(Sorry for the wrong chapter.)
Chapter 72: Injured
With a heavy thud, the giant's body crashed to the ground.
"ROOOAAAR—!"
Seeing this, Mag flew into a rage, letting out a thunderous roar.
Crack… crack…
The ground and the sentinel trees began to creak as frost rapidly spread, ice crystals forming across everything in sight.
Shhk—!
Another sharp sonic boom split the air. A white blur flashed past, followed by a string of screams. In an instant, three men were nailed to the ground.
Saelen and the others stared grimly at the fallen giant.
"Run! Move, now!"
Saelen's shout snapped everyone out of their shock. They turned and fled.
Shhk—!
Another piercing sound tore through the night.
Thud.
A free folk warrior was pinned to a sentinel tree, letting out a final scream before going still.
Then came several more bursts from the darkness. One after another, men were impaled to the ground or trees. A chill of terror spread through the survivors, and they ran even faster.
Saelen stole a glance backward. In the darkness behind them, the wights were beginning to emerge, their glowing blue eyes filled with madness.
The horde parted, opening a path.
The Night King rode forward, accompanied by four White Walker commanders, mounted on dead horses. He watched Saelen's group in silence.
Mag spotted him as well. The giant stopped mid-retreat, drew his bow, and took aim at the Night King.
Shhk—
The arrow shot forth with a sharp hiss.
Sensing danger, the Night King flicked his wrist. His ice sword came down in a precise diagonal slash, striking the arrow mid-flight.
Crack.
The arrow split cleanly in two.
The Night King fixed his gaze on Mag, who held the great bow. Without a trace of emotion, he raised his crystalline sword and pointed it from afar. With a flick of his arm, the blade whistled through the air, flying straight toward the giant.
Mag had just loosed his first arrow and was already drawing a second. By the time he noticed the incoming ice blade, it was too late to react.
Saelen stepped in.
With a powerful swing of the Ice, he intercepted the attack.
Clang!
A deafening impact rang out. A tremendous force surged through his arms, driving him backward step by step until he slammed into a sentinel tree. The ice sword was deflected off course, embedding itself into a nearby tree, its hilt trembling.
The Night King watched this silently. Then, without expression, he drew another crystalline blade from the dead horse beneath him. Raising it high, he hurled it toward Saelen with even greater force. The sword gleamed faintly as it tore through the night.
Saelen, still bracing himself against the tree and catching his breath, suddenly felt a sharp warning surge through his mind. Without thinking, he threw himself to the right.
The blade sliced past his thigh and slammed into the tree behind him.
Thud!
The thick sentinel tree groaned, cracking loudly before collapsing to the ground.
Saelen sucked in a sharp breath and looked down at his left thigh. The armor plate had been shattered, and a long crescent-shaped wound had been carved into the outer side of his leg. Flesh was torn open, deep enough to reveal bone. Fortunately, the freezing energy had sealed the wound, preventing blood from flowing, but the cold had seeped deep into his bones, biting with unbearable pain.
In the distance, the Night King no longer threw his weapon. Instead, he slowly raised both arms.
The fallen free folk began to stir.
Their eyes turned into icy blue crystals as they rose from the ground, gripping their weapons once more, their faces devoid of any expression.
"Raaah—!"
The Night King let out a piercing cry, lifting another ice sword and pointing it toward Saelen.
At once, the wight army surged forward.
Not only that—bones long buried beneath the battlefield began clawing their way out of the earth. Skeletal remains, even those of animals, dragged themselves from the soil.
One fleeing free folk tripped over a hand that burst from the ground. In the next instant, wights swarmed over him, tearing him apart. Blood sprayed as his screams echoed briefly before being swallowed by the night.
Saelen drew in a cold breath, forcing himself upright with the Ice. He reversed his grip and thrust backward, shattering a wight that had just clawed its way out of the ground. Then he turned and limped away.
But his injured leg slowed him. Every step sent sharp, piercing pain through his body. At this rate, being caught was only a matter of time.
Mag saw his condition.
With a kick, the giant sent a lunging wight flying, then stomped another back into the earth before striding over.
"Saelen."
Without waiting for a response, Mag hoisted him onto his shoulder and began to run.
Each step shook the ground with heavy thuds. Any wight that blocked their path was either crushed underfoot or kicked aside. Saelen felt the world spin as he was carried, the sentinel trees blurring past in his peripheral vision.
Mag ran through the night without stopping.
By the time dawn began to break, they reached a riverbank. Saelen estimated the river to be about five or six meters wide.
Only the two of them remained. In the darkness, without torches, everyone had scattered in different directions. Somehow, only they had ended up together.
Mag set Saelen down and tested the water. Finding a shallow stretch where the deepest point reached just his shoulders, he lifted Saelen again and waded across.
Taking the opportunity, Saelen shifted his consciousness into a hawk and soared into the sky to scout.
As expected, they had gone the wrong way.
The Black Castle lay southeast of Craster's Keep, but they had run west instead. That explained the river—this was likely a lower stretch of the Milkwater. If they followed it south, they would eventually reach the Wall and could return via the Shadow Tower.
After reaching the opposite bank, they rested briefly. Saelen, having been carried most of the way, was not too exhausted, but Mag was breathing heavily, like a bellows. With no shared language, they communicated through gestures. Saelen pointed to the river, then ahead, explaining his plan with difficulty until Mag finally nodded in understanding.
They had only just rested when movement stirred in the forest across the river.
Moments later, the opposite bank filled with wights.
The Night King stood among them, accompanied by four White Walker commanders, watching the two of them in silence.
He had locked onto Saelen.
He had pursued them all night.
Saelen didn't know whether the river could stop the wights, but he wasn't willing to take the risk. Without another moment's rest, the two of them got up and continued on.
…
Winterfell.
Eddard Stark had returned five days earlier. According to reports, King Robert would arrive the next day, and the entire castle was busy making final preparations.
That day, Eddard sought out Sansa and spoke of something he had long considered.
"Sansa, I intend to marry you to Saelen. What do you think?"
Sansa froze for a moment, then demanded angrily, "Why?"
"Why should I marry Saelen? Does Mother agree to this?"
"If you are willing, I will persuade your mother."
"No. I'm not willing." Her tone was firm.
"Why? Did your mother say something to you?" Eddard asked, puzzled by her strong reaction.
"It has nothing to do with Mother."
She hesitated for a moment, then said with determination:
"I want to marry Joffrey."