The tent was silent enough to hear a pin drop.
Only the crackling of burning wood in the fire pit and Tormund's pained gasping on the ground.
Every wildling—including the "king" who'd sat motionless—stared at Lynn like he was a monster.
They'd imagined many possibilities.
Lynn refusing. Lynn being forced to fight and getting beaten to death by Tormund's fists.
But never this.
One punch.
Just one punch.
Tormund—a war god in their minds—had been thrown like a sack of trash by this southerner.
This isn't human strength!
Jon Snow's palm was slick with cold sweat on his sword hilt. He stared at Lynn's back, throat working involuntarily.
Ygritte's grey eyes were completely filled with shock, fanaticism, and obsession.
Lynn kept shattering her understanding. Kept delivering soul-shaking surprises.
"Kill him!"
A hoarse roar shattered the suffocating silence.
The impostor "king" at the head—the Lord of Bones.
His armor made of countless bones rattled.
He shot to his feet, drawing a battle axe made from some unknown beast's leg bone.
"All of you—attack! Kill him!"
His roar was a command, instantly igniting the other chiefs' savagery.
They were free folk. The most untamed warriors beyond the Wall.
Fear only made them more vicious!
"ROAR—!"
A bald Thenn closest to Lynn bellowed, swinging a massive stone hammer at Lynn's skull!
Other chiefs drew weapons, attacking from all sides!
They didn't believe this southerner could withstand them all!
"Lynn!"
Jon cried out, sword clearing its sheath, about to help.
"Don't move."
"I'm enough."
Lynn didn't even turn around.
Absolute cold erupted with Lynn at its center!
The tent's temperature plummeted!
The fire pit's flames shrank. Even the light dimmed.
Countless tiny ice crystals formed in the air like dancing ghosts.
Crack—crack—
Crystalline frost spread at visible speed from Lynn's feet, rapidly covering his entire body!
First his boots. Then calves. Chest. Arms...
Finally, a vicious frost mask covered his face, leaving only black eyes exposed!
Full body armor—as if carved from ten-thousand-year ice—appeared from nothing!
Ancient, mysterious runes flickered across the armor, radiating heart-stopping blue light.
The stone hammer whistling toward Lynn's head was about to strike.
The bald Thenn's pupils filled with confusion and shock!
He could feel terrifying cold—enough to freeze souls—radiating from that armor.
His blood felt like it was freezing!
BANG!
Lynn gave him no time to think. Backhanded elbow to the chest.
The bald man grunted, flew backward, crashed down, instantly losing combat ability.
Then—
Lynn's hands formed grips.
Two massive swords—taller than a man, broad-bladed, also made of ice—condensed in his hands!
"Now. My turn."
The voice came from behind the cold mask.
Lynn moved.
Dual-wielding, he charged the terrified wildling chiefs!
CLANG!
One chief instinctively raised his iron axe to block.
But that axe—capable of splitting shields—shattered like fragile glass the instant it touched the frost blade!
The crisp shattering sound was especially harsh in the silent tent!
The chief stared blankly at the half-axe handle in his hand, mind blank.
Even if his weapon was trash, breaking to pieces from one touch?
Lynn gave him no chance. Sword turned, broad flat side slapped his face hard.
"Next."
Lynn's figure wove through the crowd like a tiger among sheep.
His dual swords—each swing bringing cold air and the crisp sound of shattering weapons.
CLANG! CRACK! BANG!
Bone spears, stone axes, iron swords...
These weapons—deadly in wildling hands—were fragile as children's toys before Lynn's frost blades.
One touch and they exploded into countless fragments!
One chief after another was slapped down by the sword flats, losing all ability to resist.
Lynn didn't kill.
He didn't want corpses. He wanted submission!
This fight was never even close.
The Lord of Bones watched, madness replaced by endless terror.
Lynn slowly turned, those black eyes locking onto the final "king."
"Your turn."
The Lord of Bones let out a desperate shriek.
He raised his massive bone axe, using every ounce of strength, and chopped at Lynn!
Lynn didn't dodge. Didn't even block.
He simply let the bone axe slam into his chest armor.
CRACK—!
A sound crisper than any before.
The axe made from beast bone broke in half.
Lynn's frost chest armor didn't even have a scratch.
The Lord of Bones completely collapsed.
He threw down the broken handle, losing all will to fight.
How can you fight this? Not even the same level.
The battle was over.
In the entire tent, besides Lynn, Jon, and Ygritte, not one person stood.
Lynn's frost swords slowly dissipated into blue light, melting into the air.
His frost armor also fell away like melting snow, piece by piece, finally vanishing completely.
As if that crushing battle had been a hallucination.
"Urgh..."
A pained groan came from the tent's corner.
Tormund rubbed his aching chest, shakily sitting up.
He looked blankly at companions lying everywhere, clutching broken limbs and wailing. Then at Lynn standing in the center, completely unharmed.
Finally, his gaze fell on the Lord of Bones sitting paralyzed on the ground, courage completely shattered.
"Fuck..."
Tormund's big face showed an incredibly complex expression.
He finally understood what happened.
This pretty southerner beat down all the tribal chiefs. Alone!
He spat bloody saliva, wobbled to his feet, walked to Lynn.
Tormund stared at Lynn intently, chest heaving violently.
The tent's atmosphere tensed again.
Everyone thought this unyielding Giantsbane would charge again.
But—
Tormund did something completely unexpected.
He bent down, picked up the horn cup he'd thrown earlier, walked to the ale barrel, filled it to the brim.
Then he walked to Lynn and held out the horn cup.
He grinned, showing yellow teeth. The smile carried some embarrassment.
"You won."
Though he'd lost, he showed the purest free folk honor.
"From today, I, Tormund, follow you."
"You tell me to stab a giant's ass, I won't even fucking frown!"
This scene stunned the other chiefs struggling to their feet.
And Mance Rayder—silent through it all, watching everything—finally stood.
Surprise on his face, he walked slowly to Lynn and extended his hand.
"You've proven your strength."
"Free folk follow the strong."
"Now tell me, Lynn..."
Mance looked into Lynn's eyes, speaking deliberately.
"How do we deal with the Night's Watch on the Wall?"
"Can you really convince them to open the gates for us?"
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