The night was deep. After confirming the existence of the secret passage, the exhausted group didn't continue forward but climbed up to the wellhead to rest for the night.
Early the next morning.
They finally passed through the face carved into the rock.
Behind the face was a long, narrow, and slowly ascending underground tunnel.
Step by step, they approached the surface. The light ahead gradually changed from the size of a grain of rice lying horizontally to a crescent moon, then the sun, and finally the whole world.
They walked directly into the Haunted Forest.
Benjen turned his head and looked around. "The trees grow so fast. Are they already this close to The Wall?"
The Night's Watch had never allowed a single tree within a thousand meters of The Wall, but outside this abandoned Nightfort, the Haunted Forest was about to spread to the foot of the castle walls.
Joffrey saw countless Weirwood trees.
As expected of a place where crows roost, there are too many eyes.
He sighed, then leaned against a Weirwood, his head tilted back against the bark, scanning the countless images flooding into his mind.
Someone had been here, and not just people.
A Night's Watchman searching ahead urgently shouted, "Head! There's a lot of blood on the ground here, and the bodies of our brothers!"
Benjen turned and took two or three steps into the forest. The other Night's Watchmen followed.
The routine is old, but it works.
Joffrey mounted Rain. "Uncle, Jon, let's go take a look too. Be careful, everyone."
The scene was gruesome.
At first glance, it was hard to tell how many bodies there were. They were many large and small pieces of flesh, abandoned in the white snow and frozen into colored ice.
"At least five good men!" Benjen's voice was low as he made his assessment.
Tyrion frowned and asked, "Is it normal for our black-clad brothers to be killed here?"
Nightfort had been abandoned for two hundred years, and the location of the bodies was not far from the secret passage entrance. Tyrion smelled a conspiracy. Is Bloodraven really still alive?
A Night's Watchman picked up a head with a stiff expression. "I know him! He took blows from Instructor Alliser's stick with me and was later sent to reinforce the Shadow Tower. He's from the Shadow Tower!"
Another black-clad man said, "Perhaps they were a patrol team sent out by the Shadow Tower, chased by Wildlings and fled here."
"More likely they met Wildlings who had just come out of the secret passage."
Another Ranger was eager to act. "Our brothers were killed not long ago, at most three or four days. The Wildlings definitely haven't gone far. We're on horseback, so maybe we can catch up in a day or two!"
Benjen was silent for a moment, then hesitated, consulting the Crown Prince. "Does Your Highness want to retreat back inside The Wall first?"
Heh, what a question to ask. Who could still have the nerve to say they want to go back now?
Joffrey understood Benjen's decision.
After all, he's the First Ranger. How could he back down when faced with trouble? But these Night's Watchmen's statements are so consistent, not a single one suspects a trap?
Joffrey glanced at the Rangers who had spoken earlier. "Let's go together. Wildlings are nothing to fear."
The Rangers used their best skills, searching for faint traces on the vast white snow, and actually discerned the movement tracks of living people.
The group quickly headed northwest.
Progress was smoother than expected. In less than half a day, they discovered the Wildlings' open-air camp.
Benjen lay prone on the snow behind the slope, observing silently.
At Benjen's request, Joffrey took Tyrion and Jon and hid in the woods behind to avoid alarming the enemy prematurely.
The three spoke quietly through magic.
Tyrion was very uneasy. "Are all Starks this simple-minded? I'd bet there's a conspiracy here!"
Jon didn't know what to say. Benjen was his closest uncle after all.
Joffrey didn't care. "A bland journey needs more seasoning to be exciting. Maybe after today, we can become friends with legendary creatures."
"What legendary creatures?" Tyrion heard the deeper meaning.
"Three, two, one, look to the left."
Tyrion twisted his neck, and instantly many figures, tall and short, appeared at the edge of his vision.
"Alert!!" he shouted, opening his mouth wide.
Benjen, who had just turned around ahead, saw several black-clad men move. Daggers went in and out, and scarlet paint, the blood of his other brothers, spilled from their throats and hearts, staining the white land.
"No!" He swung his sword at the traitors, but they retreated even faster, melting into the crowd of Wildlings in the distance.
"Hahaha, Benjen, you can't run this time!"
More than twenty Wildlings from the camp came out. More figures gradually emerged from the woods behind them.
Benjen slowly moved to Joffrey's side.
"Traitors! Scarface, Red Hand, Hound, Koss, why did you betray us!?"
Benjen questioned them, his face red with anger.
The few people didn't respond. The leader of the Wildlings spoke for them, "Benjen, you wouldn't know, but there's that lord beyond The Wall. The Night's Watch pledging loyalty to him isn't considered breaking their oath."
Joffrey stated directly, "You're talking about the former Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, the Three-Eyed Crow, Brynden Rivers, aren't you?"
"Wildlings, tell him I will personally pay him a visit, provided you can still make it back alive."
Many Wildlings looked at each other and burst into laughter.
The Wildlings weren't in a hurry to act; they had more men surrounding the area.
Joffrey wasn't in a hurry either. He was waiting for those short ones to get close enough that they wouldn't have time to escape, then he could make friends with them.
Tyrion confirmed his guess, "These must be the Children of the Forest that the books talk about!"
They were as tall as he was, with large ears and golden eyes, deep chestnut-colored spotted skin, three fingers, and a sharp claw for a thumb.
Tyrion breathed heavily with excitement. These were living legends, living ones!
"Good nephew, be sure to capture a few alive! It's hard to imagine how the Seven Kingdoms will react to this, ha, it'll be even more fun than dwarves!"
The only one in the tribe who understood the Common Tongue rubbed her hands, "Human, take back your rude words. We are only here for the person by your side who shouldn't be here. Give up your resistance, and you can return safely."
The Wildling leader also chimed in, "That's right, that's right. Put down your weapons and you'll live."
Joffrey looked around. In front and behind were hundreds of Wildlings, to the left and right were the Children of the Forest and dozens of Skinchangers' beasts, and overhead circled Goshawks, crows, and other birds.
He was contemplating how to deal with the enemy.
He currently had 500 units of Fire Magic Energy. It was known that 1 unit of Fire Magic Energy could boil ten tons of ice-water mixture, which is about one million kilocalories / over four million kilojoules of heat, similar to the heat released by one kilogram of TNT.
Inject it directly into the Wildlings' bodies? He'd have to get close to the enemy and dodge attacks, not cool enough.
Breathe Fire? The flammable material was too scattered, couldn't wipe them all out in one go.
The Wildlings started shouting, "Hey, surrender quickly. You, kid, kneel on the ground, and I'll give you a merciful death."
Joffrey smiled kindly at that person.
Art is an explosion.
He squatted down and pressed his hand onto the solid, single sheet of ice.
150 units of Fire Magic Energy were divided into 50 portions and infused into the ice beneath the feet of the Wildlings and beasts.
With a thought, hundreds of tons of Ice instantly expanded into high-temperature water vapor, erupting within the layers of solid ice.
*Bang!*
*Hiss~ Hiss~*
Fresh water vapor mixed with the smell of burning flesh turned into a surging white gale.
Shattered ice shards fell back to the ground from the sky with a clatter, still entwined with wisps of mist or blood.
Tyrion took a deep breath.
The air was as warm as a summer afternoon in King's Landing. So hot.
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