[Chapter Size: 2200 Words.]
Third Person POV.
Riverlands.
...
...
When Daemon announced his words, the entire place began to shine.
With the very oxygen freezing in thousandths of a second before a white layer appeared on each of the atoms around them, turning into pure ice, which soon became damp and frozen, becoming snow.
Like an explosion without warning, all the Frey outside the magical barrier could only see the detonation hitting them with force, with the sound of thunder almost destroying their eardrums.
Suddenly, a storm began inside that entire communal hall, destroying windows and breaking down doors, starting to freeze everyone, while many were thrown by the wind without any resistance.
There were only screams and the sound of the cutting wind mixed with snow, soon muffling everything. The place turned into a violent blizzard that drowned out everything.
Those who were inside the magical barrier only saw Daemon roar his words like thunder before the explosion appeared around the entire hall.
The Freys were immediately thrown into a never-ending hell, something that not even the worst storms beyond the Wall could reproduce in the eyes of the free folk. This made even Val, Ygritte and the others, accustomed to Daemon's inexplicable powers, shrink back as they looked in horror at all that snow outside the shield, swirling and making even the barrier itself tremble.
Daemon looked satisfied at the snow swirling around. The Frey, in the midst of all that chaos, didn't stand a chance. Unlike the enemies, Daemon had prepared his group with winter clothes; they had received special training beyond the Wall. They were prepared for that climate — that was why Daemon had chosen exactly those men. He had demonstrated this tactic long ago, although on a smaller scale: a group capable of entering any castle and negotiating… and, if the negotiation failed, responding in kind.
The chaos continued for a while, and Daemon let the storm keep doing its work outside the barrier, which had already lasted two minutes, beginning to weaken it.
"Attention, everyone! When the storm ends… well, you know what to do. Total massacre. They'll be weakened by the storm. Easy targets. No one is to survive," said Daemon, his voice cutting through the air.
His men responded immediately, striking swords and shields with force; those who had no shield struck their blades against the stone floor of the hall.
Daemon watched them for a moment, then quickly drew Dark Sister from the space and materialized it in his hand, wielding the weapon that would be best for dexterity. He looked at his companions and began casting large-scale spells.
As an archmage of the School of Alteration, he first cast an enchantment for everyone to gain resistance to the cold. Then he strengthened their defense by creating Dragon Skin, making 80% of the damage nullified for the entire group. Afterwards, he cast spells he himself had developed when he was commander of the army: everyone's blades became sharper; their strength and dexterity also increased.
He also cast an Illusion spell over the group, increasing each one's courage.
Lastly, he raised the sword when the wind finally began to die down.
"Prepare yourselves!" exclaimed Daemon.
He also used the Nordic ability Fury, and in that moment, the entire group entered a state of euphoria, preparing to charge at anything that moved in front of them and wasn't wearing a fur coat.
As soon as the shield dissolved along with the snow, Daemon advanced, and his men followed him shortly after. They found a scene covered in snow; men were curled up on the ground, shivering from the cold and staring in fear. Nothing in the hall had been able to protect them from the winter Daemon had unleashed upon them.
They only saw Daemon approach the first one, cutting off his head while the man was still curled up.
It wasn't the most honorable way to kill someone, but they had already prepared a cowardly ambush against Daemon and his men. Why should they show mercy?
"Kill them all!" roared Daemon.
Immediately, the Frey who had just come out of that torment, something they had never seen in their entire lives, looked on in terror as twenty men charged toward them, advancing through the snow spread throughout the place. They could barely move; the cold had paralyzed their bones.
Screams of agony and pleas for mercy echoed before the sound of flesh being cut. There was no pity. Val advanced, cutting down Frey as she passed, Nightfall slicing throats like butter in her hands. Daemon eliminated several more before glancing upward, where the crossbowmen trembled from the cold. Many tried to flee through the other entrances from where they had come.
Daemon raised his hand and made seven of them float into the air, their eyes wide with terror, but unable to do anything except be lifted by his power. When Daemon closed his hand, all of them had their necks snapped at once, dying instantly.
Soon his gaze returned to the main table. There was no sign of Walder Frey there anymore. He might have been dragged by the wind… or not, fled… Daemon activated his magical eyes before blinking them back to normal, then smiled and moved toward the table, ignoring the sounds of begging around him as his men continued slaughtering those who couldn't even defend themselves.
He circled the table and found Walder Frey. Daemon didn't even need to act: the old man was lying on the ground behind the table, trembling from the cold, on the brink of death. How could a repulsive plague like that live any longer, with such a fragile body after exposing himself to that storm without preparation? His eyes quivered as he lifted his gaze to Daemon approaching, terrified.
Daemon smiled slightly. "Well… it seems this is your end, Walder Frey. In the end, you were foolish enough to think you could truly deal with me," Daemon said calmly.
Without wasting any more time, he pierced the old lord's neck. Walder Frey choked on his own blood, his eyes shaking with pure terror as he stared at Daemon, who watched him with complete indifference.
There was nothing but necessity in killing that old creature.
When Daemon released his sword, Walder Frey was already dead. His gaze then swept across the entire hall, now filled with corpses—something that had happened in that place before, but this time it was the Frey who populated the massacre.
He looked toward the bridge above the main table, where the archers whose necks he had snapped had once stood. His hands glowed, and he cast upward; Oblivion portals began to open. Fire atronachs materialized there.
"You know what to do," Daemon said with a gleam to the summoned creatures.
The flaming beings quickly began to move through both sides, entering the two doorways and attacking the archers who had fled or any enemy they found.
Daemon then began conjuring more Conjuration spells, summoning two ice creatures—none other than ice atronachs, almost as large as giants, made entirely of ice rock. They advanced toward the central doors, ready to massacre any Frey soldier.
Daemon also summoned lightning atronachs; the floating rocks crackling with electricity spun around the creature made only of stone and lightning, then advanced toward one of the side entrances.
His intention was to cause chaos and divide the Frey, while he and his group would advance through the tower, slaughtering everyone they encountered—and it would be easier, since the Frey would be more concerned with the creatures than with Daemon himself.
"Let's go. Follow me," Daemon said, advancing toward one of the entrances.
His twenty unharmed free folk men roared, following behind him as they finished off the last survivors inside that hall. The place was completely dead, filled with corpses.
One of the soldiers, shortly before the chaos began, had been looking toward the direction where Daemon and the wildlings had entered moments before. He was still trying to comprehend everything that had happened there. At first, it seemed that Daemon had entered to negotiate, and most believed he would be captured, since the king of the wildlings was too confident to dare enter the Twins like that. Everything seemed normal… until the explosion inside the hall came.
The guards who had remained outside the communal hall and had not participated in the ambush already knew of the trap Walder Frey had set; however, the snow explosion caught them by surprise as all the hall's windows burst outward with snow blasting through them with terrifying force, as if a hurricane had been summoned inside.
And it seemed that the entire tower began to tremble with that storm. Everyone was terrified, unable to understand what was happening.
The chaos only increased when they heard screams as soon as the storm ended. The guards continued shaking, imagining what was happening inside, but soon after, flaming creatures, ice monsters the size of giants, and other rocks wrapped in lightning were killing men in the hallways.
Everyone only screamed upon seeing the creatures advancing toward them, and no one knew what to think.
The guards ran in search of command and to know what had happened inside the hall, but upon reaching one of the entrances, the door burst open with force.
There stood a man, ahead of twenty others, staring at them with fierce eyes. The Frey immediately realized that something was not normal and prepared for battle.
"Attack the bastards! That one who calls himself Daemon Targaryen will not leave here alive!" shouted the boldest of the Frey guards, trying to raise morale as he charged forward with his men behind him — after all, there were only twenty of them.
However, as soon as he got close, he didn't even have time to react. Daemon was already upon him, moving his hand and decapitating him before the body even collided with the other Frey soldiers. His men followed, shouting, raising their weapons against the group of guards.
It was chaos. Soon men were clashing against one another, trying to gain ground. It was twenty against eighty there, but that didn't stop Daemon's group from fighting fiercely and even gaining the upper hand — the fight was unfair, but for the enemies.
The wildlings continued massacring the Frey, and more groups began joining the fight against Daemon. This made the Dragon react when he saw the numerical disadvantage was far too great.
He roared his magical words in the dragon language once more, and another explosion of snow spread outward, striking more than a hundred enemy soldiers, while Daemon protected himself and his group from the cold without needing to raise another shield. Just like in the communal hall, all the Frey were overtaken by the storm, curled up and trembling before being slaughtered.
"Let's move on to the next group," Daemon said when the last enemy fell.
He kept advancing, without needing to use his dragon voice against smaller groups. When the enemies insisted and were too numerous, Daemon used his Thu'um abilities to weaken them.
They continued like this for some time until the first tower was completely conquered. Only servants, women, and children survived, staring in horror at all the carnage that had taken over the entire tower. Daemon moved on with his men still unharmed. They had cuts and a few bruises, but no one was truly injured.
They left the tower and crossed the river to the second one. That side already knew what had happened: the sounds of battle, death, and destruction echoed from the first tower, where almost the entire Frey family now lay nearly wiped out.
The twenty men were now approaching to finish the rest. There was no negotiation; there would be no mercy. No one in the other tower had survived, and in this one, it would be no different.
Daemon raised his magical shield, and his men followed right behind him. All arrows and bolts fired at them were useless, bouncing off the shield. When they got close enough, Daemon unleashed his shout:
"Fus Ro Dah!"
The explosion knocked down the iron doors, and the soldiers inside panicked upon seeing the small group now invading the second tower.
In the Northern camp, sounds of battle echoed from the second tower. Shouts spread, drawing everyone's attention. Small explosions erupted from the fortress where Daemon had entered.
When he broke down the gates of the second tower with his roar, the army stationed behind it — the North, the free folk, and the men of the Stormlands — began roaring together, overtaken by euphoria as the small group conquered the Twins on their own.
Ten minutes later, everything was over. The drawbridge opened so that Daemon could be welcomed by his army, accompanied by his men, exhilarated. They had just conquered the Twins, and more than that: they had massacred everyone who wasn't a woman or child of the Frey family, eliminating every family member and soldier without mercy.
The Twins were now a graveyard for their former lords, with bodies scattered everywhere, ready to allow a massive army to cross the river and finally advance through the Riverlands.
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