Game of Thrones: The Wrath of the Sleeping Dragon

In the darkness, the sounds of armor scraping against each other echoed everywhere, footsteps were rapid and hurried, and screams were heard. Soldiers from various families, fleeing from the front lines in disarray, had abandoned their armor and weapons.

"escape!"

"Run away!"

Meanwhile, the central army remained silent, like a stubborn rock, standing ready and sharpening their swords and spears to meet the enemy.

"Everyone, move to both sides!"

"Those who charge shall die!"

Lord Roose Bolton of Dreadfort rode on his warhorse, whip in hand, and loudly rebuked the fleeing army.

As more and more soldiers collapsed at the front, the Allied soldiers in the center of the formation gradually became tense, gripping their weapons tightly, their palms sweating.

"They...are coming soon."

The howls of the ghouls grew clearer and clearer in the ears of the Allied soldiers.

Although the view ahead was obscured by the white snow, the sound was gradually approaching, and the invisible fear was intensifying. Countless people swallowed hard.

Gollum—

The soldiers exchanged glances and saw the fear in each other's eyes.

Tap tap...

Meanwhile, Roose Bolton's warhorse became restless, constantly fidgeting with its hooves. A cold wind was blowing, and white mist was billowing from the horse's large nostrils.

Meanwhile, the ruthless and cunning Earl of Dreadfort, feeling the biting cold wind and hearing the sounds of battle all around him, suddenly became restless in his saddle and involuntarily turned his head left and right.

Then his brows furrowed slightly.

He always felt that someone was watching him, seemingly with ill intentions, but with so many people on the chaotic battlefield, he couldn't find that person.

Is it just my imagination?

Roose Bolton gently pulled on the reins, calming his warhorse, and his calm, unwavering eyes swept over the surroundings.

In fact, no matter how terrifying the battlefield was or how horrible the White Walkers were, he was not in much danger, because the nobles in these allied forces would always leave first if they found that the situation on the battlefield was not right.

This is why, even now, the highest-ranking noble to die in the war is the old Marquis Walder Frey of the Twins, who was so frightened that he jumped into the river and died.

Records of high-ranking nobles dying in battle are extremely rare. There was one in the Westerlands, Jon Umber, and another one... I can't even remember who it was, Roose Bolton.

Therefore, he had nothing to be afraid of.

Even if Westeros were destroyed, he could simply escape to the other side of the Narrow Sea. He had also invested in a fine son with Viserys, his bastard son Ramsay Snow.

In recent communications, he also learned that Ramsay had been given an important position by Viserys, a post that oversaw internal affairs, something like the 'Minister of Internal Affairs'.

It's probably about purging...corruption? And monitoring all officials?

There was no such independent position within the Seven Kingdoms. Intelligence matters, both internal and external, seemed to fall under the management of the Minister of Intelligence. However, the New Dynasty separated this authority to prevent the Minister of Intelligence from monopolizing power.

Therefore, Roose Bolton was also unaware of the exact situation of his illegitimate son Ramsay with Viserys.

However, one thing is certain: Roose Bolton never took Ramsay seriously. He was just his illegitimate son, a pawn he used to hedge his bets on both sides.

The heir to the Dreadfort was a young talent far surpassing Ramsay. Unlike his father and brother, Domilik Bolton was very quiet and versatile, well-versed in history, skilled in the harp and horseback riding, as if he were born for the saddle. Roose Bolton was very pleased with his son.

Unbeknownst to Roose Bolton, in the darkness of the night, two soldiers clad in royal armor were not far from his position in the Allied forces' central ranks.

They were watching the back of the Earl of Dreadfort riding on horseback, whispering among themselves, their eyes gleaming with malice.

Meanwhile, on the front lines.

After the Night King extinguished the wildfire, the wights surged across the Green Fork River once more, and the frontline soldiers could no longer hold out and finally collapsed completely.

Lord Thomas Smallwood, Earl of Oakhall, was killed instantly. Lord Selwyn Tars, Earl of Twilighthall, who had proposed defending the river at the pre-battle meeting, was torn to pieces by the wights. Leonard, the eldest son of Lord Gavin Westerling, Earl of Cliffrock, fell into the water and his fate remains unknown...

There seemed to be some ominous signs. The nobles, who had suffered few casualties in previous major battles, were now experiencing a sudden increase in casualties in this war, which may be related to the war becoming increasingly intense.

Meanwhile, Randyll Tarly, the commander of the vanguard, was once again helped onto his horse by his guards and fled to the rear.

Randy Tarly, covered in blood and with his armor tattered, sat on his horse, panting heavily. He turned back unwillingly to look at the ever-growing number of ghouls surging onto the banks of the Green Fork River.

Why do I say "again"?

This wasn't the first time he had run away. He had been defeated in his previous battles against the White Walkers, and he had experienced this scene of being helped onto a warhorse by guards and fleeing several times. A victorious general had been turned into a defeated general.

But there was nothing he could do; the allied forces had collapsed, and he alone was powerless to reverse the situation.

"go!"

Then Randy Tully squeezed his legs together and lay down on the horse's back, his tattered armor making a creaking sound.

He fled to the rear with the routed troops.

Chapter 416 An Unexpected Upheaval

The front-line soldiers were completely routed, while the main force of the allied forces in the middle was on high alert.

"Everyone!"

"Prepare to engage the enemy!"

Robert Baratheon, the king of the Seven Kingdoms, was clad in heavy black armor, with a crowned stag with mane bristling on his chest and a helmet as black as ink on his head.

Tap tap...

His horse's hooves kicked up dust and snowflakes as he rode his tall horse, surveying the allied forces' ranks. The heavy hooves pounded the ground as he spoke in a booming voice.

"Raise your shields!"

wow-

With the king on either side of the allied forces, the soldiers' morale was naturally even stronger, and countless shields were raised high to block in front of them.

The three Royal Guards following behind the King were also mounted on warhorses, wearing white armor without family crests, their snow-white cloaks fluttering in the wind.

"The king does resemble some of his former self."

Barristan Selmy, captain of the Kingsguard, watched Robert's retreating figure and spoke while holding the reins with one hand.

Robert was once tall and mighty, with a generous personality, and was known for his unparalleled bravery throughout the Seven Kingdoms. He was the dream lover of countless young women. However, after winning the crown, Robert became overly addicted to wine and women, which destroyed his body and spirit.

However, Barristan believes that Robert has regained some of his former self under the influence of the White Walkers.

The other two Imperial Guards were accompanying the captain.

Ser Manden Moore sat silently on horseback, while Ser Marin Tran gave a silent sneer, then glanced at Barristan's back and narrowed his eyes slightly, seemingly lost in thought.

The shadow of a decisive battle looms.

The dawn had not yet broken; only a faint glimmer of light appeared on the horizon.

However, the various characters within the Allied Forces, each with their own hidden agendas, are endlessly fascinating to watch. In contrast, the ghouls are united as one, without a single distraction, fighting to destroy the entire world and annihilate all life.

Splash...

Countless defeated front-line soldiers fled from both sides of the central formation. The figure of the front-line commander, Randyll Tarly, also passed by. He lay on his horse, his fate unknown, letting his horse run wild and fleeing into the darkness without looking back.

Robert saw the other person and for some reason felt a slight unease.

But Robert could no longer hesitate. As the number of defeated soldiers at the front increased, the shrouds following behind them were howling louder and louder, and the heavy footsteps made the ground beneath the feet of the Allied soldiers tremble slightly.

Rumbling--

Robert's gaze pierced through the snowstorm, and the endless, dark army of the dead finally surged forward.

"coming!"

Robert gripped his warhammer tightly, and countless Allied soldiers swallowed hard, tightening their grip on their shields or spears.

next second.

boom--

Like a heavy tank charging in, a huge impact and the sound of bones shattering followed.

"what--"

Several Allied soldiers were thrown high into the air, screaming as they landed behind them.

Amidst the army of the dead, a gigantic ghoul mammoth charged into the allied ranks.

Half of its head had been hollowed out, as if it had been gnawed off by something, revealing rotting flesh that emitted a foul stench. Only one eye remained, its eerie blue light filled with bloodlust and madness.

One of the long tusks of the ghoul mammoth was broken in half, but it still tore apart the seemingly unbreakable formation of the allied forces with overwhelming force.

On the back of the mammoth sat a white-haired, white-bearded Otherworlder clad in ice armor. His gaze was fixed on Robert Baratheon in the center of the Allied forces, and he emitted a piercing sound as if ice were cracking.

Then, wielding the Frost Sword, he spurred his mammoth to charge directly at Robert.

He recognized Robert as possibly being the king of these humans, and decided to capture the king first if he wanted to capture the thief.

Countless ghouls followed behind him, frantically charging the allied forces' lines.

And at this time.

Bang!

With the sound of a bowstring snapping, a spear mounted on a giant crossbow was suddenly launched, emitting a sharp whistling sound as it cut through the air.

The obsidian spearhead was pointed directly at the white-haired Otherworlder sitting on the back of a skeletal mammoth.

"Go to hell!"

The faces of the allied soldiers who were in charge of operating the giant crossbows were filled with a mixture of vengeful pleasure and utter hatred, which even became distorted, their hearts completely filled with hatred.

He was a soldier in the North, whose homeland had become a ghost town. His mother had died in the North and may have become one of the wights, while his wife died from a snake bite on the Neck Causeway during their escape south.

However, he was just an ordinary person, a tiny microcosm of this unfortunate era, and there are many, many more people like him who have suffered injustice.

An ordinary Allied soldier controlled a giant crossbow and fired a spear. The spearhead, made of dragon crystal and filled with hatred, easily pierced the chest of the White Walker.

These dragonglasses were among the first batch mined by the Targaryen family after they occupied Dragonstone, and were transported to the front lines to be used to make weapons.

The white-haired, white-bearded Otherworlder riding the wight mammoth still wore an expression of disbelief, seemingly unable to believe that he, who had lived for so many years, would be killed so easily by humans.

bang——

It then burst into countless shards of ice, which fell to the ground and disappeared completely from the world.

Only his mount remained, its rotting trunk and heavy forelegs raised high, emitting a terrifying roar.