CHAPTER 408: CHAPTER 408: THE END OF THE WHITE WALKERS

Suspended in midair, Lynd neither fell to the ground nor paid any attention to the battle below. His focus remained entirely on the chaotic surge of magic erupting in the distance.

This magic had burst forth right after the horn’s sound had faded and the Great Wall had collapsed. In terms of sheer intensity, it was the strongest magic Lynd had ever encountered, so powerful that it gave him the illusion of a god descending.

Moreover, this chaotic magic blended seamlessly with the chaos beyond the Wall, forming an enormous magical field. Even as he flew high above, Lynd found himself trapped within its influence, feeling the oppressive pressure closing in from all directions.

Yet the magic was unstable, as if another force was interfering with it, preventing the chaotic power from spilling through the broken Wall and flooding into the southern lands.

At the same time, from the direction of Icemark, another surge of magic erupted—filthy and malevolent, tinged with the unmistakable essence of black oil stone. Lynd could clearly sense the presence of Ella and Yara within it. This black oil stone magic acted like a signal beacon, connecting to a special existence high above the heavens, and through that link, exerting a powerful suppressive force on the chaos beyond the Wall.

"Two evil forces are locked in confrontation here. Where is the King of Light? Where is the King of Light?" Lynd muttered, glancing down at the ruins of the Wall.

Before the collapse, Lynd had ordered the red priests and high priests of the Red Temple to retreat to the ground. But, consumed by religious fervor, they had ignored his commands, choosing instead to remain atop the Wall, drawn by the belief that their fervent prayers and the sacred flames would bring them closer to R’hllor, the King of Light.

Thus, when the Wall fell, all the high priests and most of the red priests were buried beneath it, with only a few who had stayed behind in the camp surviving.

Even so, from these few survivors, Lynd could still sense the formidable power of R’hllor. He saw the red priest Soros performing a descent ritual for Beric Dondarrion, the Lightning Lord. Having been resurrected countless times by the King of Light, Beric had gradually become the very embodiment of R’hllor. The divine power radiating from him was so brilliant that even Lynd dared not look directly.

"Feel their power." Suddenly, a voice whispered in Lynd’s ear.

"Spark?" Lynd immediately recognized the voice, and as he did, he sensed the chaotic magic being disrupted—wild forces exploding outward like chains, binding the chaos in place.

"The time has come!" Another voice reached him, faint and almost inaudible. It was Willas, sounding so weak that his words were barely a whisper.

Lynd had been waiting for this moment. Without hesitation, he activated the Storm Dragon Rune, transforming into a streak of lightning that shot through the dark clouds, arriving above the source of the chaotic magic in an instant.

What he saw below stunned him: tens of thousands of elf White Walkers encircling and protecting a massive Ice Dragon. The Ice Dragon lay sprawled on the ground, its head raised high to form something resembling an altar.

Atop the dragon’s head, a White Walker Queen—so breathtakingly beautiful she defied description—was fused with the Ice Dragon. Her lower body melded with the dragon, while her towering upper body loomed like that of a giant. An ugly scar marred her otherwise flawless form, and a silver longsword was embedded in one end of the scar. Clutched lifelessly in her hand was Peinan, the elf White Walker, already dead.

Surrounding the Queen were three towering ice pillars, completely encasing Reed, his sister, and Bran. They resembled ice coffins, but the three were not yet dead. The natural forces emanating from their bodies extended outward like chains, binding the White Walker Queen in place.

Lynd didn’t know what had transpired here, nor did he need to. The moment he laid eyes on the White Walker Queen, he drew the Banished Knight’s Greatsword, pushed the rune power to its peak, and hurled himself toward her like a spear forged from pure lightning.

The Queen noticed him instantly. As the lightning spear descended, fear flickered across her face.

But just as Lynd was about to strike—barely a foot away—time seemed to freeze. Everything around him—howling winds, swirling snow, even the bolts of lightning streaking through the clouds—became motionless, suspended in a single frozen instant.

Even though time and space had ground to a halt, Lynd could still feel the currents around him—and so could the White Walker Queen. He could even see a look of joy flashing in her eyes. She clearly understood the source of the power that had stopped the world around them...

Just as Lynd was trying to find a way to resolve the situation, a surge of chaotic magic mixed with extreme cold suddenly erupted from the Land of Always Winter in the north, sweeping toward them like a tsunami.

The moment the chaotic magic appeared, something akin to a "Descent of the Gods" switch was triggered. A blinding light burst from the location of the Wall, illuminating the entire sky and earth as it clashed fiercely with the approaching chaos.

At the same time, an evil, filthy force emerged in the sky, as if the heavens themselves had turned into a mass of dark, oily sludge. This force rapidly descended, engulfing both the light and the chaos, seemingly intent on swallowing them both while they battled.

Three powers, each belonging to different gods, appeared almost simultaneously and collided with one another. Lynd could clearly feel every moment of their confrontation.

He had expected some cataclysmic event to occur—something on the scale of the Arm of Dorne sinking, perhaps even the collapse of the Wall and the Land of Always Winter.

But to his complete surprise, after the three forces collided, they all vanished at once. Time and space around him snapped back to normal, and Lynd, still in the form of a lightning spear, fell straight onto the White Walker Queen. The two Banished Knight swords he wielded drove deep into her body, and all the thunder amassed in the clouds above poured down into him, using his body as a conduit to channel into the White Walker Queen, tearing apart every last bit of power within her.

The White Walker Queen didn’t even have time to scream before she and the Ice Dragon beneath her shattered into countless fragments of ice. As she broke apart, all the other White Walkers disintegrated into ice crystals as well. Without the power of the White Walkers sustaining them, the wights collapsed to the ground, turning into nothing more than lifeless corpses.

Along the Wall’s defensive line, everyone who had just been fighting desperately froze, stunned by the sight before them.

Though they had been focused on battle, they had all seen the lightning tearing open the sky, and the countless bolts of thunder cascading down from the heavens like a waterfall. Everyone knew that Lynd was the Storm God—the god who commanded the weather and thunder—so it was only natural that they immediately connected the scene to him.

No one knew who shouted Lynd’s name first, but soon cries rang out across the battlefield: "Your Majesty," "Chosen One," "God of Calamity," "God of Storms," "God of Magic"—until at last, all the titles merged into one: Lynd Tarran.

Even Lynd hadn’t expected everything to end so smoothly. For a moment, he almost thought it might be an illusion, until he felt the chaotic magic dispersing around him and saw the ice crystal fragments left behind from the shattered White Walkers. Only then did he begin to truly believe that the White Walkers had been destroyed.

He couldn’t help but recall the entire sequence of events. Thinking it through carefully, he realized that his success in destroying the White Walker Queen had been the result of combined efforts from many sides. First, there was the Lord of Light; then Ella and Yara, who had summoned an existence from beyond the heavens through the black stones at the Wall’s foundation—both crucial in suppressing the Lord of Winter. Spark had also played a vital role, using the remnants of the Three-Eyed Crow’s power within Reed and Bran to forge chains that sealed away much of the power the Lord of Winter had committed to the battle.

Lynd’s final lightning spear had simply been the push that toppled the blade already poised at the enemy’s throat. That wasn’t to say Lynd wasn’t powerful—after all, there had been four gods present, including Spark, and even in such an environment saturated with divine power, Lynd had managed to unleash his full strength without faltering. That alone proved he now possessed the ability to stand face-to-face with the gods.

At that moment, Lynd’s thoughts turned to Reed, his sister, and Bran. With the death of the White Walker Queen, the solid ice that had imprisoned them shattered into ice crystals. Unfortunately, even so, their deaths could not be undone.

Although he didn’t know exactly what the three of them had done after reaching Beyond the Wall, judging from how Spark had used the lingering power of the Three-Eyed Crow within them to bind the White Walker Queen, they had clearly been crucial to the final victory. Lynd had no intention of claiming their glory. When he returned, he would ensure the entire battle against the White Walker Queen was recorded in full—so that at the very least, Reed, his sister, and Bran would be remembered for the honor they deserved.

"Is it over?" Lynd glanced north, feeling the chaotic magic still lingering in the air around him, but his heart held little joy.

Although the crisis of the White Walkers marching south had been averted, the Long Night and the Land of Always Winter had not vanished. Lynd could sense that the Lord of Winter had suffered significant losses in the clash against the Lord of Light and the beings from beyond the heavens—but it was not a fatal defeat, nor would it stop the coming of the Long Night. At best, it would only delay it. And now, with the Wall destroyed, the extreme cold could easily sweep through the North and reach the South. The time left for the Seven Kingdoms to migrate would likely be far shorter than anyone had anticipated.

The news of the White Walkers’ destruction spread swiftly throughout the Seven Kingdoms, leaving everyone who heard it in disbelief.

Only a short time ago, reports had warned that the White Walkers were advancing south, preparing to cross the Wall and forcing people to ready for a migration to Essos. Yet now, the news had taken a complete turn: the White Walker Queen had been slain by Lynd, all the White Walkers annihilated, and the wights reduced to lifeless corpses. It sounded so unbelievable that anyone hearing it would have thought it a wild rumor.

Had the news not come directly from Winterfell and Summerhall, and been formally announced in the Free Cities, the Kingdom of Lorne, Qarth, and elsewhere, no one would have believed it.

Soon after, detailed records of the battle were posted across public bulletin boards everywhere. Those who read them couldn’t help but gasp in shock. They learned that the situation had been far more dire than anyone had imagined—the Wall, which had stood for thousands of years, had collapsed; countless wights had poured through the breach; and the Night’s Watch, the Free Folk, the God’s Men, and other armed forces had fought desperately to hold the line on both sides of the Wall. In the end, it had been King Lynd who discovered the White Walker Queen’s hiding place and, transforming himself into a thunderbolt, struck her down in a single blow. With her death, all the White Walkers shattered into ice crystals, and the wights fell lifeless to the ground.

In an instant, Lynd’s renown soared even higher. Temples to the God of Calamity, the Storm God, and the God of Magic had already been established, but now even the Faith of the Seven began debating whether to officially recognize Lynd as one of the Seven. This proposal did not suggest expanding the Seven into eight, but rather making Lynd the embodiment of the Warrior—a part of the Seven.

For conservatives like those of the Great Sparrow’s faction, such a proposal was heresy; they only recognized Lynd as the Chosen of the Seven and a Saint of the Faith. But to the reformists, it seemed like a golden opportunity to forge a closer bond between the Faith of the Seven and the newly founded Tarran Empire.

Although the title "Chosen One of the Seven" remained Lynd’s most prestigious divine title, every member of the Faith’s clergy understood that this situation could not last forever. As the Churches of the Storm God, the God of Calamity, and the God of Magic continued to rise, the Faith of the Seven’s influence was bound to wane. Even Lynd himself might eventually shift his support from the Faith of the Seven toward these newer churches, especially since all three worshiped Lynd directly and were effectively his personal religious institutions.

The Faith of the Seven had long anticipated this possibility. Yet until now, Lynd had shown great respect for the Faith, especially regarding the Holy Trials of the Redemption Sept—a system so vital that anyone seeking real power at Summerhall had to pass through it.

Thus, the Redemption Sept had always remained at the center of Lynd’s power structure, and the Holy Sisters and Silent Men had long been among his most trusted military forces. Based on this, it was clear that for the foreseeable future, the Faith of the Seven would continue to be a core force within the Tarran Empire.

But how long that core status could last was uncertain. Everyone knew that with the growth of the newer churches, the Faith of the Seven would inevitably decline. Therefore, the Faith was determined to bind Lynd ever more tightly to itself.

And so, almost as soon as news of the White Walkers’ destruction spread, every Sept of the Seven—except for the Great Sept of Baelor—officially declared Lynd as the embodiment of the Warrior. They removed all existing statues of the Warrior and replaced them with new ones, modeled exactly after Lynd’s appearance.