Even though all the soldiers were equipped with weapons forged from dragon glass, a surge of uncontrollable despair still welled up in Viserys' heart when he glimpsed the endless, countless Army of Ghouls outside The Great Wall.
Even if these ghouls just stood there, letting everyone hack at them, it would probably take until next year to eliminate them all.
Viserys finally understood why successive kings had so firmly believed in the prophecies of dragon dreams.
This war between the living and the dead was truly cruel to the point of despair.
The Ice Dragon soaring in the sky, its size even larger than Black Dread - Balerion, was already difficult to contend with, not to mention the numerous giant eagles and griffins assisting it.
How could a few dragons possibly withstand such a massive army?
No one present had the slightest confidence in their ability to defend The Great Wall.
Just then, Rayder, who had just arrived, hadn't even had time to greet the others.
An arrow with a piece of cloth attached suddenly shot like lightning, embedding itself directly into the ground in front of Rayder.
There were clearly words on the cloth strip. Rayder, seeing this, was about to step forward to pick it up and examine it.
However, Erlad rushed forward one step ahead, quickly took down the cloth strip, and scrutinized it carefully.
After Erlad finished reading, an inexpressibly strange expression appeared on his face.
His eyes were wide, staring intently at Rayder, as if he had seen something shocking.
Viserys noticed Erlad's unusual reaction, and a strong curiosity welled up in his heart.
He quickly stepped forward, snatched the cloth strip from Erlad's hand, wanting to see what was written on it.
When Viserys unfolded the cloth strip and saw its contents, his face instantly became identical to Erlad's, filled with shock and disbelief.
The others, seeing this, gathered around, asking in a flurry of voices what was written on the cloth strip.
Viserys hesitated for a moment, but finally handed the cloth strip to them.
Everyone passed the cloth strip around, and after each person finished reading it, a strange expression, identical to Erlad's and Viserys', appeared on their faces.
Their gazes all fell on Rayder, as if they were examining some rare and peculiar creature.
However, facing everyone's gaze, Rayder remained unusually calm; he didn't even raise an eyebrow, merely saying indifferently:
"Now that you've all read it, can I see the cloth strip?"
Viserys hesitated for a moment, but finally handed the cloth strip back to Rayder.
Rayder took the cloth strip and, upon closer inspection, finally understood why the others had such expressions—the cloth strip actually demanded that he go out and negotiate with the Cold God!
This was simply absurd; who would be foolish enough to negotiate with that legendary terrifying entity?
Without a word, Rayder threw the cloth strip into the fire, watching it turn to ash in the flames.
"You don't actually believe that nonsense, do you?" Rayder said to the crowd with a look of disdain.
Just then, a whisper suddenly came from the crowd: "Since communication and negotiation are possible, there's no harm in trying."
Although the voice was not loud, it cut through the tense atmosphere like a bolt of lightning.
Rayder's ears, like radar, quickly pinpointed the source of the remark; he immediately turned his head to look in the direction the voice came from.
However, among that group of people, he was momentarily unable to determine who had spoken those words.
Rayder's brows furrowed tightly, his gaze as sharp as a hawk's, scanning every face, trying to find a clue in their expressions.
However, everyone appeared very calm, seemingly unrelated to the remark.
Rayder's patience gradually ran out, and a hint of anger was revealed in his voice: "Who said that? Step forward!"
His roar echoed like thunder on the city wall, making everyone tremble.
However, no one in the crowd stepped forward to admit it.
Rayder's eyes gleamed with ferocity, and his words were filled with killing intent: "If you don't step forward now, I won't be polite!"
Amidst Rayder's threats, a middle-aged man wrapped in a fur cloak slowly emerged from the crowd.
His steps were steady, his face fearless, and he confronted Rayder directly, saying without flinching: "I said it. What can you do?"
Seeing this, the anger in Rayder's eyes burned even more fiercely; he suddenly drew the sword from his waist, pointing its tip directly at the middle-aged man, and sharply said:
"Now you have two choices: either jump off the city wall yourself, or wait to be run through by my sword!"
His words were resolute, leaving no room for discussion, and the sword in his hand gleamed with a cold light, as if it would stab the middle-aged man the next moment.
Facing Rayder's threat, the middle-aged man showed no fear.
He quickly drew his longsword, gripping the hilt with both hands, adopting a stance ready for battle, and responded without weakness:
"You want me to jump? Not that easy! If you have the guts, come and try!"
Seeing a conflict about to erupt, Viserys, who was nearby, hurriedly stepped forward to intervene, shouting loudly:
"Duke Terrence, and Rayder, both of you put away your swords! This won't do anyone any good!"
However, Rayder completely disregarded Viserys; he rudely interrupted Viserys' words and roared, "Get out of the way! This is none of your business!"
Rayder completely ignored Viserys' words; his steps were firm and decisive, walking straight forward without the slightest hesitation.
His movements were swift and sharp, as if he had already decided to take action.
When Rayder arrived in front of Duke Terrence, he drew his sword without hesitation.
The sword cut a cold gleam in the air, swift as lightning.
The moment the blade met Duke Terrence's longsword, there was a crisp clang, and sparks flew.
However, this brief confrontation was decided in an instant.
Duke Terrence looked at his broken longsword in astonishment, his eyes wide with disbelief.
Immediately after, his body seemed to lose its support, falling backward abruptly and landing heavily on the ground.
Blood gushed from Duke Terrence's chest, forming a large, diagonal wound.
The wound was bone-deep, and blood flowed like a spring, quickly staining the surrounding ground red.
Despite this, Duke Terrence's body, lying on the ground, still twitched slightly, as if making a final struggle.
However, such an injury, without modern medical conditions, was almost fatal.
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