewer than thirty thousand.
The remaining wildlings had either been defeated or killed in battle by Galon, or had fled deeper into the mountains, where their whereabouts were unknown.
Thus—
The wildling crisis that had swept across the Wall was gradually brought under control by Galon.
Several more months passed.
As the promised supplies arrived, the wildlings and giants gradually settled down.
To prevent conflict between the Night's Watch and the wildlings, Galon ordered Mance to lead all the wildlings and giants loyal to him to garrison Shadow Tower.
The remaining members of the Night's Watch, meanwhile, would continue guarding Castle Black under Tywin's command.
Then—
Galon led part of his forces to Eastwatch.
From there, they would board ships and sail toward Skagos.
Yes.
Not the Haunted Forest.
Skagos.
Plans could never keep pace with changing circumstances.
When the supply convoy arrived, Galon's guards had also brought the dragonbinder to Castle Black.
Upon seeing it, Sparta immediately begged Galon to travel to Skagos and drive away the dragon for them.
Galon did not hesitate for long.
He agreed.
Sparta and his people had fought bloody battles for him.
Of the five hundred men they had once numbered, fewer than a hundred remained.
Whether out of gratitude or honor, Galon had to fulfill his promise.
And so—
Galon embarked upon his journey to tame a dragon.
__________
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