"Argh!"
Blue flames were released by the undead Viserion, with the Night King sitting atop, holding an ice spear.
Rhaegal dodged the attack and breathed fire at the Night King's ride, which also dodged and closed the distance between them.
They tried to tear at each other with their claws.
But Rhaegal was at a disadvantage since his undead brother didn't feel pain.
"Argh!" he howled in pain as the claws finally reached his wings.
It seemed luck was on their side as the biggest one finally arrived.
Drogon entered the battle and released his flames.
Looking at her third son's situation, Daenerys was definitely not happy.
Feeling her emotions, Drogon didn't hesitate and joined Rhaegal in the attack.
As the Night King finally fell from his ride, Rhaegal also descended.
The injuries he sustained made him unable to continue fighting in the sky.
Jon held on tightly during the fall.
When Rhaegal reached the ground, he didn't land properly he just collapsed.
Drogon too descended but didn't land.
Daenerys saw that the Night King was still alive, completely uninjured.
'Dracarys,' she commanded, and Drogon unleashed his flames on the Night King.
The surroundings were engulfed in fire, the heat distorting the air.
But soon, she saw him emerging from the flames unharmed.
'How?' she muttered, disbelief etched on her face.
Jon moved toward the Night King, determination in his every step.
The Night King raised his hands, and then the nightmare everyone feared unfolded.
Corpses began to rise, their lifeless eyes glowing an eerie blue. They turned their attention to Jon, swarming toward him as he pushed forward to confront the Night King.
"Dracarys," Daenerys whispered, her voice resolute.
Drogon understood her command, unleashing a torrent of flames that tore through the advancing dead. The force of the fire reduced many to ash, but the situation grew worse.
Viserion returned, his undead form diving toward Drogon. The impact sent Drogon crashing to the ground, forcing Daenerys to cling tightly to him.
Just as the tide seemed to turn against them, Rhaegal, having recovered from his injuries, reentered the fray.
With Rhaegal drawing the attention of the undead and providing Daenerys a chance to dismount, Drogon regained his footing and roared, flames blazing as he pressed the offensive.
Some nearby Unsullied rushed to protect their queen, forming a defensive line around her as the chaos unfolded.
Daenerys glanced toward Jon, who was nearly overwhelmed by the relentless swarm of wights.
"Help him!" she commanded, her voice cutting through the noise.
The soldiers hesitated for a moment, torn between protecting Daenerys and following her command. But the Unsullied quickly obeyed, breaking formation and moving toward Jon, cutting through the wights with precision to reach him.
GOODSWOOD
The wights charged relentlessly, their numbers growing with every step. But the defenders around Bran held their ground, striking down each creature that approached.
The swordsmen stood firm at the front, blades flashing with each swing, while the archers behind them unleashed a steady volley of arrows. Theon fought fiercely, his every strike a promise to protect Bran, who stood silently in the center of their formation.
But the defenders were losing ground. One by one, they began to fall, their strength no match for the unending tide.
Then, without warning, the wights stopped.
They didn't retreat or falter. Instead, they formed a perfect circle around the defenders, their movements unnervingly precise.
The archers continued firing until their quivers were empty, but the circle remained unbroken.
"What's happening?" Theon muttered, his grip tightening on his weapon as he stared at the eerie circle of wights.
"He's here," Bran said calmly from behind, his voice heavy with meaning.
Theon's eyes widened at Bran's words.
In front of him, the dead began to part, making way for the Night King, who now stood at the head of his army.
"You are a good man. Thank you," Bran said, his calm gaze fixed on Theon. Theon understood his time had come.
But he wasn't afraid. He had done everything he could to redeem himself.
"Attack!" he shouted, rallying the soldiers. They charged into the horde, swords slashing through the undead.
Some were pulled into the swarm, while others were overwhelmed by sheer numbers. Even Theon didn't get the chance to reach the Night King.
With no one left to defend him, Bran sat alone as the Night King slowly advanced.
The two stared at each other Bran unflinching, the Night King focused on his ancient enemy. No one could tell what Bran was thinking.
The Night King unsheathed the sword on his back, the icy blade glinting ominously. As he turned to strike, he was abruptly interrupted.
"Looks like I'm just in time," John said, stepping through a glowing portal created with Caliburn.
Without hesitation, John hurled dragon glass bombs at the Night King's generals, ensuring no distractions as eash of them start falling and breaking.
Controlling the fire nearby he made a big claw to destroy the horde.
Many others died which were controlled by generals.
All of this happened as he blocked the Night King's sword mid-swing.
Using Aard, John pushed the Night King, sending him sprawling to the ground before he rose again.
For John, defeating the Night King wasn't difficult, especially after acquiring the Ryo template. What he truly wanted was to see if his opponent had some kind of special ability or attack.
But he was disappointed when the Night King simply came at him again with his sword.
"Tch, what a waste," John muttered. He knew dragging this out would only lead to more lives being lost at Winterfell.
In an instant, John teleported. Though his current range was limited to just four meters, it was more than enough.
Before the Night King had a chance to react, John appeared in front of him and swung his blade.
The sword slashed cleanly through the Night King's neck.
As soon as the blade made contact, the undead king began to crack and shatter, his form crumbling to the ground in a cascade of ice and death.
Soon, the rest began to fall the dead following their king, collapsing one after another.
"I didn't know much about you," Bran said from behind, his voice calm but clear enough for John to hear.
"If you did, I would be surprised," John replied before opening a portal to the castle.
Stepping through, he emerged at the top, overlooking the battlefield below. Corpses were scattered everywhere those who had died to protect others.
He scanned the area but couldn't sense Roberta.
Walking past wounded soldiers, he made his way inside. It didn't take him long to find her, leaning against a wall, her face and clothes smeared with blood.
John could tell she wasn't seriously injured. With a Jason template, he didn't need to touch her to know.
Still, he pulled out a blue potion as he approached.
"Drink this," he said, handing it to her.
She didn't ask questions and drank it without hesitation.
After finishing, she murmured, "I was thinking it tasted like…" but stopped mid-sentence.
"What is it?" John asked, though he already had an idea.
"It just felt… good. What was that?" she asked, glancing at the empty container.
"Something I have in limited supply," John replied, sitting beside her and pulling out a bottle of wine.
"Have you decided?" he asked after taking a sip and handing her another bottle.
Roberta knew exactly what he was asking.
" I.."