The command tower of Winterfell was colder than usual.
Wind, carrying fine snow particles, seeped through the arrow slits, landing on Jon's black cloak, melting instantly into water droplets, which were then frozen into tiny ice by the cold air inside the tower.
He leaned on the stone railing, his gaze fixed on the snowfield to the north—a vast expanse of white that now shimmered with a pale blue mist.
Faint, fragmented sounds emanated from within the ice mist, like countless withered bones dragging across the snow, chilling one's spine even from half a mile away.
"That's no ordinary mist," Daenerys's voice came from behind him.
She wore gilded and silver-inlaid dragon scale armor, the black dragon emblem on her shoulder plates gleaming coldly in the torchlight.
Drogon's reins were clutched in her hand, the black dragon resting on the plaza below the tower, its exhalations forming white mist in the snow.
"It's the ice mist brought by the Night King, it can freeze arrows and make the wights move faster."
Illyrio stood on the other side of the command tower, holding a rolled-up defense map, his fingertip repeatedly tracing the marked line of "Snowblind Valley - The Trench of Fire Oil - City Wall."
He had just come from the oil depot beneath the city wall, his cuffs still stained with black asphalt.
Hearing Daenerys's words, he looked up and added, "The ice mist will weaken the temperature of the flames.
The burning time for the oil we tested earlier was half an hour, but now it will probably only last for three quarters of an hour.
We need to have the soldiers prepare backup oil barrels in advance, and immediately replenish the first fire wall once it weakens."
Jon nodded, turning to look at the soldiers below the tower—the Unsullied were lined up along the city wall, their dragonglass spears pointing obliquely at the ground, the spear tips glowing a dark green in the ice mist;
the Dothraki Riders' cavalry was gathered on both sides of the city gate, their scimitars wrapped in oil-soaked linen, ready to be ignited into fiery blades;
Arya, with her elite squad, guarded the entrance to Snowblind Valley, her black leather armor almost blending with the mist.
Suddenly, a long, drawn-out horn blast came from the north, its sound muffled by the ice mist, yet striking everyone's heart like a heavy hammer.
That was the signal from the soldiers at the foremost outpost—the vanguard of the Others had arrived.
Jon abruptly drew longclaw, the valyrian steel sword flashing with a cold gleam in the torchlight: "My command! First line of defense soldiers, take your combat positions! Archers, nock your arrows, aim at the wights at the edge of the ice mist!"
The messenger responded and ran down the stairs.
The horn sounded again, this time with a rapid rhythm, echoing over Winterfell.
Daenerys gently patted Drogon's neck, and the black dragon let out a low growl, its wings slightly spread, the wind it created sweeping away several snowflakes from below the tower.
"Drogon and Rhaegal will cover both sides of the The Trench of Fire Oil," she said, looking at Illyrio with a look of confirmation.
"Can we use your 'dragonflame ignition' tactic now?"
"Wait a little longer," Illyrio's gaze fell into the ice mist, where vague shadows were already visible—wights were surging forward in droves, some wearing tattered Night's Watch black, others still with fragments of their former armor, their blue eyes flickering like will-o'-the-wisps in the mist.
"Wait until they enter the range of the The Trench of Fire Oil, then have the dragons breathe fire.
The oil is mixed with dragonglass powder, and dragonflame can turn the flames green, making them burn more fiercely and preventing the Night King from extinguishing them with magic."
Jon watched the wights, his fingers unconsciously tightening on the sword hilt.
He remembered the first time he saw wights beyond the Wall; those things feared no pain, no death, and only dragonglass and valyrian steel could kill them.
Now, the surging wights were ten times more numerous than back then, like a blue tide, encroaching upon Winterfell.
II. Green Flames and Deployment Before the The Trench of Fire Oil
"They've reached the The Trench of Fire Oil!" a soldier's shout came from below the tower.
Jon leaned down to look, only to see the foremost wights had already stepped into the dug The Trench of Fire Oil, the black oil covering their ankles, yet failing to halt their advance—their feet had long been frozen solid, and they felt no stickiness from the oil.
"Light the fire!" Illyrio roared, his voice cutting through the howling wind.
The soldiers below the city wall immediately lit their torches and threw them into the The Trench of Fire Oil.
With a "boom," green flames instantly shot up, reaching two zhang (about 6.6 meters) high, like a green wall of fire, blocking the wight army on the other side of the ditch.
The wights caught by the flames let out piercing screams, their bodies writhing in the fire, yet not immediately falling—the ice mist had weakened the flame's temperature, their bones slowly blackened in the fire, but they still struggled, trying to climb over the fire wall.
"Drogon, Rhaegal!" Daenerys raised her arm and shouted towards the sky.
Drogon below the tower was the first to take flight, his black wings cutting a shadow through the ice mist, breathing orange-red dragonflame that landed precisely on the green fire wall.
The dragonflame met the dragonglass powder in the oil, and the green flames instantly became fiercer, their temperature soaring.
The wights that had been struggling were instantly incinerated to ashes, their bones crackling in the fire, quickly turning into piles of black dust.
Rhaegal also took flight, his green dragonflame landing on the other side of the The Trench of Fire Oil, burning back the wights attempting to bypass it.
The two dragonflames intertwined with the fire wall, forming a thicker fire barrier.
The ice mist slowly dissipated under the high temperature of the flames, revealing the dense ranks of wights behind—they were still surging forward endlessly, as if they would never be depleted.
"Archers, shoot the wights trying to bypass!" Jon commanded, his longclaw pointing to the east side of the The Trench of Fire Oil, where several wights were climbing along the rocks by the ditch, attempting to cross the fire wall.
The archers on the city wall immediately adjusted their angles, nocking dragonglass arrows onto their bowstrings, and the "whoosh, whoosh" of arrows echoed in the wind.
The dragonglass arrow precisely struck the wights' hearts, and those things instantly stopped moving, falling from the rocks into the The Trench of Fire Oil, where they were quickly consumed by the green flames.
Illyrio, however, frowned as he looked at the flames in the The Trench of Fire Oil—though the green flames were fierce, they were also consumed quickly.
After only a quarter of an hour, the height of the fire wall had already dropped by half.
"Not enough oil!" he told Jon and Daenerys, "We need to have the reserve team bring up the backup oil barrels and pour another layer along the The Trench of Fire Oil, otherwise, in another quarter of an hour, the fire wall will be breached by the wights."
Jon immediately turned to the messenger and said, "Have Grey Worm take two hundred Unsullied to transport the backup oil barrels from the west side of the city to the The Trench of Fire Oil, quickly!"
Daenerys, however, shook her head: "No, Grey Worm's Unsullied must guard the city gate, they cannot move."
She looked at Illyrio, "You mentioned burying 'trigger-activated oil pots' by the The Trench of Fire Oil before, can we use them now?"
"Yes, but someone needs to trigger the mechanism," Illyrio said, "The mechanisms are on both sides of the The Trench of Fire Oil, requiring soldiers to run over and pull ropes to tip the oil pots.
But now the ditch is surrounded by wights, it's too dangerous for soldiers to go over."
"I'll go," Arya's voice suddenly came from below the tower.
Jon looked down to see Arya riding a black horse, needle in hand, followed by five soldiers from her elite squad, all holding dragonglass short-blades and carrying tinder for lighting fires at their waists.
"I'm familiar with the terrain around the ditch, I can get to the mechanisms."
"No!" Jon immediately refused, "It's too dangerous, there are too many wights, you'll be surrounded."
"I won't be," Arya's voice was firm, "I can get in and I can get out.
You need someone to trigger the mechanisms, otherwise the fire wall will break."
Illyrio looked at Arya, then at the increasingly low flames in the The Trench of Fire Oil, and gritted his teeth: "Let her go.
I'll have the archers on the city wall cover her; as long as she can get close to the mechanisms, we can hold the fire wall."
Daenerys also nodded: "Drogon will follow her and help her fend off the wights."
As she spoke, she patted Drogon's neck, and the black dragon let out a responsive roar, its wings flying towards Arya's direction.
Arya said no more, clamping her legs against the horse's flanks, and the black horse, like a black lightning bolt, charged towards the The Trench of Fire Oil.
Drogon followed above her, dragonflame occasionally landing near her, burning back approaching wights.
The archers on the city wall also concentrated their fire, shooting arrows at the wights around Arya, carving out a path for her.
III. Peril and Collaboration by the Mechanism
The three people on the command tower watched Arya's figure intently, their hearts in their throats.
Jon's hand remained on his sword hilt, his knuckles white from gripping; Daenerys's hand, clutching the reins, also trembled slightly, each time Drogon breathed fire, she worried it might accidentally harm Arya;
Illyrio, meanwhile, stared at the mechanism locations on both sides of the The Trench of Fire Oil, calculating in his mind Arya's arrival time—he had to ensure the soldiers were ready to replenish the oil the moment she pulled the rope.
"She's at the east mechanism!" Illyrio shouted.
Arya was seen jumping off her horse, needle in hand, she swung it, piercing the heart of a wight attempting to ambush her, then quickly ran behind a rock, which was precisely the location of the east mechanism.
She reached out, grabbed the rope, and pulled it back forcefully—with a "clatter," the oil pot hidden behind the rock tipped over, and black oil flowed along the ditch into the The Trench of Fire Oil, the green flames instantly shooting up again.
"West side! She's going to the west side!" Jon's voice carried a hint of excitement.
After Arya pulled the east mechanism, she didn't stop, immediately running towards the west mechanism.
There were even more wights on the west side, with several giant wights lumbering towards her, each step causing the ground to tremble slightly.
Drogon immediately swooped down, breathing dragonflame onto the giant wights, but it couldn't incinerate them instantly—the giant wights had thicker bones and were covered in thick ice, requiring more time to burn through.
One of the giant wights reached out to grab Arya, its massive hand bringing a cold wind, about to seize her.
"Rhaegal!" Daenerys shouted, and Rhaegal immediately changed direction, his green dragonflame blasting onto the giant wight's arm.
That arm was instantly burned off, falling into the snow, and quickly turning into a pile of black ash.
Arya seized the opportunity to run to the west mechanism and pulled the rope again.
Another oil pot tipped over, and the flames in the The Trench of Fire Oil became even fiercer, covering the entire ditch, preventing the wights from approaching further.
They could only howl on the other side of the ditch, not daring to take another step.
"She's back!" Illyrio breathed a sigh of relief.
After Arya triggered the mechanisms, she immediately jumped onto her black horse and, under Drogon's cover, raced back towards Winterfell.
Although her leather armor was stained with a lot of black oil and her face had a few scratches, she was, fortunately, unharmed.
Jon watched Arya safely return inside the city gates, finally letting out a sigh of relief, and turned to Illyrio, saying, "The The Trench of Fire Oil is temporarily held, but wights are still coming endlessly.
We need to find a way to reduce their numbers, otherwise, we'll eventually be worn down."
Daenerys also nodded: "While Drogon and Rhaegal's dragonflame is powerful, they also need rest and cannot breathe fire continuously.
Moreover, the Night King hasn't appeared yet; he's definitely waiting in the back, looking for an opportunity to ambush us."
Illyrio walked to the map, his finger stopping at the "Winterfell Crypts" location: "Bran said the Night King's target is him because he can see the past and future.
The Night King wants to kill him to prevent him from changing destiny.
If we can lure the wights near the crypts, let Bran use Greensight to disrupt their movements, and then have the dragons breathe fire, we might be able to eliminate a large number of wights at once."
"But there are many elderly, weak, women, and children in the crypts; we cannot let the wights get close," Jon immediately objected.
"We have already settled them in the deepest part of the crypts and assigned the Night's Watch to protect them; we cannot put them in danger."
"I have an idea," Daenerys suddenly spoke.
"I can have Drogon and Rhaegal breathe fire near the crypt entrance, forming a ring of fire to lure the wights into it.
Bran can use Greensight inside the fire ring to disrupt them, which will neither harm the people in the crypts nor eliminate the wights."
Illyrio's eyes lit up: "This idea is feasible.
But someone needs to go to the crypts to inform Bran, get him ready, and also have the Night's Watch strengthen the defense of the crypt entrance to prevent wights from breaking through the fire ring."
"I'll go," Jon said, "I'm familiar with the crypt routes and can communicate with Bran.
You two stay here and continue to command the defense; once I notify you, immediately have the dragons breathe fire."
Daenerys nodded: "Be careful, Jon.
The Night King might already be watching the crypts; don't let him ambush you."
Jon acknowledged, then turned and ran down the command tower, heading towards the crypts.
Daenerys watched his back disappear at the stairwell, then turned back to Illyrio: "We must hold this place until Jon and Bran are ready.
Whatever happens, we cannot let the Night King get close to Bran."
Illyrio nodded, his gaze returning to the The Trench of Fire Oil—the green flames were still burning, the wights were still lingering on the other side of the ditch, and occasionally a few attempted to charge across, only to be shot down by archers.
But he knew this was only the beginning of the Others' attack; the real battle was yet to come.
The Night King had not yet appeared, nor had the Ice Dragon shown itself.
They had to be fully prepared to counter this catastrophe that could destroy the world.
IV. The Fire Ring at the Crypt Entrance and Waiting
The torches on the command tower were replaced again and again, and the snow fell more heavily, evaporating instantly upon contact with the green fire wall.
Daenerys occasionally looked up at the sky, worried that the Ice Dragon would suddenly appear—the Ice Dragon's dragonflame could extinguish ordinary flames and even freeze dragonglass; once it appeared, their The Trench of Fire Oil defense would be completely ineffective.
Illyrio, meanwhile, continuously adjusted the defensive deployment.
He had some archers relocate to the city wall near the crypts, preparing in advance for the fire ring defense at the crypt entrance; he also divided the Dothraki Riders into two teams, one remaining at the city gate, the other going to reinforce the The Trench of Fire Oil, to prevent wights from bypassing from either side.
"Jon sent word; Bran is ready," the messenger ran up the command tower, panting, "He's waiting in the plaza at the crypt entrance, and the Night's Watch has already set up a dragonglass arrow formation around the plaza, just waiting for our dragons to breathe fire."
Daenerys immediately raised her arm and shouted towards the sky: "Drogon, Rhaegal, to the crypt plaza!"
Both dragons took flight simultaneously, flying towards the crypts.
Daenerys and Illyrio also ran down the command tower, rushing towards the crypt plaza—they needed to command on-site, ensuring the fire ring formed smoothly and responding promptly to any unforeseen circumstances.
In the crypt plaza, Bran sat in his wheelchair, surrounded by the Night's Watch.
Jon stood beside him, longclaw in hand, his gaze vigilantly fixed on the plaza entrance.
Seeing Daenerys and Illyrio arrive, Jon immediately went to meet them: "Bran can already use Greensight to disrupt the wights' movements, but he can only sustain it for a quarter of an hour at most.
We must eliminate as many wights as possible within this quarter of an hour."
Daenerys nodded, gesturing to Drogon and Rhaegal in the sky.
The two dragons understood and began to breathe fire at the plaza entrance, orange-red and green dragonflame intertwining to form a circular fire ring, sealing off the plaza entrance.
The temperature of the fire ring was very high; snow falling on it instantly turned to water, and the rocks around the plaza were baked hot.
"Lure the wights over!" Illyrio told the soldiers beside him.
The soldiers immediately shouted at the wights outside the plaza and threw stones at them, trying to provoke them into charging towards the fire ring.
Soon, the wights outside the plaza were attracted, surging towards the fire ring, their blue eyes filled with madness.
But as they approached the fire ring, their movements suddenly became sluggish—Bran's Greensight began to take effect, their consciousness interfered with, unsure whether to advance or retreat, they could only hover outside the fire ring.
"Now!" Daenerys shouted.
Drogon and Rhaegal breathed fire again, dragonflame falling into the wight horde outside the fire ring, and the green flames instantly spread, burning a large number of wights in the fire.
Jon also led the Night's Watch in a charge, using longclaw and dragonglass weapons to stab the wights attempting to break out of the fire ring.
Illyrio, meanwhile, directed the soldiers to throw backup oil barrels outside the fire ring, making the flames burn longer and eliminate more wights.
A quarter of an hour quickly passed; Bran's face turned pale, and the effect of Greensight gradually faded.
Most of the wights outside the plaza had also been eliminated, and the remaining few dared not approach the fire ring, only howling from a distance.
"We've held it for now," Jon said, panting, walking to Bran's side and gently patting his shoulder, "You did very well."
Bran smiled weakly: "The Night King... he's watching us.
He knows our plan; next time won't be this easy."
Daenerys and Illyrio exchanged glances, both seeing gravity in each other's eyes.
They knew this was only the first wave of the Others' attack; the Night King was still in the back, and the Ice Dragon had not yet appeared.
The coming battle would be more difficult and more dangerous than now.
The snow was still falling, the green fire ring was still burning, and the plaza was filled with the smell of burnt bones.
But the people of Winterfell did not flinch; they gripped their weapons, looked into each other's eyes, and in this destined to be difficult battle, they sought the hope of survival and the strength to protect this world.