It worked.
Lynn watched Ygritte's docile, obedient expression. For the first time, he felt genuine interest in "skinchanging" beyond mere utility.
The Three-Eyed Raven hadn't lied.
Perhaps this was the correct approach.
"Alright. You can get up now."
Lynn withdrew his mental awareness.
Ygritte's body trembled like she'd just woken from a beautiful dream.
She looked at her bow on the ground, then at Lynn. An uncontrollable blush crept across her cheeks, but her eyes grew more complex.
That feeling just now...
More gentle than last time. More... intimate.
His will was like the warmest spring water, enveloping her heart—frozen stiff in this ice and snow.
Making her surrender. Making her willingly lower all defenses.
"Is... is this magic?"
Ygritte's voice trembled.
She picked up her bow but didn't dare meet Lynn's eyes.
"Snap out of it."
Lynn tapped her head without sympathy.
He looked at the Three-Eyed Raven and Leaf calmly.
"I'll fulfill my promise. But not now."
"I need to see Mance Rayder first."
"He has something I want."
The Three-Eyed Raven's single eye studied Lynn deeply but didn't object.
"Go. You'll need his help."
"Good luck."
Leaving that cave protected by the Old Gods and returning to the endless white wasteland felt like waking from a dream.
The three rangers trailing behind looked at Lynn completely differently now.
Their eyes held awe and fear.
Jon Snow was troubled. Several times he glanced at Lynn, wanting to speak but holding back.
He desperately wanted to ask—was the "vessel" his brother Bran?
But he didn't dare.
Afraid of an answer he couldn't accept.
But Lynn had promised not to use someone wolf-bonded as a sacrifice.
The group's atmosphere was stranger than before.
The only one who seemed excited was Ygritte.
"Hey, southerner."
While traveling, she kept sidling up to Lynn, nudging him with her elbow.
"What?"
Lynn kept his eyes forward.
"That amazing ability you used... do it again."
Ygritte lowered her voice.
Those usually wild grey eyes now gleamed with strange light.
Lynn stopped, turned to look at her like she was an idiot.
"Are you sick?"
"You're sick!"
Ygritte glared at him, though her cheeks flushed.
"I just want to... help you practice."
"Right, help you practice!"
"Don't you need a sparring partner?"
She'd found the perfect excuse. Suddenly felt justified.
Lynn ignored her and quickened his pace.
This woman's awakened some weird fetish.
Can soul-level contact be addictive?
But all along the journey, Ygritte stuck to him like glue.
"Just once. I promise not to resist."
"I don't think you fully mastered it earlier."
"See, I can still talk to you. That means your control wasn't deep enough."
"Are you... inadequate or something?"
"Are all southerners this wishy-washy?"
Jon listened from behind, completely confused. Finally asked:
"What are you two even talking about? What control? What 'deep' enough?"
"You know nothing, Jon Snow!"
Ygritte shouted back without turning.
Jon got shut down and closed his mouth.
He felt some atmosphere flowing between those two that he couldn't understand.
Finally, worn down by Ygritte's relentless pestering, Lynn stopped.
He turned, staring at her intently.
"You're sure?"
"Of course!"
Ygritte lifted her chin like a victorious rooster.
Lynn had been harassed long enough. Finally lost patience.
He closed his eyes.
This time, his mental awareness wasn't gentle sunlight.
It became an invisible hand—domineering, undeniable—directly grasping her soul while she was fully conscious.
"Ah..."
Ygritte groaned softly. Her legs went weak. She fell backward uncontrollably.
Lynn reached out, catching her in his arms.
"Now. How does it feel?"
Lynn's low voice murmured in her ear.
Ygritte trembled all over.
She could feel every inch of her thoughts, every notion, laid bare beneath his will.
One thought from him could make her cry, laugh, do anything.
This feeling of complete control didn't frighten her. Instead, it stirred trembling excitement deep in her soul.
"Kneel."
Lynn commanded.
Ygritte's body disobeyed her. Her knees buckled, about to drop into the snow.
But just as her knees were about to touch ground, Lynn's will swiftly withdrew.
That's enough. No need to actually make her kneel. Ygritte meant no harm. Just wanted her to stop pestering him.
Lynn held Ygritte in his arms.
She gasped for breath.
Her forehead was covered in fine sweat, frozen by the cold wind. Her cheeks were red enough to bleed.
She looked up at Lynn with hazy eyes.
"You..."
"Now. Can you quietly lead the way?"
Lynn looked down at her.
"...Yes."
Ygritte lowered her head, voice barely audible.
For the next few days, she was much quieter.
Though occasionally her glances at Lynn grew increasingly heated and resentful.
Northern Frostfangs.
When that endless mountain range—like a beast's fangs—finally appeared on the horizon, everyone in the group sighed with relief.
But the closer they got, the heavier the atmosphere became.
The air began carrying the smell of countless campfires burning.
Mixed with roasted meat, strong liquor, sweat, and animal dung.
Occasionally they heard deep horn blasts from deep in the valley, and giants roaring like avalanches.
Here gathered almost all the free folk from beyond the Wall.
Fleeing the awakening White Walkers, they'd assembled under their common king—Mance Rayder.
They seemed to be preparing to assault the Wall to the south.
When Lynn's group crested the final ridge, everyone was shocked by the sight.
Below the ridge stretched a valley so vast its end couldn't be seen.
The valley was densely packed with tents made from animal hides and bones.
Forming a massive, chaotic "city" bursting with primitive vitality.
Countless campfires—like stars in the night—burned in every corner of the valley.
Tens of thousands of wildlings in various furs, carrying crude weapons, moved through it—shouting, trading, fighting.
Lynn even saw mammoth elephants the size of small hills being used as pack animals, slowly walking between camps.
And giants over four meters tall, covered in long hair, wielding massive stone clubs, sitting around huge fires tearing into whole roasted sheep.
At least a hundred thousand people here!
"Seven Gods above..."
One ranger dropped his weapon in the snow with a despairing groan.
Just then, a sharp whistle came from below the valley.
A dozen wildling scouts on short, sturdy warhorses charged from behind a pile of rocks, quickly surrounding the five of them.
Their spears and bone bows aimed mercilessly at these uninvited guests.
"Crows!"
"Kill them!"
Hate-filled shouts rose up.
"Stop!"
Ygritte stepped forward, shouting loudly.
"They're my guests! I'm taking them to see Mance!"
A scarred wildling who looked like the scout leader rode forward, examining Ygritte with scrutiny.
Then looked at Lynn, Jon, and the others behind her.
"The fire-kissed girl? I know you."
The scout leader sneered.
"You bring crows to our territory—you want to be a traitor?"
"I'm not!"
Ygritte panicked.
"Then kill them. Prove your loyalty!"
The scout leader threw a short axe at her feet.
The atmosphere instantly became explosive.
Jon and the three rangers already had hands on sword hilts, ready for a final desperate fight.
"Enough."
A voice broke the standoff.
Lynn stepped forward, moving in front of Ygritte.
He ignored the spears and arrows aimed at him, just looked at the scout leader.
"You want me to kill you to prove my intentions?"
The scout leader froze, then flew into rage.
"You little southern crow—big mouth!"
He raised his spear to strike.
But the next second, his movement froze.
An indescribable cold shot up from his feet through his entire body!
He watched helplessly as a thin layer of frost spread at visible speed from beneath Lynn's feet.
The frost instantly covered his horse's hooves, freezing it in place!
The horse shrieked in terror but couldn't move!
The entire scene went deathly silent!
All the wildlings were shocked by this bizarre sight!
Is this... witchcraft?!
"Now. Can you take us to see Mance?"
Lynn's voice remained calm.
"Or would you prefer I walk there myself?"
Under ice magic's influence, a massive frost sword slowly condensed in Lynn's hand.
Seeing this, the scout leader's face filled with terror.
He nodded frantically, unable to speak a word.
Lynn snapped his fingers. The frost on the hooves melted instantly as if it had never existed.
Escorted by a dozen wildlings with fearful, awed gazes, Lynn's group was invited into this massive wildling camp.
They passed through countless hostile and curious stares, through those chaotic but vibrant "streets."
Finally stopped before a tent—the largest, sewn together from various giant beast furs.
At the tent entrance stood two burly Thenns wielding massive battle axes.
From inside came faint lute playing and low singing.
The scout leader went in to report, then quickly emerged.
He bowed to Lynn, posture extremely humble.
"The King-Beyond-the-Wall... will see you."
The singing stopped.
A voice came from inside the tent.
"Let them in."
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