*
The North, Kingsroad, Moat Cailin
On the edge of the marshlands, the fortress of Moat Cailin, constructed from rough logs, stood silently, surrounded by thick mist and damp moss.
On a hill to the north of the Moat Cailin fortress, Jon, who had already transformed Dark Sister into its scepter mode, was gathering magical power.
Equipped within his scepter was the B-rank magic 'Thunderstorm', which could deliver long-range magical attacks based on the user's mana value.
Under Jon's manipulation, ripples of strange fluctuations appeared in the void, and under the influence of that bizarre power, the moisture in the area began to congregate.
In a short while, dark clouds began to blanket the sky, heavy layers rolling like they had been stained with ink, signaling the imminent arrival of a violent thunderstorm.
The Ironborn left behind in the fortress seemed to sense nature's fury as well, beginning to look toward the sky uneasily.
These Ironborn, who spent their years drifting at sea, dreaded thunderstorm weather most of all; in their eyes, this was the terrifying power of the evil sky deity, the Storm God, and a threat to all Ironborn.
At this moment, their faces were filled with tension and unease, their eyes revealing a fear of the unknown.
Some Ironborn gripped their weapons tightly, as if doing so could bring a shred of comfort, but unfortunately, even with weapons in hand, the thunderstorm in the sky showed no signs of weakening.
Others began to pray silently to their Drowned God, hoping the Drowned God's power could reach this place so that the hateful Storm God's power could not descend.
As the thunder drew closer, the electric field in the air seemed to intensify, making everyone's hair stand on end and causing goosebumps to rise on their skin.
Sensing the approaching threat, the atmosphere inside the fortress became increasingly oppressive, with the Ironborn's breathing and heartbeats sounding exceptionally clear in the silence.
They hid early under the eaves and within the rooms of the fortress, hoping these shelters could help them withstand the lightning falling from the sky.
Unfortunately, all of this was destined to be a pipe dream, for in the face of such a terrifying natural disaster, all resistance was futile.
Boom!
Suddenly, a blinding flash of lightning pierced the sky, followed by a deafening roar of thunder that exploded in everyone's ears, making the Ironborn guarding the fortress feel as if they had been struck hard by a heavy hammer.
The power was terrifying; even the fortress of Moat Cailin seemed to tremble under its force.
"Drowned God save me! Drowned God save me!"
"Shut up!"
...The Ironborn trapped within Moat Cailin instinctively curled their bodies, some even screaming involuntarily, only for their behavior to be quickly barked down by their superiors.
Fear spread among them, as irresistible as the thunderstorm that was about to rage.
Amidst the chaos and panic, an older Ironborn suddenly stepped forward, his voice firm and powerful:
"Brothers, we are the great Ironborn forged of iron and fire! The Drowned God has granted us the right to take everything! Though the Storm God's wrath is fearsome, it cannot destroy our will! The watery halls of the great Drowned God have already opened their gates for us! Face this terrible thunder bravely!"
Boom!
As if in response to the words of the Ironborn named Ralf Kenning, a terrifying bolt of lightning descended directly from the sky.
Crack...
After the lightning struck the gatehouse of the North Gate, it instantly turned an Ironborn who had poked his head out into charcoal, which also caused Ralf Kenning to instinctively shut his mouth.
"Captain Ralf Kenning! It's on fire! Should we... uh... ah!"
A minor leader, seeing the gatehouse catch fire, hurriedly rushed out and began shouting at Ralf Kenning.
This unlucky fellow never expected that his shout would attract a bolt of lightning; after a scream, he was directly charred to a crisp.
"Fire!"
Boom...
Crack...
As the fire grew larger, some Ironborn trapped on the North Gate's gatehouse also began shouting, and their cries for help somehow attracted another bolt of lightning.
Meanwhile, on the distant hill, Jon, who was summoning the lightning, saw the very little durability remaining in his magic book and directly increased his output, blasting it toward the flickering targets in the fortress.
Although the long-range attack magic 'Thunderstorm' could strike enemies from a distance, its hit rate was very low; the longer it dragged on, the greater the consumption.
Originally in the game, this magic could only target a single unit, but here, it had become a magic capable of area-of-effect attacks. However, after several attacks, Jon had only managed to strike down a few guys due to that pathetic hit rate.
No more time!
As time passed, Jon felt his powerful perception receding, a signal from his body reminding him to quickly end the casting state.
After exhausting the last few points of durability for 'Thunderstorm', Jon released his casting state, while the people behind him watched the distant Moat Cailin fortress with faces full of terror.
After the thunderclouds vanished, the entire Moat Cailin fortress looked like a harbor swept by a storm, with flames burning everywhere and broken architectural remains.
Hurrah!
With a shout from the soldiers of the Northern Allied Forces, they charged directly toward the already crippled Moat Cailin fortress, while the Ironborn inside had completely lost their will to fight.
The Northern Allied Forces soldiers charged toward Moat Cailin like tigers descending from a mountain, incredibly valiant.
Rushing at the very front of the crowd was Ramsay Bolton. He had always known Jon was powerful, but he hadn't expected him to be powerful to this extent.
In the face of such terrifying might, Ramsay felt that no castle could withstand Jon's attack.
"For His Majesty Aegon!"
"Kill!"
"Hurrah!"
"Long live the true dragon!"
...The eyes of the Northern Allied Forces soldiers shimmered with the light of victory, their hearts filled with a longing for triumph.
They knew this was a battle with a predetermined outcome; their king had already defeated the enemy, and the once insurmountable Moat Cailin fortress had become a city they could seize at will.
Meanwhile, the Ironborn within the Moat Cailin fortress had fallen into chaos, shouting loudly as some scrambled to put out fires and others searched for weapons.
Although some of them had lost their fighting spirit, they had not completely given up resistance.
These Ironborn knew very well that this was not their Iron Islands; this place was full of marshes, and if they didn't resist, only death awaited them.
"Prepare the defense, you lot!"
"Quick, quick, quick!"
"Careful! That part's about to collapse."
Under the command of officers like Ralf Kenning, the surviving Ironborn fought with all their might, attempting to withstand the onslaught of the Northern Allied Forces.
"Kill!"
The high-spirited Northern Allied Forces soldiers held various weapons. Since many parts of the walls had already collapsed, they didn't need to use any siege equipment; they only needed to walk up to the base of the walls to break directly into the Moat Cailin fortress.
Slash! Ah...
Wielding twin axes, Ramsay was the first to charge into the Moat Cailin fortress. Just as those inside prepared to face him with spears, more and more Northern soldiers poured in.
As more Northern soldiers flooded in, the Ironborn's resistance grew weaker; in the face of the Northern Allied Forces' powerful offensive, their resistance seemed so insignificant.
The battle continued for a while, and the Northern Allied Forces soldiers, relying on their firm will and excellent combat capability, gradually gained the upper hand.
Particularly Ramsay; after obtaining the system class ability from Jon, the Axe Warrior class he chose was incredibly powerful, with almost every strike killing an enemy.
The House Bolton soldiers with him were even more valiant; they were essentially beings who didn't fear death. One soldier, after being stabbed several times by the Ironborn's spears, still shouted as he knocked down an unlucky fellow.
Amidst the bravery of House Bolton, the Northern Allied Forces pushed forward all the way, driving the Ironborn into a desperate situation.
During this process, the untended fires burned even brighter, and countless Ironborn wailed as they were pushed into the flames by the Northern soldiers.
Compared to the Ironborn's fearlessness of death, these Northern soldiers were no different, especially with a numerical advantage; the Ironborn were completely outmatched.
Finally, amidst the firelight, the Ironborn's resistance was declared a failure; those who did not fear death all fell under the weapons of the Northern Allied Forces.
The remaining cowards or wounded surrendered one after another, becoming prisoners of the Northern Allied Forces.
The battle lasted about half an hour. By the time Jon entered the Moat Cailin fortress riding the Drakon, the Ironborn prisoners had already been nailed there by Ramsay using his family's unique flayed-man crosses.
"Help!"
"Don't kill me, don't kill me!"
"I've already surrendered!"
Sob...
...Under Ramsay's methods, these poor fellows felt a sensation worse than death; they were hung in rows outside the walls, waiting for the swamp creatures to arrive.
"Ramsay! Are you playing some new trick again?"
Seeing Ramsay still directing his subordinates to handle the Ironborn, Jon asked directly.
"Your Majesty Aegon! I want to show those iron scum what the consequences are for provoking the North, and for provoking you!"
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