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Chapter 429
🕑 Added 2025-01-29 12:54:43 +0000 UTCThe Night King chose the Gorge as the primary point of attack not only because he needed sufficient forces to destroy the remnants of the weirwood forests on either side, opening a breach for the Frost God’s magic to permeate, but also because of its proximity to Castle Black, the midpoint of the Wall between the eastern and western coasts.
A surprise attack from the Gorge toward Castle Black required passing through only eight fortresses along the way. Of these, only half—Gorge Watch, the Shadow Tower, Sentinel Stand, and Stonegate—were manned. The others, lacking stairways to the Wall’s summit or defensive walls, served merely as residential outposts for the New Gift’s inhabitants. At the first sign of alarm, their populations would evacuate to the nearest garrisoned fortress.
Although the undead army moved slowly, it compensated with relentless stamina, needing no rest. In a single night, they broke through the Gorge's defenses and overran Gorge Watch, the Shadow Tower, and Sentinel Stand. This lightning-fast assault seemed to render the Night’s Watch’s meticulously planned Defense Protocols worthless, leaving the living commanders cold with fear and stunned by the ferocity of the enemy's advance.
And yet, the Night King was dissatisfied.
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On the surface, his undead army appeared to have gained the upper hand in the final battle of ice and fire. However, beneath this veneer of dominance, the Night King felt as though he was losing the war.
For the living, losing multiple defensive lines and fortresses at the outset of a well-prepared battle was nothing short of catastrophic. But for the Night King, none of these engagements could be considered true victories.
Victory or defeat, for him, wasn’t determined by the capture or loss of strongholds. It was defined by whether his tactical and strategic objectives were achieved.
The Frost God didn’t care about lifeless fortresses. What mattered was securing victory before the dragons returned. Though King’s Landing was over a thousand kilometers from the Wall, for creatures that could fly, it was a matter of hours. At best, the dragons might remain absent for two or three days.
The Night King’s original plan was straightforward: after taking the Shadow Tower, his army would capture the stairways to the Wall, ascend to the top, and launch simultaneous assaults from above and below. They would push toward Castle Black before dawn, destroying the magical wards woven into the Wall’s structure. With the suppression field nullified, the Frost God’s priests would regain their full magical strength, allowing the undead army to march south unimpeded, annihilating the Gift and the North before the dragons could return to the battlefield.
Once the North’s resistance was crushed, no amount of dragonfire could stop the army’s advance.
In reality?
The living’s preparations for this battle far exceeded the Night King’s expectations.
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It had taken over an hour to breach the Gorge, costing the army more than ten thousand wights—even though the defenses there had failed to operate at full capacity. Clearing Gorge Watch and cutting through the weirwood forest added another two to three hours. Up to this point, things were still within the Night King’s expectations.
But everything that followed deviated from his script.
The Shadow Tower consumed nearly ten thousand wights and over an hour of precious time. Despite these heavy losses, the defenders managed to destroy the stairway, foiling the Night King’s plan to secure access to the Wall’s summit.
This initial failure could have been written off as a coincidence. The army marched onward to Sentinel Stand, which had sealed its gates upon receiving a warning from the Shadow Tower’s survivors. Adjusting his tactics slightly, the Night King used magic to assist in the assault, reducing both time and casualties. However, just as the walls were breached, the defenders destroyed the stairway once more.
The losses weren’t the only problem. Though the number of wights being killed exceeded those being created, that was anticipated. What truly unsettled the Night King was the realization that the stairway's destruction was no spur-of-the-moment decision by clever commanders. It was part of a premeditated plan.
And worse still, the eastern contingent—his fallback force meant to secure the flanks—had been obliterated in mere seconds, along with the two Frost God priests leading it.
Whatever mysterious weapon had annihilated his priests could very well be widespread among the defenders. How many such weapons did the humans possess?
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As the Night King left a third fortress in ruins, his army marched on toward Stonegate, the last garrison before Castle Black. By now, dawn was breaking.
The plan for a swift, decisive strike had failed. The Night King faced a grim choice: Should he attack Stonegate, risking that its defenders might destroy their stairway as well? Or bypass it entirely and launch a ground assault on Castle Black without the advantage of the Wall's summit?
The first option was immediately dismissed. Gambling on the defenders’ incompetence was inconsistent with the Frost God’s servants' cautious and calculated nature.
As for bypassing Stonegate? The combined strength of the eastern and western armies had started at 110,000 wights. Now, between losses in the Gorge and the complete destruction of the eastern flank, fewer than 70,000 remained. The army wasn’t afraid of being caught between two fronts, but there was another issue: the closer they got to Castle Black, the stronger the Wall’s suppression field became.
By the time they reached Castle Black, the suppression might render the Frost God’s priests completely unable to use magic—even to extinguish wildfire.
A ground assault relying solely on wights would result in catastrophic losses. Even if the fortress fell, would the surviving forces be enough to defeat the North’s rallied defenders in the inevitable counterattack?
The Night King stood at a crossroads. Though his army had racked up what appeared to be a string of victories, he now felt cornered. The Wall, true to its name, was driving him to the brink of despair.
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As he pondered his next move, one of his priests spoke in the ancient tongue, offering a third option.
Since the plan for a lightning-fast conquest had failed, why not shift strategies?
With at least a day and a half remaining before the dragons returned, the army could turn its attention to the Gift. The Wall’s magical wards didn’t extend to the Gift, leaving its inhabitants vulnerable. By systematically annihilating the Gift’s population, the Night King could eliminate any potential reinforcements, bolster his army with new wights, and then regroup for a focused assault on Castle Black.
Intrigued, the Night King extended his senses, searching for concentrated clusters of life.
To his delight, he detected a dense mass of life to the southeast—thousands of humans, tightly packed together.
The humans believed gathering in large numbers would protect them. Little did they know, such a concentration was a beacon to the Frost God’s priests. Unlike the heavily fortified strongholds along the Wall, this cluster was an easy, tempting target.
A feast delivered right to his doorstep.
The Night King’s icy lips curled into a cold, joyless smile. He had made his decision.
