Back outside, Ygritte still leaned beside Viserys, her eyes alertly scanning the surroundings—a habit developed from her years of wildling life.
She was clearly relieved, though; seeing so many legendary creatures in a single day was pushing the limits of what she could accept.
Her gaze fell on "dark sister" in Viserys's hand, then she looked up at him, her blue eyes shimmering with complex emotions.
Hesitantly, she spoke: "Are you going to kill me?"
"No. Do I look like a bloodthirsty person?"
"Now that you've got what you wanted, where are you going next? Back to the Wall? Or south, back to your kingdom?"
Viserys looked toward the Wall. "I need to find someone first, a squad of Night's Watch Rangers. Then, we'll see. Ygritte, you have two choices. I can give you some food and set you free; you can try to find your tribe."
He paused, looking at the young wildling girl.
"Or, you can come with me. Be my squire. I'll take you south, where there is no bitter cold. You can learn new languages and see a different world. In the future, perhaps you can become a bridge between the Free Folk and the southerners."
Ygritte was stunned; she clearly hadn't expected such an offer from Viserys.
Freedom was a deep-seated belief for her. Kneeling to any king or obeying any law was an unimaginable constraint.
But "the South" and "no bitter cold" held a lethal attraction for her. She had grown up in the dangerous environment Beyond the Wall, where death could strike at any moment.
the South, in the legends she'd heard, was a place flowing with honey and milk, containing the most beautiful fantasies from her stories.
Moreover, she had just been abandoned by her companions without hesitation. If she went back now, those who left her might kill her outright to protect their reputations.
After hesitating for a while, she looked up at Viserys. "I... I don't know. I am of the Free Folk. I kneel to no one."
"I don't need you to kneel," Viserys said. "I just need you to stay by my side and work for me. That way, you can earn food and shelter through your own labor, just like you did Beyond the Wall, as long as you don't harm innocent people. How about it?"
Ygritte bit her lower lip, struggling internally.
Ultimately, her longing for the warmth and fantasies of the South, along with her curiosity about the mysterious "king" and his incredible dragon, triumphed over her rigid obsession with "freedom."
"Fine, I'll go with you," she whispered, as if afraid the gods Beyond the Wall or her ancestors beneath the earth might hear.
But she quickly added a condition to her decision: "But this is only temporary. If I don't like the South, I hope you won't stop me from coming back."
Viserys took a piece of jerky from his pack and handed it to her. "Eat this on the way." He had overturned their camp earlier, and she hadn't brought food in her haste, plus they had walked quite a distance.
Ygritte took the jerky and began devouring it in large bites. Viserys had never seen such a sight; after all, whether in his past life or this one, the women around him lived in places where food and drink were never lacking.
The two returned to where Ghidorah was waiting. Seeing the golden dragon, Ygritte couldn't help but marvel again. Viserys had her sit behind him, securing them together with a belt, then mounted Ghidorah and took to the sky, flying in the direction Benjen's squad had headed.
At first, Ygritte screamed in terror, clutching Viserys tightly, seemingly forgetting they were already tied together.
Soon, however, the shock of flight and the magnificent view of the land below made her forget her fear, leaving only excitement. The gale whipped her red hair, but she kept her eyes wide, greedily watching the forests, mountains, and icy rivers flash by beneath them, as if trying to etch it all into her mind.
Eventually, they found the Ranger squad not far from Castle Black. Although Benjen and his men were rushing as fast as possible, horses had their limits.
No one asked why Viserys had returned so quickly—hadn't he said he was going ahead to scout? But no one had the courage to ask.
Viserys broke the silence himself, taking the initiative to provide some information, including that a man named Mance Rayder was traveling Beyond the Wall, trying to unite all the wildling tribes.
He also mentioned Ygritte, saying she was a prisoner he'd captured and that she had provided this information. This led the Nights Watchmen to quickly accept the wildling girl, as she looked harmless enough.
After three days of travel, the group arrived at Craster's Keep, planning to rest there.
Viserys found this part of the original series somewhat speechless; someone like Craster could actually be a friend to the Nights Watch, even if their excuse was providing a place for members to stay during expeditions.
He had to admit that in this part of the plot, only the "White Walker Slayer's" performance was worth watching, though Sam was indeed a bit too "clumsy."
He recalled some speculations he'd seen regarding Craster's identity.
Some said he was the bastard of a Stark Nights Watchman and a wildling woman, which was why the Nights Watch turned a blind eye to his actions. After all, the Nights Watch now relied almost entirely on House Stark for support.
These speculations weren't groundless; they actually made some sense. The children Craster sacrificed could be turned into White Walkers by the Night King.
And the other White Walkers, including the Night King, seemed to be of House Stark. At least the dozen or so White Walkers in the original series—the ones wearing armor—all bore the Direwolf sigil. The rest were the bare-chested ones who had just been turned.
Craster was standing at the entrance of the keep with an axe, looking sourly at Benjen's group as they prepared to stay the night. However, when he saw Ygritte also on horseback, a strange glint flashed in his eyes.
For this mission, Benjen and his men had brought two horses per person, so they spared one for Ygritte. After all, Ghidorah had a temper; it had been agreed that only Viserys would ride it, and it was already good enough that it occasionally gave him face.
Craster was about to say something out of line, but at that moment, Ghidorah descended from the sky. Its wings folded as it crashed into the ground, making the entire keep tremble.
Startled, his axe fell to the ground with a "clatter."
This man, who had always ordered the Nights Watch around and wouldn't even look them in the eye, now stood with his mouth agape and eyes wide. His women were also peeking out from the cracks in the door, letting out muffled gasps.
Then, Craster saw a figure descend from the back of the three-headed beast.
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