Robb and his companions were rapidly advancing through the forest toward the island's center, while the ice blocks that had previously frozen soldiers in bizarre death positions began to crack open.
From their shattered eye sockets, icy blue light began to emerge, and after a slight movement, they picked up nearby weapons and charged at Robb and his companions.
These soldiers, who had not been pierced by obsidian daggers at the time of their deaths, were now all part of the Night King's army of wights. Hundreds of wights surged toward Robb and his group, aiming to stop them from reaching the island's center to aid Sauron.
The three, who had just fought and conversed with these men—who were once friends, subordinates, and companions in battle—felt nothing but numbness in their hearts. There was no discomfort. The best way to relieve them was to end their suffering quickly.
"Ah~~"
Ashara roared as she poured all her magical power into her twin swords. The flames on her Dawn and Dark Sisters shifted from golden to blue. Two brilliant blue whips of fire lashed through the wight horde, cutting through them over and over.
In a triangular formation, Ashara led the charge, cutting a path through the wights. As more of them surrounded her, she became ruthless, chopping the wights in half. The fire on her sword surged with each strike, sweeping over the wight corpses, determined to burn everything that moved to ash.
The wights, relentless in their assault, charged at the trio, piling on top of each other to block their path. Even if they couldn't harm the three, they threw their bodies in the way, clinging to their feet with whatever limbs remained.
Ashara's frenzied attack eased the pressure on Robb and Jon, but it slowed her down.
Both Robb and Jon knew Ashara well enough to understand that at this point, she was beyond reasoning. There was nothing they could do but follow behind and watch.
Suddenly, the wights halted, some frozen with weapons raised, others turning around and wandering aimlessly, weapons still in hand.
A voice echoed in the trio's minds. It was Bran, the Three-Eyed Raven:
"It's me. I'm disrupting the Night King's thoughts. But his will is too strong. I can't hold it for long. You must seize this opportunity."
Robb cleaved a wight's head off with one swing and kicked another wight to the ground:
"Jon! Ashara and I will hold them off. You go help Sauron!"
Robb could sense the magic around Sauron weakening, and if no one intervened soon, the Night King might be able to kill him.
"You two hurry up!"
Without wights here, Jon knew that the wights couldn't hurt Robb or Ashara. They were just a delay.
A few words later, Bran's interference faded, and the Night King's control over the wights was restored. The battle resumed.
A wight's sword struck Jon, slicing across his left shoulder, cutting deep into his body before emerging from his waist. There was no resistance; the wight lost its footing and fell, but Jon's body began to fade into purple light, vanishing just as the wight's blade cut through him. Jon had already moved through the forest.
Ahead, Jon's heartbeat quickened. He gripped his sword tighter as he neared the Night King for close combat.
"Just ahead!"
Jon pushed off a thick fish-leaf tree trunk, leaping high into the air and bursting through the trees, landing in an open space.
A massive column of fire shot up, skimming the ground as it rushed into the forest.
Dragonfire, burning white fish-leaf trees—on this battlefield, it was as bright as day.
The battle between Sauron and the Night King had cleared a patch of ground at the island's center, leaving broken ice walls and large craters filled with fire. The ground was littered with soft soil and charred tree branches, remnants of an explosion.
Jon landed on a rock and launched himself toward the Night King.
Boom!
A large explosion of ice sent glittering shards flying.
The head of the black dragon, Shulvokun, was hurled into the air, its molten blood dripping to the ground as smoke rose. A piece of steel armor the size of a man flew toward the woods, crashing into several thick tree branches before embedding itself in the tree trunk with a resounding thud.
The remaining armor pieces hung from the black dragon's neck, the damaged ropes on the verge of snapping. The dragon had deep, bone-exposing gashes across its neck and head, with countless sharp ice shards embedded in the wounds. If not for Sauron's assistance, the Night King could have killed the dragon several times over.
The furious black dragon's bloodshot eyes glared as it used its wings to prop itself up, shaking its head before opening its mouth. Lightning began to gather in its throat, ready to strike down the Night King.
With a single powerful strike, the Night King turned his focus back to Sauron. The Valyrian steel longsword, once quick and fiery, had lost its speed. Black streaks marred its blade as its temperature dropped.
With a flash of sparks and shattered ice, the Night King blocked the sword with his ice spear, and lifted his left leg to deliver a brutal kick to Sauron's head.
A red flash appeared behind the Night King. The back of his right leg, just below the knee, was slashed open, revealing pale muscle beneath. The slash had torn through the thick ice armor.
A black mist split in two as the Night King swung his spear, the mist regrouping behind him and forming into a dark magic dagger. From the gash in his armor, the dagger stabbed deep into the Night King's knee.
"SSSS~~~"
A circle of ice spikes erupted around the Night King, and the surrounding white cold air quickly gathered, forming an even thicker layer of ice armor over his body.
The Black Dragon was wounded, Sauron was gradually exhausting his strength, and Quaithe, now a black mist, could not use Valyrian steel weapons to break the Night King's icy armor.
Jon, moving with incredible speed, joined the battle. Although Valyrian steel had immense power against undead creatures, it couldn't penetrate the thick ice armor, and now, his role was mostly to rescue Sauron from the Night King's attacks.
With the Black Dragon, Sauron, Quaithe, and Jon all facing imminent death, Robb and Ashara finally arrived.
Human strength and magical power were limited, and in the cold night, the Night King's magic seemed endless, giving him a distinct advantage. This was a difficult battle with no sign of victory in sight.
"Ah!"
By this point, Ashara's armor had long been melted by magic, and she was enveloped in flames as she lifted her twin swords, letting out a battle cry and charging again toward the Night King.
"Hold on!"
Red light swirled around the Night King, and Frost and the Ice Spear clashed, sending out the unmistakable sound of Valyrian steel striking, which could be heard throughout the island. Jon, bathed in the red light, appeared pale as he used blood magic, nearly draining all the blood from his body.
"Watch your left!"
Robb wielded his Ice, the cold attribute of his blade matching the Night King's. Only stabbing into the Night King's body could inflict damage, and until the ice armor was broken, its effect was limited. Robb used his sword's ice magic to erect ice walls to block the Night King's attacks.
With the Stark siblings' help, Sauron, whose heated magic was fading, calmed down. Knowing his greatest role now was healing magic, he began to cast spells to heal everyone's wounds.
"Now's the time!"
The voice of the Three-Eyed Raven echoed again.
Everyone saw the Night King, usually so fierce, suddenly pause. Before anyone could react, Ashara, engaged in close combat with him, had already thrust the Dark Sister through the gap in his elbow armor.
"SSSS~~~"
Furious, the Night King focused his attention, briefly shaking off the Three-Eyed Raven's mental attack, and raised his left hand to grab Ashara's head, preparing to crush it.
In a flash of red light, Jon thrust his sword into the Night King's left arm.
"ROAR!"
The Night King lifted both Ashara and Jon, swinging his arms to throw them off with immense force. Both held onto their swords, clinging to his arm with all their might.
At this moment, Robb charged forward, stabbing Ice into the Night King's back knee.
"SSSS~~~"
The Night King's roar was deafening, his voice mixed with magic exploding outward, sweeping through the trees of the island's Weirwood forest. The nearby soldiers holding refuge covered their ears in pain.
Ashara, Robb, and Jon, closest to the roar, all suffered ear, eye, and nose injuries, blood spilling from their faces.
Sauron, also bleeding from his seven orifices, quickly cast a healing spell on himself, then immediately healed the others.
"Don't unleash Dragonfire!"
Seeing the Black Dragon preparing to unleash Dragonfire, Sauron staggered forward and shouted urgently, lifting his sword to charge at the Night King.
As the Stark siblings held the Night King in place, perhaps due to the Valyrian steel inside him blocking magic or the Three-Eyed Raven's ongoing spiritual struggle with the Night King, he did not use any more magic but relied solely on his brute strength to try to break free from their grasp.
A headbutt shattered Ashara's facial bones, her face covered in blood, and her magical flames extinguished. She screamed but refused to let go.
Another headbutt, and Jon's arm broke, but he still held tightly onto the Night King's arm, using his back to absorb the blows.
A backhand smash sent Robb crashing, his shoulder armor caving in, leaving a deep wound in his body. Blood gushed from his mouth as he shouted, "Sauron!"
Without external magical enhancement, Sauron's sword was now a rough Valyrian steel bar, and without magic, his body had reverted to the form of a small child.
Charging toward the Night King, his sword thrust forward, but the Night King kicked him away, sending his sword flying.
"Quick!"
Ashara, Jon, and Robb screamed desperately.
Struggling in pain, Sauron managed to stand, unable to find a weapon. He picked up Ashara's fallen Dawn.
Feeling the intense heat from the hilt, Sauron followed Ashara's method, channeling his remaining magic into the blade, reigniting the magical flames on the Dawnblade.
"You killed my mother; now I will kill you!" Sauron shouted as he ran toward the Night King, his sword aimed at his heart.
Thrust!
The Night King blocked the attack with his foot.
"This is our last chance; we can't give up!" Robb shouted in agony, seeing the Night King still alive.
Quaithe also reformed from the black mist, picking up Sauron's fallen black sword and wrapping it around the Night King's neck from behind.
If anyone could unleash the Dragon Roar right now, the Night King would be immediately killed, but none of them could.
The Night King began struggling again.
"Ah!" Ashara pushed with all her might.
"Ah!" The others joined in the struggle.
An inch, two inches, the Night King's feet carved shallow trenches into the ground.
A meter, two meters, the Night King's body was lifted by the four of them.
"Ah~~~"
In his struggle, the Night King swung his arm and kicked with legs that could crush an ordinary person.
The four could only hold on, not knowing whether this would be enough to defeat him. They knew one thing: they could not let go. If they did, the swords stuck in the Night King's body would be pulled out, and the magical attacks would overwhelm them all. All their efforts would be in vain.
The five yelled, pushing the Night King forward, getting knocked down, only to rise again. They withstood the Night King's blows, stumbled through burning branches, and over ice-encrusted pits, until they finally cornered the Night King against the trunk of a massive Weirwood tree, five meters wide.