Faced with such terrain, the options were to either attack with siege equipment or charge forward with shields held high. The gates of Pyke City were small and not very thick. If the attackers managed to reach them without being killed by arrows, they could be hacked open with axes.
Witt couldn't wait for them to slowly hack at the gates, because inside the city was Euron Greyjoy. This man was mysterious, had no bottom line, and was a huge hidden danger. He was one of the few people on Witt's must-kill list. Even if it meant a formal conflict with the Green Seer, Witt was determined to kill this man.
He raised his hand and cast two Lightning Chains at the tower. The lightning accurately drilled through the arrow slits. Accompanied by a humming roar, bright white lightning spread among the defenders inside the tower. There was no way to dodge; a group of defenders were instantly burned to cinders.
Then, Witt cast an Exploding Fireball at the gate. The gate was small and weak, unable to withstand the power of the fireball. The fireball flew over the drawbridge and exploded, blasting the gate to pieces.
"Warriors of Bear Island, follow me and kill the enemy!" Jorah Mormont shouted, leading his people onto the drawbridge. A group of people charged on the narrow drawbridge. Witt, being much shorter than these Northerners, was nearly pushed off the bridge, but was thankfully pulled back by a tall female warrior.
"Thank you, what's your name?"
"Dacey Mormont."
Witt nodded to her, noting her name. Actually, Witt wasn't afraid of falling at all. Over the past few years of studying magic, he had developed many spells to deal with such situations.
He raised his hand and used Magic Hand on the top of the tower. Pale magic surged out, grabbing onto the merlons. With a pull of the magic, Witt was pulled up to the top of the tower. This spell could not only pick up objects from a distance but could also pull him towards the point of the spell.
Dacey Mormont saw Witt "fly" up to the top of the tower, feeling that her rescue attempt had been somewhat unnecessary. However, she didn't think much of it, as no one knew Witt was capable of such a feat before.
The castle had many floors. Jorah and his men were storming the main hall through the front gate, while Witt descended from the tower. The rooms at the top of the tower were small, and the staircases were narrow. The defenders couldn't form a proper formation, and even with more numbers, only three or four could fight at a time.
The Iron Islands' army were mostly pirates and didn't wear armor. Witt, with his immense strength and extraordinary reflexes, used his magic shield to block and his sword to cut off his opponents' hands. He would then take advantage of their injuries to stab them in the heart or neck, ending their lives. With the Iron Armor Spell protecting him, the enemies' swords and blades were completely deflected, unless it was a heavy axe that could inflict a wound. Therefore, Witt charged left and right without any restraint, killing more than forty people from the fourth floor to the second floor. Limbs and heads were scattered everywhere, and blood covered his body from head to toe, leaving only his eyes untouched.
Between the main hall and the second floor was a courtyard, with a staircase leading directly to the second floor. The second floor also had another drawbridge, connecting to the second keep of Pyke City. The entire hall was filled with the shouts and screams of both sides. The attackers kept pouring in, and the defenders were at a disadvantage, gradually retreating towards the drawbridge on the second floor. However, they didn't expect Witt to kill his way from the fourth floor to the second floor, cutting off their retreat.
Many of the defenders had already crossed the drawbridge and retreated to the second keep. On the second floor, there were still dozens of people who hadn't had time to retreat, the most prominent of whom was a burly man, two heads taller than the average person, wielding a two-handed great axe, wearing heavy armor and a kraken helmet. He guarded the stairwell on the second floor, and with each swing of his great axe, he could kill a Northman soldier, single-handedly holding back the entire attacking force.
Jorah and his men were also in the hall, where the two sides were engaged in a melee. Witt couldn't use lightning magic for fear of harming his own people, so he could only use fire or ice magic.
Witt thrust his sword through an enemy's chest, then dropped his magic shield. Immediately, a stream of fire erupted from his hand. It was the most basic Fire Breath Spell, which didn't require him to condense the magic. Instead, the flames simply appeared on his palm and continuously spewed forth.
The flames swept over the enemies. Their hair caught fire, forcing them to close their eyes. Their clothes ignited, and the magically enhanced flames quickly charred their skin. They wouldn't die instantly, but they lost their fighting ability. Unable to see, they could only scream in agony as they ran around. Some were finished off by Witt, while others stumbled off the balcony and were hacked to death by the Northmen's swords. One, two, three... in less than half a minute, only three were left alive. The entire hall was filled with the smell of roasted meat.
A burly man in full plate armor was unfazed. Witt's magic couldn't ignite the armor, and this man had a wealth of combat experience. Ignoring the scorching heat of his armor, he covered his eyes with one hand and charged at Witt. He swung his axe with a powerful overhead chop aimed directly at Witt's head.
Witt was somewhat impressed by this man. He had quickly realized he needed to cover his eyes and engage in close combat. However, he obviously hadn't seen Witt's capabilities outside the city walls, which extended beyond just fire magic.
Dodging the man's attack, Witt retreated two steps and cast Ice Breath Spell. A cold wind, mixed with ice shards, slammed into the burly man. The already scorching armor was instantly cooled, producing large amounts of steam. The man, unable to see, wildly swung his axe. Suddenly, he felt a cold wind on his body, which at first felt pleasant, cooling him down. But he couldn't see, so he could only guess the direction of the wind and swing his axe.
Witt watched as the man was burned and then subjected to the ice magic. The ice magic somewhat obscured his vision. Witt was momentarily distracted, and he only reacted when the man's axe was about to strike his neck. He used his superhuman strength to twist his waist and dodge the axe. He immediately dropped the sword in his hand and cast a spell with both hands, doubling the power, though it also doubled the mana cost.
The burly man felt colder and colder. His body temperature plummeted. In less than two breaths, he was frozen solid, unable to move. His entire body was covered in ice crystals, and his brain gradually lost the ability to think.
Upstairs, Jorah and his people had killed the last of the defenders and reached the second floor. They had just witnessed, from below, a man covered in blood spewing flames from his hand and burning a large group of enemies to death. Now he was using ice magic to freeze the enemy's most formidable warrior into a white ice sculpture. Another man had a burning sword in his hand. He looked at Witt and then at his own sword, unsure what he was thinking.
Witt supported his back and took a moment to catch his breath.
He had almost been killed just now. During the usual practice matches, everyone held back. But on the real battlefield, every move was aimed at a vital point. It was a matter of life or death. If you thought you were "invincible" after being unchallenged in the sparring ring and started to become arrogant, using the wrong combination of spells, you could easily lose your life. He'd need to reflect on this when he got back. So many people had ruined their promising futures because they underestimated their enemies.
Jorah approached the white, humanoid ice sculpture. White mist constantly descended around it, indicating extreme cold. He didn't touch it. Fire and ice – he already knew it was Witt, but he didn't understand how Witt had gotten upstairs. He then looked at the burly man:
"His face is burned, but I recognize his armor and build. He should be Victarion Greyjoy. I saw him once in Lannisport the year before last. He is Balon Greyjoy's younger brother."
"So, it's a big squid," Witt realized his back really hurt. "Jorah, you guys keep attacking. I'll rest for a bit." He hadn't warmed up, and he'd used magic right away, fighting from the fourth floor to the second floor. This vigorous exercise had really strained his back.
Jorah saw Witt covered in blood, along with the charred corpses and the ice sculpture, and assumed Witt was just worn out. He nodded and waved his sword, signaling his troops to continue attacking the second fortress.
....
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