Game of Thrones: The Wrath of the Sleeping Dragon

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Then he swung the Heartbreaker Greatsword with both hands, turned around, and cleaved a ghoul that pounced on him from behind with a single sweeping strike.

"Ho-"

However, at the same time, as he turned around, another ghoul suddenly pounced on him, grabbing Randy Tarly from behind and biting at his ear.

The man's helmet had been knocked off during the fierce battle, and his bald head was covered in blood from somewhere, his face also splattered with blood.

Then a ghoul suddenly hugged me tightly from behind, and a sharp pain shot through my ears, all the way to my brain.

The intense stimulation brought him back to his senses, and hot blood streamed down his face.

"what--"

The renowned general from the Reach let out a deep, suppressed roar, his facial muscles trembling slightly.

"Go away!"

Then he suddenly broke free from the ghoul's restraints, clenching his teeth so tightly they almost broke.

Despite the intense pain, he turned around and cleaved the ghoul who had just bitten off one of his ears in two with a single sword strike.

Blood stained half of his cheek and even flowed into his eyes, causing a stinging sensation.

Randy Tully's face was covered in blood, one eye was tightly closed, and he looked somewhat ferocious.

"Lord Tully!"

"We can't hold out here! You should evacuate!"

There were very few guards left standing beside Randy Tarly.

He grabbed his father's arm with his only remaining arm, his face covered in blood, and shouted in a hoarse voice.

To boost morale, Randyll Tarly led his guards into battle, but now, those guards who followed him into battle have all fallen without anyone noticing.

Smoke and snow filled the air, and the soldiers of the Reach were falling one after another, being pounced on by ghouls and torn apart indiscriminately, letting out shrill screams.

"Sir, it's too late! We must retreat!"

The loyal guards continued to shout loudly, their voices hoarse.

"Retreat...?"

But Randy Tarly was breathing heavily, his grip on the hilt of his sword, which was covered in sticky blood.

Even he was momentarily confused.

Even though he knew the situation was hopeless, the allied forces were backed by the civilians of the seven nations...

However, just as Randyll Tarly hesitated, a ghoul appeared out of nowhere, let out a strange cry, pounced on the guard who only had one hand left, and then opened its mouth and bit down hard on his neck.

puff--

Blood spurted out instantly, splashing onto the Earl's cheek.

Randy Tarly, who was holding the Valyrian steel sword, suddenly shivered slightly, and his mind became much clearer in an instant.

"Gibbon!"

When Randy Tarly came to his senses, he saw that his last guard had been pounced on and torn apart by ghouls.

Overwhelmed with grief, his eyes turned bloodshot, and he let out a desperate roar.

"what--"

He then raised the broken heart high in his hand and slammed it down hard.

Chapter 336 The Allied Forces' Defeat

The human alliance was defeated in the face of the White Walkers' attack.

When the Night King drew his frozen sword, and countless brave warriors who had fallen in battle rose again to join the army of the dead, the outcome was already sealed.

Human power is sometimes limitless, but at other times it is so insignificant.

Even with all one's might, one cannot change the fact that a building collapses in the face of an irresistible force.

The Allied lines began to crumble, gradually falling apart, and then, like an avalanche, they dragged down the other troops that were still holding on, ultimately leading to a complete rout.

"run!"

"Run!"

Some people were the first to throw down their weapons and run away, and others followed suit.

The supervising team was unable to stop so many soldiers from fleeing; they were instantly scattered and trampled to death.

People fled in panic, with some nobles from the seven kingdoms managing to run even faster than the soldiers.

They had already realized something was wrong, so they climbed onto their warhorses, abandoned their troops, and fled for their lives.

The commanders, who still wanted to put up a stubborn resistance, could not change the current situation no matter how much they shouted.

"It's too dangerous here!"

"Lord Tali! You should leave here first!"

With half his ear bitten off and half his cheek covered in blood, Randy Tally was helped onto his warhorse by his soldiers.

The elite Horn Hill soldiers were the best performing unit in the entire war; they were tenacious and put up a fierce resistance.

Like a reef in the ocean, it stood at the forefront of the battle line, enduring the crashing waves from all directions, attracting a large number of ghouls' attacks.

However, even such an elite force could not withstand the pressure alone and faced collapse.

The wind and snow on the battlefield grew even stronger, making it difficult to open one's eyes. The defeat of the human alliance was an unchangeable fact, and even the arrival of reinforcements could not alter the course of the battle.

"Lord Stannis!"

As one of the highest-ranking men in this war, Stannis had been present on the battlefield, but now he was helped onto a warhorse and evacuated first.

The man with sparse hair sat upright on his warhorse, his body also covered in blood, his black cloak tattered, and the sword at his waist was chipped and dulled.

Stannis turned his head one last time to look at the sparse number of Dragonstone soldiers, while fleeing soldiers were all around him.

The situation is now out of control and beyond repair.

Stannis was unwilling, but he could only flee with the soldiers.

Then he took a deep breath, pulled on the reins with one hand, and squeezed the horse's belly with both legs.

"go!"

Stannis then led a few guards and fled the battlefield on horseback.

...

"Run!"

"Run!"

On the ground, everyone is fleeing, and the situation has now become completely one-sided.

The ghouls are chasing, and the humans are running away.

wow-

And above the sky.

A jet-black crow flapped its wings and flew swiftly across the sky above the battlefield, braving the raging blizzard.

As the crow flapped its wings to fight against the wind and snow, it tilted its small, black head, its scarlet eyes seemingly looking down at the battlefield below.

Humanity was defeated.

It saw all of this.

"Help!"

"help me!"

Amidst the white, raging blizzard, countless fleeing soldiers cried out for help.

It was like a living hell.

A complete collapse of the battle line is a snowballing disaster. Being at the back is tantamount to waiting to die. If those in front run slowly, those behind can only worry helplessly and cannot escape.

Meanwhile, countless people accidentally fell, and no one bent down to help them up. Instead, they were trampled on and never got up again, crushed into a bloody pulp.

Now that the allied forces have suffered a complete defeat, everyone is in a state of panic, everyone wants to live, and everyone knows that the ghouls are chasing them.

If I stop to help my companion up, wouldn't that waste my own escape time?

This race is not a race against time, but a race against other people of the same kind, and the price of failure is death.

The crow witnessed the defeat of the human alliance, but its small, scarlet eyes remained calm and unwavering, showing neither disappointment nor joy.

After all, he was just a crow, without the emotions that humans should have.

And on the ground below.

Crows flapped their wings and swiftly swept across the sky, leaving the ground in chaos and turmoil as all humans fled, exposing the dark side of human nature.

Some killed their companions who stood in their way to escape, while others stabbed others in the thighs, using them as bait to slow down the ghouls' advance.

In such a chaotic situation, no one had time to look at the sky, and the ghouls, lacking any common sense, naturally wouldn't care about their surroundings.

But on the outskirts of the battlefield, the Night King rode on his skeletal horse, flames burning in his empty eye sockets.

He calmly surveyed the battlefield before him. The defeat of the allied forces did not cause the slightest change in his expression; in his view, these were all things that should be expected.

And at this time.

As the crow's wings swept across the battlefield, breaking through the wind and snow, the Night King seemed to sense something and suddenly raised his head.

A pair of eyes burning with fire were fixed on the pitch-black crow.

For the first time, the expression on his face changed noticeably, showing a mixture of anger, disgust, or perhaps both.

Then he let out a shriek.

The crow seemed to sense the impending doom and hurriedly flapped its wings to rise higher, flying towards an even greater altitude.

However, it was too late.