"Look at the giant dragon in the sky!"
"What is it holding in its mouth?"
In the southern part of Harrenhal, retreating soldiers looked up and saw Odahviing, wrapped in magical light, gripping a massive creature in his jaws. They all stopped in awe, stunned by the sight.
Intermittent howls echoed from the sky. Anyone who heard the sound felt as though a dagger had been driven into their minds, twisting painfully, causing them to clutch their heads and collapse to the ground in agony, crying out in torment.
The giant dragon flew westward at first, but as the creature in its mouth began to struggle, the dragon veered southward. The terrible howls persisted until the dragon flew out of sight, and then the excruciating sounds finally stopped.
At that moment, another dragon returned from the northern battlefield, flying overhead. Renly, standing on the dragon's back, shouted down to the troops below:
"The Army of the Dead has reassembled and is in pursuit! Everyone, pick up the pace!"
Seeing the king on the giant dragon above them, Ashara tugged the reins of her warhorse to a stop. She turned to Robb and said:
"Teacher Wright and that massive creature have gone south to fight. Just relying on Renly and one dragon will not stop the Army of the Dead! If no one stays behind to hold them off, none of us will survive. Robb, I'm staying behind."
"Don't be impulsive, Ashara. Let me think," Robb said, not immediately agreeing to her request.
The entire human alliance was no match for the Army of the Dead. Anyone who stayed behind would undoubtedly perish. Moreover, with the Night King already involved, it was uncertain how much time they could gain. Allowing Ashara to stay behind would only result in a needless sacrifice of a key commander.
The retreating human army stretched for miles. After suffering defeat from the Army of the Dead and enduring a few more terrifying roars from the giant creature flying overhead, the soldiers walked with their heads bowed, morale at an all-time low.
"Stay close behind me," Robb ordered Ashara, and, to the confusion of the soldiers around them, he urged his horse forward. After riding along the edge of the God's Eye for a short distance, he pointed at the lake and said, "We'll take the water route!"
"Take the water route? The fishermen along the shore have already evacuated. Where will we find boats?" Ashara asked anxiously, seeing that Robb had a plan.
Robb pointed to the southern part of the army. "Our forces are spread too thin. I plan to divide the army into two groups. The ones up front will continue on land, and the rear will follow me by water. This way, the Army of the Dead will have to split its forces to pursue us."
Before Ashara could ask more, Robb waved to the soldiers behind him, shouting, "You heard what I said! Spread the orders!"
As messengers galloped off to relay the command, the soldiers at the rear began to gather near Robb's position. Robb dismounted and walked with Ashara to the edge of the lake.
Understanding his plan, Ashara watched in confusion as Robb drank a bottle of alchemical potion before stepping into the icy, biting waters of the lake. Once the water reached his knees, he drew out the frost and ice from his back, wielding two swords in reverse and plunging them into the water.
"Everyone, move away from the shore!"
Ashara quickly shouted to the soldiers watching.
Robb's eyes and neck bulged with veins as the cold mist poured from his Valyrian steel blades.
"Roar~~!" With a mighty cry, the waves around his swords froze into ice, and with a series of cracks, the icy region expanded rapidly. A wide ice path, roughly ten meters wide and stretching far into the distance, formed on the surface of the Eye of the God Lake.
"A miracle!" The soldiers watching exclaimed in awe.
"Retreat across the ice!"
After shouting the command, Robb struggled to pull his legs free from the ice shards, finally collapsing on the ground, gasping for breath.
The human army split into two groups to retreat. The pursuing Army of the Dead would either divide its forces to follow both paths or focus only on one. Death was inevitable, but at least more people would survive.
"Hahaha!" Ashara slapped Robb on the back, knocking him face-first into the ice. "I didn't expect you to have this trick up your sleeve!"
"Ow, take it easy! I don't have any strength left!" Robb groaned as Ashara effortlessly lifted him back up and set him sitting on the ice. "If it weren't for the cold weather, I wouldn't have been able to freeze such a long ice path. Do you have any recovery potions?"
Ashara handed him her last potion for magical recovery, and a few knights stood guard nearby, waiting for him to recover.
"Robb! Well done!"
"Robb!"
Infantry and cavalry marched past him, knights and nobles nodded in acknowledgment, and those who knew him even called out his name, showing their respect for Robb, the commander-in-chief of the alliance army.
Lord Edmure of Riverrun, Princess Nymeria of Dorne, Ser Willem from the Westerlands, and Lord Jaime, leading their troops, passed by Robb one after the other, offering their respects.
"Everyone's looking at me like I'm already dead. I'm not dying just yet!" Robb said with a self-deprecating smile, having regained his composure.
Ashara, who had been looking around, suddenly noticed a huge disturbance in the distance. She quickly adjusted her helmet with two small horns and drew her twin swords, ready for action. "The Army of the Dead is already here! It's too narrow here; I'll stay behind!"
"You won't be able to stop them! Someone, drag her away!" Robb, knowing Ashara's personality, didn't waste time arguing with her and immediately ordered his subordinates.
"Anyone who dares touch me will be split in half!" Ashara, with her stubborn temper, set her swords ablaze with magical fire. The knights hesitated to come near her, and she stood alone at the farthest north side of the formation, taking up a defensive stance.
Over a hundred officers who had been with her from the Tyrosh city guard also gave up on retreating. They ordered their young subordinates to step onto the ice, then picked up discarded shields from the ground to form a shield wall behind Ashara.
"Pick up the pace! Pick up the pace!"
Now, it wasn't just Robb, but all the human officers were shouting.
The Army of the Dead had passed Harrenhal and was roaring, attacking from both sides of the castle like a black tidal wave.
The ice path Robb had created was only ten meters wide, and once the warhorses and soldiers started running on the ice, many were pushed off the path and fell into the water.
There was no time to stop or go into the water to save them; if they slowed down, everyone would be engulfed by the Army of the Dead.
Robb, along with some of the mages, joined Ashara's side. "Teacher Wright always said not to make unnecessary sacrifices. Escaping with grace and honor is also a necessary skill we must learn. You're his first apprentice—how could you not learn that?"
"It's because I was his first apprentice and heard him repeat it the most that I've realized something!" Ashara said, her voice muffled by her helmet.
"He always wore the thickest armor, stacked with the most defensive spells, deliberately going to take the hardest hits! That's why his achievements are so much greater than ours! We can't just keep running away!"
"How did you come to that conclusion?" Robb was not in the mood to correct her at the moment. He sheathed his swords, preparing to find a way to get Ashara away.
To the south of Harrenhal, there was a long slope, and the massive horde of the Army of the Dead was charging up the slope toward the retreating crowd, the rumbling sound of their footsteps making the water surface ripple.
"Eight hundred paces!"
"Seven hundred paces!"
The officers began shouting out the distance, and the retreating soldiers were growing more desperate, pressing together at the ice path's entrance.
"Six hundred! Look, reinforcements are coming from the east!"
Robb and Ashara turned eastward, seeing sixteen white-robed knights galloping across the muddy plains toward them.