Chapter 364: Escape

"Charge!"

Dozens of surviving soldiers, torches in hand, burst out from the lowest level of the Stark crypt, catching the wights off guard.

However, these wights felt no fear. Their bodies were already dead, now merely animated by some mysterious force. Their brains didn't function, blindly executing the Night King's commands.

Immediately, the wights let out a piercing shriek and lunged at the group of human soldiers.

The force of life was like a beacon in the darkness to these dead, attracting them like flies to dung. The wights swarmed in, and the few dozen survivors drew their swords to fight.

Ban Yang was the leader of these soldiers.

Ser Alliser Thorne was the master-at-arms of the Night's Watch, but Ban Yang was the Chief Ranger. Their ranks were similar, neither could command the other.

However, most of the surviving soldiers were Northerners. They naturally preferred to follow the orders of a member of the Stark family, rather than a Southerner of unknown origin.

The light from the torches illuminated the pitch-black crypt. The wights relied on instinct to seek out any signs of life. In such a dark environment, human eyes were not as sensitive as the wights' instincts.

Fortunately, the crypt was stocked with plenty of war supplies, including food, armor, weapons, and firewood.

"Charge!"

A man with long, dark brown hair and a long face, dressed in black animal skins, held a long sword in one hand and led the charge under the glow of the torchlight.

The wights on the upper level of the crypt saw the living and let out a howl before lunging directly at them.

Crack—

Ban Yang deftly dodged and decapitated a wight with a backhand swing of his sword.

"Heh—"

Even after being decapitated, the wight's body continued to claw and bite wildly.

The fallen head couldn't scream, but the icy blue glow in its eyes was still clearly visible, flickering with madness.

The Chief Ranger moved swiftly, stabbing the headless wight in the chest with the obsidian dagger in his left hand.

Puff—

The dragonglass dagger was incredibly sharp, even sharper than weapons made of steel, but it was much more fragile, suitable for ending an enemy's life rather than fighting.

The dagger pierced the chest of the headless wight, feeling as if it had stabbed into a straw man, without the sensation of flesh and blood.

The wight's movements instantly froze, and then, as if all its strength had been drained, it collapsed limply.

It was completely dead.

The body of the headless wight was killed, but its head was still clattering its jaws, as if trying to bite a human toe.

Crack—

But it was crushed under the foot of Yoren, the 'Wandering Crow', who had rushed up from behind.

Another wight lunged at them, and Yoren shoved his torch directly into its mouth, causing it to scream in pain. He then used his dragonglass dagger to finish it off.

The sudden commotion of the human survivors had alarmed all the wights in Winterfell, and they all swarmed towards them.

Now, only a few dozen survivors were left, surrounded on all sides.

The survivors had now broken out of the pitch-black crypt and reached the surface of Winterfell. They formed a circle to face enemies from all directions, and were engaged in a fierce battle.

Crack—

Ser Alliser Thorne cut down a lunging wight with his sword, panting heavily, his breath forming a white mist in the air.

Beside him, a soldier from House Karstark was knocked to the ground by a wight and was being savagely bitten on the cheek, letting out a shrill scream.

"Damn it!"

The master-at-arms of Castle Black, his hair slightly graying, pulled out his dragonglass dagger and fiercely stabbed it into the wight's back.

The wight screamed and instantly became motionless, dying on the spot. However, the face of the Karstark soldier had been gnawed to a pulp, and he died in a pool of blood.

"Ban Yang! We can't fight here!"

"Or we'll all die here!"

While swinging his sword desperately, Ser Alliser shouted loudly at Ban Yang.

The Chief Ranger naturally understood this. The man with long black hair and a long face clenched his teeth, scanning the surrounding environment.

The wights gathering were becoming more and more numerous. The gate of Winterfell was inexplicably closed by the wights, and there was definitely no time to rush over and seize the gate. The only choice was the nearest city wall...

"Follow me!"

Ban Yang gritted his teeth and led the remaining survivors out of the encirclement towards the direction of the city wall.

The survivors also burst out with a strong will, paying a heavy price. They actually managed to break out of the encirclement of the wights and escape to the city wall.

"Heh—"

The wights let out a sharp howl and chased madly.

Even after so much time had passed since the battle, there were still traces of the war on the walls of Winterfell.

The splattered blood, the torn Stark family banner, the direwolf emblem burned with a large hole, the scorched marks on the damaged city wall, and the scattered arrows in the arrow baskets.

However, even so, the thick snow on the ground had covered most of the traces. The story of the humans' bitter struggle here was buried under the frost.

Ban Yang then kicked the unused oil on the city wall and threw the torch in his hand to ignite the oil.

In an instant, a huge fire blazed up, blocking the wights from climbing the city wall.

The Chief Ranger panted slightly, then turned and came to the charred battlements.

He leaned on the battlements, looking at the profound height below, and then at the few people who had survived but had lost more than half in a short period of time.

The man swallowed lightly.

At this moment, silence was golden. No words were needed, everyone knew what to do.

They clenched their teeth tightly, then nodded at each other as a form of encouragement.

Ban Yang was the first to climb the battlements, then without hesitation, he jumped down.

Following him was the over forty-year-old Ser Alliser Thorne, 'Wandering Crow' Yoren, and the remaining survivors of the allied forces. Only a dozen or so were left, and they all jumped down from the battlements.

Not far away...

A fire and thick smoke suddenly rose in Winterfell. The Night King, riding a skeletal horse, turned his head. His eyes were burning with icy blue flames.

He saw everything that had just happened, and also saw them jumping off the city wall.

However, the Night King did not plan to chase after them. They were just a handful of struggling humans. It was not worth his personal effort.

They were staying on this land enveloped by cold. Death would embrace them sooner or later.

The Night King then urged his horse into Winterfell. With his footsteps, the snow in Winterfell became heavier.

In the crypt of Winterfell...

Under the cover of darkness, the tombs of the Kings in the North seemed to tremble slightly.

Rustle—

Dust from the ceiling fell in a flurry, and the stones trembled.