The commotion that had gripped Winterfell for days gradually subsided as the bannermen departed.
The war machine of the North had begun its slow, grinding rotation.
In seven days, it would roll south with the force of an avalanche.
In the courtyard of the Great Keep, Arya held Needle, meticulously practicing her water dancing forms.
Snowflakes dusted her hair and shoulders, but she didn't seem to notice.
Her grey eyes, however, kept drifting involuntarily toward the courtyard gate.
"Stop looking. Even if you stared a hole in the gate, you couldn't stop him from leaving."
Myrcella's voice came from behind.
She was wrapped in a thick cloak of white fox fur, holding a steaming cup of milk which she offered to Arya.
Arya didn't take it. She sheathed her sword with a touch of annoyance.
"I wasn't trying to stop him."
"Your eyes say otherwise."
Myrcella gently blew on the hot milk.
"He has to prepare his army. It's important business."
Of course Arya knew it was important business.
It was just... she had only just become Lynn's wife. Before she could even properly settle into it, he was leaving again.
Just then, a tall figure appeared at the gate.
It was Lynn.
Arya's eyes lit up instantly.
But she stubbornly turned her head away, pretending to inspect the snow on the distant battlements.
Lynn walked up to her, saw her "I'm not mad, but you'd better coax me quickly" expression, and couldn't help but smile.
He didn't speak. He just reached out and gently stroked her hair.
"I have to go back to the Gift," Lynn said.
"Mm."
Arya made a noncommittal noise through her nose.
"To bring my army."
"Mm."
"Do you want to come see?"
Arya whipped her head around, her eyes shining with disbelief.
"I... can I go?"
"You are the Lady of the Gift now."
Lynn tapped her nose.
"Of course you can."
Arya's heart skipped a beat.
Lady.
The word made her cheeks burn, but it also felt like her whole heart had been dipped in honey.
---
Half an hour later.
A dragon roar that shook the earth echoed over Winterfell.
A massive shadow engulfed the castle.
Winter's colossal body launched into the sky, the wind from his wings whipping the snow on the battlements into a frenzy.
Arya held tightly to Lynn's waist, her face pressed against his broad back.
Winter flew much faster than she had imagined. The wind cut like knives, but Lynn's body shielded her from the worst of the cold.
She peeked open one eye and looked down.
Winterfell shrank rapidly in her vision, becoming a grey stone block, then merging into the endless white plains and dark green forests.
The entire North unfolded before her eyes in a magnificent panorama she had never seen before.
This was a hundred times more thrilling than galloping on a horse!
Arya couldn't help but let out a cheer of excitement, hugging him tighter.
She felt like she wasn't just flying, but embracing the whole world.
In just over two hours, the outline of the Gift appeared on the horizon.
Arya had expected a chaotic wildling camp, full of dirty tents and scattered bonfires.
But as Winter descended, the sight before her left her utterly stunned.
That wasn't a camp.
It was a fortress of steel rising from the ground!
Centered around a black castle, countless black tents and simple wooden barracks were laid out with the precision of chess pieces.
It formed a distinct, organized military town.
Broad roads cut through it, with patrols of wildlings marching in order.
On the towering watchtowers, Lynn's three-headed black dragon banner fluttered in the wind.
At the perimeter, a wall of massive logs and ice blocks was rapidly taking shape.
Countless wildlings were shouting work songs as they stacked giant ice bricks.
These were the savage wildlings?
This was clearly a disciplined, well-trained army!
Winter landed slowly in front of the largest fortress.
Lynn had named it "Dragon's Landing."
Winter's descent caused a stir throughout the camp.
When they saw it was Lynn on the dragon's back, the commotion turned into a roar of cheers like a tsunami.
"LYNN!"
"The King-Beyond-the-Wall returns!"
Countless wildlings dropped their work and knelt toward Winter, their eyes filled with fanatical worship.
Winter landed steadily, and Lynn helped Arya down.
A woman with a fiery figure, dressed in red leather armor with a longbow on her back, strode up to meet them.
Her red hair was like a burning flame, and her eyes shone brightly when she saw Lynn.
It was Ygritte.
Behind her followed a man as burly as a bear with a great red beard.
"Lynn! You finally came back!"
Tormund Giantsbane grabbed Lynn in a bear hug that could crack ribs.
"I thought those southern women had charmed you so much you forgot where North was!"
Ygritte's gaze fell on Arya beside Lynn.
She looked the petite girl up and down—the thin sword on her back, the eyes like a wolf pup—and a playful smile tugged at her lips.
"Oho, a new woman?"
Ygritte didn't mince words.
"Doesn't look as sturdy as the deer I shot this morning."
Arya's eyebrows shot up, and her hand went to her hilt.
"Ygritte!" Lynn shot her a glare.
Ygritte shrugged but said no more.
She just walked up to Arya, leaned in close, and stared into her eyes.
Arya stared back without flinching.
Ygritte nodded.
Then, ignoring Arya, she turned to Lynn and began reporting on military matters.
Arya stood there, stunned, unsure how to respond.
The red-haired woman was rude and direct.
"Ignore her. Her mouth is the only sharp thing about her," Tormund whispered, leaning in and blasting Arya with the smell of strong ale.
Clearly, he still held a grudge about Ygritte's comments on his preferences.
"Lynn, are we going to do something big this time?"
"Muster the army, Tormund."
Lynn didn't waste words.
"I want an inspection."
"Aye!"
Tormund slapped his thigh in excitement and turned to shout orders.
The mournful sound of warhorns echoed through the camp.
The wildling soldiers, busy with their tasks moments ago, began to assemble with astonishing speed.
Arya stood beside Lynn, watching it all unfold, her heart pounding uncontrollably.
First came the infantry squares.
Five full phalanxes of a thousand men each lined up on the snowy ground outside the walls.
They were no longer the ragged mob with bone spears and stone axes.
Every wildling wore a suit of standard plate armor that gleamed in the cold light, lined with fur for warmth.
Though not the finely engraved full plate of knights, they had breastplates, pauldrons, vambraces, and greaves.
Key areas were covered in chainmail.
On their heads were enclosed helms, revealing only eyes that remained sharp in the freezing wind.
Their weapons were uniform.
The first three rows held massive pikes over five meters long, their tips forming a terrifying steel forest under the grey sky.
The men behind carried longswords at their hips and kite shields on their backs.
Arya's mouth hung slightly open, utterly shocked by this tide of steel.
She had seen her father inspect Northern armies at Winterfell.
But even the elite Stark household guard had never given her such an intense sense of oppression.
Were these really the wild, free folk?
Of course, the time to forge plate had been short, so most wildlings still wore leather.
But the rest were equipped with bows.
Those without plate served as ranged units—Lynn wasted no manpower.
And this was just the beginning.
In the future, Lynn would arm every last one of them.
"ROAAAR!"
Accompanied by deep bellows, the ground began to shake violently.
Arya instinctively grabbed Lynn's arm.
Behind the infantry squares, a line of figures so massive they defied imagination marched forward with heavy steps.
Giants!
Hundreds of them!
Counting carefully, there were about three hundred.
Each one stood over four meters tall, like moving hills.
At the front were twenty giant archers.
Their "bows" were essentially entire trees, with strings thicker than a man's arm.
The "arrows" in their quivers were like siege spears, tipped with razor-sharp steel.
Arya had no doubt that a single shot could pin a fully armored knight and his horse to the ground.
Behind the archers were thirty fully armored giants!
They wore super-heavy plate armor custom-made by Last Hearth smiths using the mountain of iron Lynn had extorted from the Lannisters.
Each plate was impossibly thick, studded with rivets and spikes.
They looked like living steel golems, wielding warhammers and maces that would take several normal men to lift.
Just standing there, their sheer, crushing presence was enough to break the morale of any opposing army.
Arya felt her breath catch in her throat.
But what appeared next completely overturned her understanding of the world.
"Mooooooo!"
A sound louder than thunder rolled across the field.
From the flank of the armored giants, fifty colossal beasts slowly emerged.
Mammoths!
Creatures of legend from the Lands of Always Winter!
They were taller than the giants.
Long, shaggy hair hung down their sides, and two curved, razor-sharp tusks gleamed with cold white light.
And these mammoths were armored too, carrying massive war platforms on their backs.
On each platform sat a giant knight wielding a massive chain flail!
Giant Mammoth Cavalry!
As the formation of fifty war beasts advanced slowly, Arya felt the earth groan beneath her feet.
She could almost see how this unstoppable cavalry would crush everything in its path on the battlefield like dry twigs.
Infantry like a forest, giants like mountains, mammoths like moving castles!
This was Lynn's army!
A terrifying force that would make all of Westeros tremble!
Arya looked up at the profile of the man beside her.
Lynn's expression was calm, as if this army capable of destroying heaven and earth was just a toy he had casually assembled.
In this moment, alongside love and admiration, a sense of unprecedented security rose in Arya's heart.
With him, with this army, what were the madmen of the Riverlands or the Lannisters in King's Landing? They were just chickens waiting for the butcher!
After the inspection, Lynn left Tormund and Ygritte to prepare the army for the march south.
He took Arya, who was still in shock, toward a heavily guarded area at the rear of the camp.
It was a cave extending underground.
A chilling air, cold enough to freeze the soul, drifted from the entrance.
"Where are we going?" Arya asked curiously.
"To show you the ace that makes us invincible."
Lynn led her into the cave.
The temperature inside was even lower than outside, with thick frost coating the walls.
Deep inside, the cave was divided into separate ice chambers.
In each chamber lay one or more bodies.
There were wildlings killed in battle, executed criminals, and even some enemy corpses Lynn had "recovered."
"What... what are you collecting these for?"
Arya felt a creeping horror looking at the peaceful or twisted faces of the dead.
Lynn didn't answer.
He walked to the center of an ice chamber where a single body lay—a wildling who had died in a brawl.
Lynn reached out, his palm facing the corpse.
"Arya, watch closely."
His voice dropped low, filled with a strange magic.
The next second, the temperature in the cave plummeted!
A stream of visible, deep blue cold energy erupted from his palm, instantly engulfing the corpse!
Frost spread across the body's surface at a frantic pace, accompanied by the tooth-aching sound of cracking ice.
Arya watched in horror as the corpse's skin turned pale and desiccated, as if all moisture was sucked out in an instant.
Lynn's face paled slightly, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.
Clearly, this process took a toll on him.
Just when Arya thought the body would be frozen into a statue, all the cold energy suddenly retracted, pouring into the corpse!
The cave returned to stillness.
The body lay there quietly, looking no different than before.
"And now?"
Arya whispered, not understanding what Lynn wanted with these bodies.
"Did it fail?"
Lynn shook his head, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Suddenly!
The corpse's eyes snapped open!
They were not the eyes of a living man!
Pupils and whites were gone.
In their place burned a deep blue flame!
Arya screamed, instinctively drawing Needle.
The "corpse"—or rather, the monster—sat up slowly with stiff, jerky movements.
It turned its neck, the bones grinding audibly.
Those eyes burning with blue fire finally settled on Lynn.
This was a White Walker, a terror to all living things. Yet Lynn showed no fear. He simply gave his first command.
"Kneel."
Without hesitation, the White Walker stiffly bent its knees and knelt heavily before Lynn, bowing its head.
Obedience. Absolute obedience.
Arya stared blankly at the impossible scene before her, feeling her worldview shattering.
A White Walker...
Lynn...
He had... created a White Walker that obeyed his commands!
Was this... right?