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SHING! SHING! SHING!
In the Great Hall, from every aisle, every exit, every corner!
Hundreds of Frey soldiers drew their swords in unison!
The bright blades reflected the flickering torchlight, gleaming with cold bloodlust.
They turned the hall into a cage of steel and teeth!
At the same time, the massive oak doors of the Great Hall were slammed shut and barred!
BOOM!
That sound cut off any hope of escape and shattered the last illusion of safety in the hearts of the Tully family.
"Ah!"
A Tully lady screamed in terror, her mouth quickly clamped shut by her husband.
Panic spread through the Tully tables like a plague.
"Walder Frey! You god-forsaken bastard!"
"Fuck you!"
Brynden "Blackfish" Tully's eyes bulged with rage.
He flipped the table in front of him and drew his sword.
Goblets and plates shattered on the floor with a harsh crash.
But the moment he stood up, the world spun, and a violent cramp seized his gut!
"Guh—"
A mouthful of black blood sprayed from his lips onto the white tablecloth, shocking to behold!
"The wine... the wine is poisoned?!"
Brynden dropped to one knee, propping himself up with his sword.
His weathered face was etched with disbelief and fury.
He looked at his nephew Edmure, at the Tully bannermen collapsing one by one, their faces twisted in agony.
They had all drunk that so-called "wine of reconciliation"!
"Lysa!"
Brynden used every ounce of his strength to lift his head.
His bloodshot eyes locked onto the woman at the high table, whose face was a mask of malice and madness.
"You... you poisonous bitch!"
"You would slaughter your own kin?!"
Edmure Tully also collapsed to the floor.
His body convulsed violently from the poison, his handsome face distorted by pain.
He looked at the family member who used to act spoiled in his arms, the one he used to carry on his back through the gardens of Riverrun, and his eyes filled with endless sorrow and despair.
He never dreamed of this.
Blood, family... in the face of the lust for power, they were so fragile.
She truly wanted to destroy House Tully!
Lysa Arryn watched it all and let out a hysterical cackle.
"Haha... HAHAHAHA!"
Her laughter echoed through the hall, piercing and mad.
"Kin?"
"From the moment you chose to stand with that bastard, you were no longer my kin!"
She pointed a finger at Brynden, then at Edmure, and finally landed on Catelyn.
"You are all my enemies!"
"Today, every single one of you dies here!"
Walder Frey's rat-like face was also piled high with a smug grin.
He reveled in this feeling of holding life and death in his hands, enjoying the sight of these high-and-mighty lords struggling like dying fish before him.
A Red Wedding?
No, this was Walder Frey's coronation!
From today on, the entire Riverlands would belong to House Frey!
"Do it!"
Walder shrieked the order.
"Kill them all! Leave no one alive!"
The Frey soldiers raised their butcher knives, grinning savagely as they closed in on the defenseless Tullys.
The shadow of death covered the entire hall.
However, in this moment of utter despair and tension.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
A clear, rhythmic applause suddenly rang out.
It wasn't loud, but it struck everyone's heart like a hammer.
It instantly drowned out the ominous tune of The Rains of Castamere and silenced Lysa's mad laughter.
The music stopped. The hall fell into a deathly silence.
Everyone's eyes—from the Freys about to strike to the dying Tullys—instinctively turned toward the sound.
The one clapping was Ned Stark.
He stood there quietly, no expression of pain on his face, no sign of poisoning.
Catelyn beside him, and the eight Northern guards, looked equally unaffected.
As if this bloody betrayal before them was nothing more than a boring farce.
There was even a playful smile on "Ned Stark's" face.
He clapped as he slowly stepped forward.
"Brilliant. Truly brilliant."
His voice still carried Ned's deep, magnetic tone.
"I have lived many years, but this is the first time I have seen such... stupid betrayal."
Lysa's laughter cut off abruptly, her expression freezing.
Walder Frey's smug grin turned rigid.
"You... you people... why aren't you poisoned?!"
Lysa pointed at Ned, shrieking in a voice that didn't sound human.
The poison was a variant of the Tears of Lys, her final trump card!
Colorless, odorless, instant death!
Even a dragon should be dead if it drank that!
So why?!
Why were Ned Stark and his family completely fine?!
"Poisoned?"
"Ned Stark" laughed.
The corner of his mouth curled into an arc full of mockery and disdain.
And in that moment, his voice underwent a terrifying change.
It was no longer Ned's deep baritone.
It became younger, clearer, carrying a lazy magnetism.
"With that cheap little trick of yours?"
That voice!
THAT VOICE!!!
Why did Ned's voice change?!
Who is he?!
Lysa Arryn felt the blood freeze in her veins!
"You... who are you?!"
Lysa's voice trembled violently with extreme terror. She backed away step by step, as if seeing a ghost.
"Me?"
The smile on "Ned Stark's" face grew brighter, and colder.
He walked forward step by step, his pace relaxed and leisurely.
For every step he took forward, the surrounding Frey soldiers with their sharp blades instinctively took a step back.
An invisible fear radiated from this man, suffocating the entire hall.
"Haven't you been wishing for my death, my dear... Lady Lysa?"
When the words "Lady Lysa" came out of his mouth in that mocking tone, Lysa's mental defenses completely collapsed!
"No... impossible!"
"You're Lynn!"
"You're in the Eyrie! How can you be here!"
Lynn laughed.
He raised a hand, and under the bulging eyes of everyone in the room, grabbed his own chin.
Then, he pulled!
RIP—
A soft tearing sound.
The rugged, grim face of Ned Stark was peeled off like a painting!
Under the mask was a young, handsome face wearing a wicked smile!
It was Lynn!
Time seemed to stop.
Space seemed to freeze.
The musicians didn't dare play The Rains of Castamere anymore.
You could hear a pin drop in the Great Hall.
Walder Frey's mouth hung open, his beady eyes filled with utter shock and disbelief.
The goblet in his hand slipped and shattered on the floor. Crash!
The Frey soldiers were petrified, frozen in place. Their swords felt like they weighed a thousand pounds; they couldn't lift them.
Lynn smiled.
"Oh, I forgot to tell you."
"My dragon flies very fast."
The Tullys, who had been in despair, momentarily forgot their pain, staring dumbfounded at the miracle unfolding before them.
Ned Stark... was Lynn in disguise?
Then... what about Lady Catelyn?
Beside Lynn, "Catelyn" raised a hand and peeled off her mask too.
Revealed underneath was the cold, statue-like face of a dead man.
And that wasn't all!
The eight "Northern guards" behind them moved in unison, tearing off their disguises at the same time!
"AHHH—!!!"
"THEY'RE ALL FAKE!!!"
A scream of pure terror finally broke the deathly silence.
A cowardly Frey soldier, mentally broken by the hellish sight, threw down his sword and turned to run.
But he barely made it two steps.
A blue blur flashed.
SPLAT!
A head flew into the air!
The headless body ran a few more steps on inertia before collapsing with a thud.
Blood didn't even have time to spray; it was frozen instantly at the neck stump by extreme cold.
The killer was a White Walker.
It slowly retracted the ice blade condensed from thin air, its blue eyes showing no emotion.
As if it had just crushed a bug.
"Run?"
Lynn's voice, like a demon from the Seven Hells, whispered in every Frey's ear.
"Did I say you could run?"
He looked around at the Frey soldiers, whose legs were shaking so bad they could barely stand.
His smile was demonic.
"Lord Walder Frey," Lynn's gaze finally landed on the old man slumping in his chair.
"You said earlier... it was time to send the guests on their way?"
Lynn walked toward the high table step by step.
Behind him, the nine White Walkers moved with synchronized steps, distributing antidotes to the poisoned victims.
"Ser Brynden."
"To let you truly feel the depths of Lysa's malice, I had to resort to this plan."
"You've suffered."
"This is a gift a friend named Jaqen gave me before he left."
"It's worth mentioning."
"This friend of mine knows how to brew the poison you took."
"But, he also knows how to make the antidote."
"And coincidentally, the gift he gave me just happens to be these antidotes."
"Alright, enough talk. Now, it's my turn."
Lynn walked right up to Walder Frey, looking down at him.
"I also want to send a few guests... on their way."