Ice and Fire: Conquering the World Starting from the Wall

Tormund stood up for Jon only because he was ordered by Mance, but now that Mance is looking for him, Tormund naturally won't stop him.

Ygritte helped him up, then complained:

"He's bleeding! He looks like a pig being slaughtered. Look what Oriel did to that pretty face!"

Do birds hold grudges?

Jon thought about how he had killed the wildling Oriel, but heard that a part of him remained inside the eagle, now looking at him with cold, malevolent eyes.

"I'll go right away," Jon replied, his eyes drifting toward the severed hand.

Ahead lies the Fist of the First Men. He had originally hoped that Elder Bear would lead his elite rangers in a surprise attack on the savage army, and then finish off Mance, or perhaps Lynn Morningstar, or even his dragon.

They numbered three hundred men, half of whom rode strong warhorses and were well-equipped.

The dragons continued to fly in the sky, and the savage army was no longer mixed with the elderly, women, children, and livestock carts as before; instead, it resembled a real army.

The Rangers were no longer able to cause chaos and casualties through their charges, which left Jon in despair.

Do something, sever my palm!

He shouted in his heart:

Even just saying something would be helpful.

But Colin remained motionless, simply sitting atop that somewhat comical swathe-donkey and watching coldly.

Blood kept flowing into his eyes, and his cheeks burned with pain. He touched them, and his gray gloves turned red.

He couldn't figure out what had happened to Colin with the "severed hand," but he was convinced that Colin would never surrender, and that was enough.

"Please bring the horse."

Jon pleaded softly with Ygritte. What he really wanted was Ghost, not the horse, but the direwolf wasn't with him; he was probably hunting deer miles away.

As he approached, his mount swerved away in terror, clearly frightened by the blood covering his face.

Jon calmed it down with gentle words and a stroking motion, then he grabbed the reins and mounted the saddle.

The violent movements made his head spin.

Jon Snow first opened and closed his burned right hand for a moment, then grasped his long claws, turned his horse, and rode toward the Bone King and his army.

He saw Dingdang Shirt whispering something to Lynn Morningstar, while Severed Hand followed behind Lynn.

This was the closest they had ever been since their capture, and Jon's heart grew heavier as he saw the missing leg of the other man.

At this moment, Ygritte also mounted her horse, her expression serious.

"I'll go too."

"roll!"

The Bone King looked disgusted, and the bone armor on his chest clanged.

"Free men can go wherever they want!" Ygritte retorted sharply.

The cold wind blew snowflakes into Jon's eyes, and blood froze on his face.

"Are we going to waste time talking nonsense or just leave?"

He said, panting.

The Bone King glanced at Lynn and saw him nod.

"Then let's go quickly!"

So they ran quickly, the atmosphere very gloomy.

The group rode for two miles through swirling snowflakes, following the tracks left by the clan's supply train, then crossed the Milk River, splashing through a jumble of abandoned tents and broken sleds.

Here, the Ruhe River makes a large bend to the east, forming a shallow beach covered with a thin layer of ice.

The snow was falling heavier and deeper on the east bank, and the wind was colder as night was about to fall.

But through the wind and snow, Lynn could see the huge white hills towering above the forest.

Early People's Fist Peak!

It really does look like a fist, rising abruptly from the earth and forests, with the hillside covered with scattered rocks.

A sharp cry came from overhead as it swooped down to escape the dragon's harassment. The riders silently circled around to the south slope, a more convenient route up the mountain.

Lynn saw the dead horse at the bottom of the hill, half-buried in the snow, its intestines spilling out of its abdomen like a group of frozen snakes, and one of its legs was missing.

Unlike wild animals, which would first tear open their bellies to eat the warm, soft, and nutritious internal organs before eating the meat.

Next, they saw more horse carcasses scattered on the hillside, their limbs twisted and their eyes wide open and empty.

The clan soldiers, in groups of several, attached themselves to the animals, stripping off the saddles, reins, and armor, leaving no piece of steel, leather, or horseshoe untouched.

They then cut them open with knives and axes, keeping the edible parts, while the horse hides were peeled off and left to dry. Some people were rummaging through the packages, looking for weapons and food.

Lynn and his men dismounted outside the wall and squeezed through the crooked passage between the stones.

Colin followed behind them, leaning on a wooden stick and limping, but with a stern expression. Lynn noticed that blood was also seeping from his broken leg.

A bushy brown warhorse was stuck on a sharpened wooden stake; it wanted to break out, not break in.

Inside were more horse carcasses and worse conditions, with blood and snow mixing together and congealing into pink ice crystals.

There was no trace of the rider.

Some tents still stood at the far end of the camp, where they found Mance Red.

Beneath a black wool cloak patched with red thread, Mans wore black chainmail and rough fur breeches, with an iron helmet adorned with raven wings on each side.

Jarl and the dog-headed hama were with him, as was Valamir, surrounded by wolves and shadow lynxes, while the snow bear was nowhere to be found.

Mance gave Colin a cold, brooding look, then turned to Jon in the crowd: "What happened to your face?"

Ygritte said, "Oriel wants to gouge out his eyes."

"I asked him, 'Have he lost his tongue? Perhaps he really should, so he won't lie to us anymore!'"

Jarl fiercely drew his long dagger: "This kid doesn't need two eyes. Gouging one out might make him more sensible."

"Do you want to save your eyes, Jon?"

The King of the Frontier asked.

"If you want to, confess quickly, how many of them there are. Try telling the truth this time, you Winterfell bastards."

Jon's throat was dry. "My lord... what's wrong..."

“I’m no adult,” Mance said, “and the ‘how’ couldn’t be clearer. Your brothers are dead, and I ask you, how many were there?”

Jon's face throbbed with pain, making it difficult for him to concentrate.

He dared not look at the severed palm, even if he only needed to slightly move his eyeballs.

You've already done enough with a broken palm, and even died once because of it. You can't ask for too much. This time, you have to rely on yourself.

Jon told himself that.

No matter what I ask you to do, you are not allowed to disobey; you must do it in accordance with my orders!

These were the orders from the man with the severed hand, but the words stuck in his throat.

He forced himself to say it.

"We have a total of three hundred people."

"Us?" Mans retorted sharply.

"They...they have three hundred men."

You are not allowed to disobey any orders you are given...

This was clearly an order to cut off my hand, so why do I feel so cowardly?

"Two hundred came from Black Castle, and one hundred came from Shadow Tower."

"This is quite different from the story you told in the Guardian's Hall." Mance looked at the dog-headed mammoth. "How many horses did you find?"

"More than a hundred," Hamma replied, "nearly two hundred. There are also dead horses to the east, covered by snow, which I didn't include in my count."

Behind her stood her brother, Halke, who was also her standard-bearer, holding a dog-head pole with the dog's head still fresh and bleeding.

“You shouldn’t have lied to me, Jon Snow,” Mance said.

"I...I understand."

What else could he say?