Chapter 401: Attack from the Sky

In the days that followed, the army of the dead continued to launch probing attacks against the Wall. Each assault left behind heaps of wight corpses, and many White Walkers fell to the human archers. Yet every time, the wights could do no more than swarm to the foot of the Wall—they couldn't even climb halfway up the icy barrier.

Because of this, the defenders atop the Wall grew increasingly relaxed. Many began to believe that the ancient tales of wights and White Walkers had been greatly exaggerated. Judging from the current performance of the enemy, even tens of millions of wights would only be a matter of time and effort to eliminate. Fear quickly gave way to complacency.

Seeing this dangerous attitude spreading among the forces stationed along the Wall, Stannis and the others sensed something was wrong. They repeatedly corrected the soldiers' mindset and eventually even issued strict regulations forbidding such complacency, but the effect was minimal.

Lynd had noticed as well. He issued a few warnings to the commanders at various castles, but when he saw that neither the Night's Watch nor the Free Folk truly took his words to heart, he stopped insisting.

As far as Lynd was concerned, it was enough that the Redeemer Sisters, the Silent Men, and the God's Chosen Corps he had stationed at each defensive point remained unaffected.

The Hand of the Lord of Light and the High Priests of the Red Temple, however, grew restless. They, too, had begun to believe that the wights and White Walkers were far weaker than expected. Influenced by the Night's Watch, many thought that the horrors of the ancient legends stemmed from the fact that people back then were unprepared. Now, with specialized preparations, superior equipment, and greater strength than their ancestors, it was only natural that they could so easily destroy the enemy.

Many of the High Priests believed they should take the initiative and engage the White Walkers and wights head-on in open battle rather than hiding behind the Wall and using it as a shield. Only by clashing directly could they truly demonstrate their devout faith in the Lord of Light and earn His favor.

Fortunately, there were still clear-headed figures among the followers of the Lord of Light, like Melisandre, who stepped in and, with Lynd's authority behind them, managed to suppress these reckless impulses.

However, the threat was not completely eradicated. Many of the warriors of the Hand of the Holy Fire still secretly believed that only through bloody battle could they prove their devotion.

Gamora of House Bart was the standard-bearer of the fanatics among the Hand of the Holy Fire. Born into a prestigious noble family of Volantis, he had entered the Red Temple at a young age and become a priest of R'hllor.

Though he had the opportunity to rise to priesthood, he voluntarily abandoned it, choosing instead to join the Hand of the Holy Fire and become a holy warrior. He subjected himself to brutal daily training, preparing for the day he would fight the Cold God on behalf of the Lord of Light.

The training for the Hand of the Holy Fire had existed for thousands of years. Countless had undergone it, though few ever put their skills to use. The training was so harsh that most Holy Fire warriors did not live to see the age of thirty.

Gamora had long assumed he would be one of those who died in a sickbed. At twenty-eight, he could already feel his body breaking down. What he had never expected was that the prophesied war between the Lord of Light and the Cold God would truly arrive—and that it would happen at the legendary Wall.

Thus, when Benerro began mobilizing the Hand of the Holy Fire to the Wall, Gamora pulled every family string he could to ensure he was among the first to arrive.

However, to his bitter disappointment, the battle against the White Walkers and wights was nothing like the epic struggle he had envisioned. Instead, it was tedious and monotonous. Nearly ten days had passed since the fighting began, and not once had they engaged the enemy in close combat. Instead, they watched as waves of wights approached, and archers fired arrows tipped with holy fire or dragonglass, setting the wights ablaze and forcing them to retreat.

In short, the past ten days had been so boring that Gamora even contemplated throwing himself off the Wall.

Throughout these days, he had spent more time acting as an archer or shield bearer than a warrior. His warhammer, strapped to his waist, was now coated in a thick shell of ice. He worried that if he tried to wield it, the frozen hammer might slip from his grasp.

As the commander of the Holy Fire warriors stationed around Long Barrow, Gamora convened a meeting after the day's routine skirmishes, gathering the captains of each defensive point under his command.

After a solemn prayer, Gamora spoke gravely.

"We cannot go on like this. This is not the battle our Lord desires. Even if we achieve victory, our Lord would never approve of such a hollow triumph."

Those who served under Gamora and had risen to captaincy were without exception as fanatical in their faith as he was. They too were deeply dissatisfied with the current state of battle. Upon hearing Gamora's words, they all nodded in fervent agreement.

"We also want to dedicate an epic battle to our Lord, but the High Priest and the Red Priests don't seem willing to seize this opportunity to glorify Him. Instead..." one of the Holy Fire captains said with visible frustration, though he stopped midway and didn't finish his sentence.

Another quickly picked up the thought. "If we can't convince the High Priest and the Red Priests, there's no way we'll get a chance to fight the wights head-on."

Someone else corrected him, "No, even convincing the High Priest and the Red Priests won't be enough. Unless His Grace gives the word, we still won't be allowed to go."

At those words, everyone's faces clouded with disappointment. They knew persuading the High Priest and the Red Priests wouldn't be that difficult—after all, many among them shared the same desire for battle. But convincing Lynd? That was another matter entirely. From the start, Lynd had made it very clear: the Wall was to be used for defense against the White Walkers' southern advance.

Suddenly, someone whispered, "What if we find a way to sneak through?"

Gamora turned to him, frowning. "What nonsense are you spouting? All the passages through the Wall have been sealed. How are we supposed to sneak past?"

The man jerked his chin toward a pile of ropes stacked nearby and said, "We could use the ropes when we rotate shifts at the guard posts..."

Someone immediately snapped, "We're trying to create an epic battle that would win the favor of our Lord—not throw our lives away! Forget climbing down the Wall—how many would fall to their deaths before even reaching the bottom? And even if we made it, how would we fight the White Walkers and wights? How would we retreat?"

Everyone nodded in agreement and began scolding the man for his foolish idea.

Just as the Holy Fire captains were discussing how they might stage their "epic battle," a horn suddenly sounded from the lookout post. Night's Watch brothers pointed frantically toward the Haunted Forest, now thick with swirling snow and mist, and shouted loudly.

"What's he shouting about?" asked Gamora, who wasn't very fluent in the Common Tongue of the Seven Kingdoms. He walked toward the edge of the Wall and peered toward the Haunted Forest, asking those around him for clarification.

"He's saying there's something big in the fog," someone who understood the language translated.

"Something big?" Gamora hesitated, then cupped his hands around his eyes to block the snow and wind, squinting northward toward the Haunted Forest. But all he could see was an endless sea of swirling mist and falling snow.

Just as Gamora was growing puzzled, a series of loud booms echoed from the direction of the forest. Then he saw them: dozens of dark shapes breaking through the mist, arcing across the sky from east to west before slamming into the ice wall in the middle of the Wall, scattering debris as they fell below.

"What is that? Wights?" one of the archers with sharp eyes quickly called out, realizing that the dark shapes were clusters of wights bundled together.

Someone else muttered in confusion, "Have those monsters lost their minds? Are they trying to smash down the Wall with wights?"

Even as they spoke, another deep rumble came from the forest, and once again, dozens more bundled wights were hurled into the air, slamming into the Wall. This time, however, they struck much higher up—barely a dozen meters from the top.

"No! They're not trying to collapse the Wall—they're trying to launch wights onto it, or even into the castle grounds!" The Night's Watch officer commanding this defensive sector quickly realized and shouted toward the beacon tower, "Light the beacons! Sound the horns!"

At once, the men at the beacon tower set fire to the signal flames and sounded the horn with the most urgent frequency. Across the Wall, every soldier sprang into action, grabbing their weapons and preparing for battle.

The Red Priests immediately began their own prayers to R'hllor, and before long, flames erupted on every soldier's weapon, as if they had each become a bearer of Lightbringer itself.

Almost the moment the order was given, another loud rumble echoed out. Clusters of wights were launched skyward, soaring over the top of The Wall and crashing down inside.

Within the Wall's interior, the military camps quickly lit bonfires to illuminate the surroundings. Shouts and the sounds of fighting soon rose from below, but the defenders atop the Wall had no time to spare for the chaos beneath them. They were too busy dealing with the wights raining down around them.

Groups of wights continued to be flung from the Haunted Forest, arching high into the air. Some flew clean over the Wall, but many others scattered mid-flight, their momentum carrying individual wights onto the top of the Wall itself.

Though many wights missed their mark—smashing into the Wall or falling to the far side—plenty still managed to land atop the Wall. Worse yet, they weren't only human wights. Packs of animal wights, including direwolves and shadowcats, fought alongside their human counterparts, launching fierce attacks on the defenders.

At the same time, the wight army on the ground renewed their assault on The Wall. With no catapults or archers left to slow them down, they quickly reached the base and began climbing.

The wights' aerial assault had caught the defenders by surprise, but the soldiers quickly regained their footing. Shields in one hand, flaming swords in the other, they fought back fiercely. The wights stood no chance against the fire—one touch and they were set ablaze.

At first, the defenders thought they could swiftly clear the Wall of the attackers. But then, in one sector, a White Walker suddenly burst from the mass of wights, slaying several Night's Watch brothers who stood in its way. It then smashed a jar of wildfire they had been guarding.

Wildfire spilled across the ground, and a single spark from a torch was enough to ignite it. An instant later, a massive explosion engulfed the entire defensive point. White Walkers, wights, Night's Watchmen, Free Folk, Chosen Warriors, and Holy Fire Warriors alike were consumed in the blaze.

Only a handful of Silent Men and Holy Sisters survived by praying to the Nameless King sigils within their bodies at the very instant the wildfire ignited. In response, solid ice formed between them and their companions, anchoring them to The Wall and shielding them from the blast. Even so, they found themselves trapped within the ring of fire, unable to move.

Screams echoed from the engulfed sector, and commanders at other points on the Wall quickly shouted warnings.

"Watch the wildfire! Watch the wildfire!"

"Put out the flames! Use dragonglass! Use dragonglass!"

But carrying out those orders was another matter entirely. The defenders had no time to swap weapons amid the relentless assault. Some of the Free Folk, untrained and caught up in the frenzy, paid no attention to the danger of the wildfire spreading around them.

Explosions erupted again and again across the Wall. Green wildfire flames spread like a tide across the icy surface, the brilliant green and the deep blue of the ice creating a dazzling, surreal scene.

Catapults and other defensive devices were heavily damaged. Several lifts were destroyed, cutting off reinforcements. Casualties mounted rapidly. More than half the defenders were either slaughtered by the wights and hidden White Walkers or burned and blasted apart by wildfire. The entire defensive line atop The Wall was thrown into chaos, unable to form a coherent defense.

Just as it seemed the defenses would collapse under this sudden, vicious assault, prayers rose from the lips of the Holy Sisters sheltered behind layers of ice. An invisible force erupted forth, summoning tornadoes that swept up the wildfire and its liquid residue, spiraling it high into the air to form a blazing cloud.

Then, from that fiery cloud, tentacle-like tornadoes stretched downward, striking the isolation zone outside the Wall. They rapidly expanded into a massive wall of fire, stretching from Greywater Watch all the way to the Shadow Tower. Every wight and White Walker charging the Wall was caught in the firestorm and reduced to ash.

Meanwhile, the wights and White Walkers already atop the Wall seemed to lose whatever force had been animating them. They froze in place, unresisting as the defenders cut them down. Others, still clinging to the Wall, lost their grip and fell, shattering against the icy ground—or, if they survived the fall, they were quickly set ablaze by the flames raining from above.