Chapter 213: The Battle of Hardhome – Part 2
July 7
The Night King watched from his mountain, his blue eyes tracking the devastation below with an expression that might have been confusion.
He had seen his army destroyed. He had seen his White Walkers shattered like cheap glass. He had seen Allison and the others cut through his forces like a scythe through wheat.
He raised his hand. Ice formed in his palm—a spear, long and sharp. The weapon hummed with ancient, malevolent magic.
He hurled it.
The ice spear tore through the sky like a frozen comet, aimed directly at Allison.
Allison sensed the attack. She felt the surge of ice magic before she saw the spear. Her eyes glowed red as she nocked an arrow of ice and released.
The two projectiles collided mid-air, sending shockwaves rippling across the battlefield. The ice spear shattered. The ice arrow exploded. Both attacks dissolved into glittering fragments, canceling each other out—neither gaining an advantage.
The Night King's eyes widened. He had not expected anyone to block his attack.
Allison's eyes narrowed. She also hadn't expected the spear to be strong enough to stop her arrow.
"Everyone, fall back!" Jacob's voice cut through the chaos.
Allison and the others retreated to Jacob's side. The White Walkers and wights followed them.
Jacob took his sword from Stiles and stepped forward.
He raised both hands, and magma dripped from his palms into the frozen ground.
Soon, everyone saw smoke rising from the earth. The ground cracked, and magma golems began to emerge—hundreds of them. They attacked the army of the dead, shooting liquid flame from their palms and mouths, burning the wights to ash.
The wights that tried to attack the golems were burned to ash the moment they touched them.
White Walkers swung their ice blades at the golems, but the golems had no flesh to cut, no bones to break. They simply reformed, their molten bodies flowing back together, and retaliated with physical blows that shattered the Walkers' crystalline forms.
Jon watched the golems and asked, "What... what are these creatures?"
Lydia corrected, her voice calm. "Those aren't creatures. They're just puppets made from magma. They aren't alive."
"I see," Jon breathed, though the expression on his face made it clear he was still deeply confused about the golems.
The magma golems kept destroying the army of the dead. The wights and White Walkers couldn't do a thing to them.
After a while, Jacob waved his hand again. A giant space portal appeared at the side of the Army of the Dead.
From the portal, Kisarax's massive head emerged. Her green eyes scanned the battlefield, then landed on Jacob.
"Kisarax," Jacob called, a grin spreading across his face. "Drakarys."
'I always wanted to say that,' he thought.
Kisarax took a deep breath and unleashed her fire. It was devastating—a sea of flame that swept across the battlefield, consuming everything in its path. Twenty-five hundred wights were destroyed, reduced to ash in an instant. When the flames died, they left behind nothing but ash—save for the magma golems and a few White Walkers, who stood unfazed amidst the scorched earth.
Kisarax emerged fully from the portal, her massive wings blotting out the weak northern sunlight that filtered through the heavy clouds. She soared above the army of the dead, raining fire with each pass and destroying thousands more.
Bran, Meera, Benjen, the Free Folk, and the giants were shocked, their eyes going wide at the sight of the massive dragon.
Jacob raised his head and looked at the Night King.
The Night King's eyes were fixed on Kisarax, greed and desire flickering in his icy gaze. He raised his hand, forming another spear—this one larger than the first—and hurled it towards Kisarax.
Allison warned, "Jay, his ice spears are strong! Protect Kisarax!"
"She'll be fine," Jacob replied with absolute certainty. "She's stronger now that she has a bond with me. And even before she had a bond with me, her scales were strong enough to defend against an attack like that."
Just as Jacob said, the ice spear hit Kisarax's hard scales and shattered without even leaving a scratch.
Kisarax turned her massive head toward the Night King, clearly offended. She descended to a nearby mountain peak, her claws digging into the rock, and unleashed her fire breath directly at him. The flames swallowed him whole, drowning him in a sea of blazing fury.
But the Night King stood there unscathed after the fire cleared.
Kisarax let out a dissatisfied roar and was about to engage him physically, but Jacob ordered her mentally to go back to burning the army of the dead.
The Night King created a third ice spear—larger than the last—and drew back his arm to throw it toward Kisarax. But a bolt of lightning descended from the sky, striking the spear dead-on. The ice shattered into a thousand shards, and the force of the blast sent the Night King sprawling to the ground.
The Night King rose slowly, his gaze sweeping down the mountain until it found Jacob.
Jacob was looking back at him with a smirk, lightning still dancing around his fingers.
Their eyes met. For a long moment, neither moved. The battlefield seemed to hold its breath.
Then the Night King looked at Allison and the others—one by one—as if memorizing their faces. Then he turned, mounted his horse, and left with his generals.
Jacob's smirk faded as he surveyed the battlefield—now scorched, with only twenty-one White Walkers still standing. They had survived Kisarax's fire and the golems. He waved his still crackling hand and unleashed a volley of bolts that struck each Walker simultaneously. Their bodies exploded into shards of ice that glittered briefly before dissolving into nothing.
He nodded in satisfaction and made the magma golems disappear. He looked at Kisarax.
"Good job, big girl. Now go back home."
He opened a portal back to Serendell.
Kisarax let out a soft roar. Her green eyes flickered with affection as she looked at him. Then she flew back into the portal and disappeared. The portal closed behind her.
The Free Folk stared at the empty battlefield, their mouths agape.
Jacob turned to them, his voice carrying across the silence. "Karsi, Tormund, go to the surviving people from the Thenns and the other clans who refused to follow me. Tell them they are welcome to join us—as long as they accept me as their king. I will take everyone south of the Wall and come back for you."
Tormund nodded. He and Karsi departed to carry out the task.
Jacob wrapped everyone—the ninety thousand Free Folk, the giants, their animals, Allison, and the others—in his telekinesis and teleported them south of the Wall, in front of Castle Black, where his five thousand soldiers—the men who had surrendered after the Battle against Stannis—had made camp.
The Free Folk looked around, disoriented. Some fell to their knees, pressing their hands to the snow. They were on the south side of the Wall for the first time in their lives.
Jacob looked at Chris. "Make sure no conflict happens between the soldiers and the Free Folk. They are all our people now."
Chris said, "Don't worry. I'll take care of it."
Jacob used his earth element to build large, simple stone longhouses where the Free Folk and giants could stay and hide from the cold.
After doing so, Jacob took a chair and sat down. He took out some food and started eating.
"Building these houses consumed a lot more of my energy than I expected," he admitted.
Allison said, "So where are we going to build a city for them?"
Jacob said, "Right now, I just want to go home and rest. Let's talk about it tomorrow."
Allison nodded. "Alright."
After eating, Jacob vanished, reappearing at Hardhome. He found Tormund and Karsi waiting.
He asked, "So, what did they say?"
Karsi pointed to five thousand women, children, and elderly people behind her. "The women and elderly from the three clans that decided to stay with the Thenns before said they would accept you as their king. They are willing to join you with their children."
Tormund pointed to two thousand women, elderly people, and children standing alone not far away. "They are from the Thenns. They refuse to follow you. Said they'd rather freeze than kneel to a foreigner."
Jacob nodded. "Well, I'm not going to force anyone to follow me. Let's go."
He wrapped Tormund, Karsi, and the six thousand Free Folk in his telekinesis and teleported them south of the Wall, leaving only the two thousand stubborn Thenns to fend for themselves.
---
South of the Wall
Jacob told Tormund and Karsi to settle the new arrivals with the rest of the Free Folk. Then he looked at Jon and said, "There are some extremists in Castle Black who hate Free Folk. Warn them not to do anything stupid, or I'll kill them. And you should be careful, or they'll stab you in the back."
Arya stepped forward, her hand resting on Needle's hilt. "I'll stay with him."
Jacob nodded. "Alright. I'll be back tomorrow." He disappeared and went back to Serendell.
Allison, Malia, Lydia, Kitty, and Stiles teleported to Serendell as well.
Victoria looked at Chris. "Aren't you coming back home?"
Chris shook his head. "Not right now. I need to make sure the Free Folk and the soldiers don't fight. I'll be back tonight."
Victoria said, "Okay. I'll see you tonight." She kissed him and teleported to Serendell.
Sansa approached her siblings, her expression softening. "Rickon. Bran. You'll have to stay here tonight with Jon and Arya. I'll see you tomorrow."
Rickon's face fell. "Can't you take us to Serendell?"
Sansa shook her head. "No, I can't. Only Jay can take people there. I'm sorry."
Jon looked at Rickon and Bran apologetically. "It's probably my fault he didn't take you there. I shouldn't have grabbed his arm and questioned his decision earlier."
Sansa advised, "Don't do that again. And you should apologize to him tomorrow."
Jon sighed. "I will."
Sansa said, "He's not hard to get along with. Stiles calls him names and jokes with him all the time, and Jay doesn't get angry at all. He treats Stiles like a brother. Arya does the same. He probably didn't care about you questioning his decision. What he didn't like was you grabbing his arm like that in front of people. So just apologize and try to get to know him well before you judge him again."
Chris said, "Let me give you a piece of advice. Although he won't kill you for your sister's sake, don't ever get on his bad side. I did that once, and let me tell you—that little punk is pure evil."
Arya smirked. "What did he do to you?"
Chris remembered the beating he took from Jacob and the expired Senzu Bean's side effects. He shivered. "I don't want to talk about it." He left quickly.
Sansa said, "Alright, I'll see you guys tomorrow."
Rickon said, "Wait, Sansa. Can you give me some snacks, please?"
Sansa asked, "Like what?"
Rickon said, "Something sweet. And can you give me a TV?"
Sansa smiled. "I'll see what I can do."
She disappeared and came back a few moments later, handing Rickon all kinds of snacks and a tablet loaded with cartoons. She showed him how to use it, then kissed his forehead and departed for Serendell.
---
Serendell
Jacob had dinner with his family—a pleasant evening filled with laughter, good food, and the warmth of loved ones. Afterward, he stayed in the living room with his wives, talking about the battle against the army of the dead and watching TV. A few hours later, he retired to his room.
Sansa followed not long after. She paused outside his door, heart pounding. She wore a dark, form-fitting jumpsuit with boots that hugged her calves, her red hair loose around her shoulders. The outfit was completely foreign to her—tight, revealing, nothing like the modest gowns she'd worn her entire life.
Lydia had helped her into it, grinning the whole time. "He'll love it," she'd promised. "Jacob has a thing for cosplay."
Sansa hadn't understood what cosplay meant until Lydia explained. She still didn't fully get it. But she wanted to apologize for what Jon had done.
Jacob was propped against his pillows, about to sleep, when his eyes went wide. He sat up so quickly he nearly fell off the bed and stared at Sansa—who was cosplaying as Black Widow.
"Oh, I love what I'm seeing." His grin was immediate, appreciative. "What's the occasion?"
Sansa fidgeted, her cheeks flushing. "I wanted to apologize for Jon. And... Lydia mentioned you enjoy this sort of thing. She helped me dress."
"Don't worry about Jon." Jacob waved dismissively. "I know he's a self-righteous fool. We already have one of those in the family. I'm not mad."
Sansa sighed with relief. "Thank you. Since you're not mad, can I change? These clothes make me feel... so embarrassed."
"No!" Jacob's voice was so sharp that Sansa flinched. Then he softened, a sly grin replacing the urgency. "In fact, I am mad at Jon. And if you don't cosplay for me once a week, I will kill him."
Sansa rolled her eyes. "Fine. If you want me to wear these shameful things, just say so. But only once a month."
"Deal." Jacob stood, approaching her. "Now, Miss Romanoff, I have some very important information for you. But you'll have to get it out of me using your spy skills."
"Spy skills?"
"Yes. And I mean slutty spy skills."
Sansa blinked. "This Romanoff you mentioned... that's who I'm dressed as?"
Jacob gasped dramatically. "Don't tell me you're cosplaying as Natasha Romanoff, but you have no idea who she is!"
"Sorry. I truly don't."
"Fine, fine." Jacob waved it off. "Let's say you've lost your memories, and I have to remind you who you used to be."
He stepped closer. "First: Natasha isn't shy. She's very confident. She takes the initiative."
Sansa swallowed hard. "I already don't like where this is going."
Then Jacob started telling Sansa to act and do things that had nothing to do with Natasha Romanoff at all. Despite her shyness, she played along. And as the night deepened, Sansa found herself enjoying it more than she'd expected—and discovering parts of herself she'd never known existed.
After a few hours of fun and lovemaking, they lay tangled together, Sansa's head resting on Jacob's chest as he gently played with her hair, a satisfied smile on his lips.
Sansa traced the lines of his jaw with her fingertip. Her thoughts wandered—back to Winterfell, to the life she'd once been groomed for, then to King's Landing and all the pain she'd suffered there. But then she smiled, remembering the day she first met Jacob and how everything had changed for the better since then.
She raised her head and pressed a kiss to his lips, then settled back against his chest, closed her eyes, and let sleep claim her with that smile still on her face.
Jacob pulled her closer and fell asleep as well.
Chapter 214: Plans and Preparation
July 9
Jacob woke up the next morning and found Sansa still sleeping peacefully, a content smile on her face. He kissed her forehead gently, careful not to wake her, and quietly left the room.
He made his way to the dining room, where his other wives were already gathered.
Melissa looked up from her plate and smiled. "Good morning, Jay."
Jacob kissed her, then Allison, then Lydia, then Malia. He sat down at the table.
Melissa set down her fork, her expression turning thoughtful. "I'll go with you today to Sansa's world. I want to start treating the sick among the Free Folk." She paused. "And I'll take Shireen with me. She wants to learn how to become a healer. I'll teach her."
Jacob raised an eyebrow. "Teach her? You have healing and purification abilities and Herbal Mastery—which gives you innate knowledge of every plant's medicinal and magical properties and lets you brew potions and antidotes. She can't learn that."
Melissa said, "I know I can't teach her the supernatural parts. But I can teach her how to heal simple wounds. How to treat common illnesses like colds and fevers. And while I can't teach her to brew potions since she doesn't have my powers, I can teach her about herbs—how to identify them, how to harvest them properly, and how to combine them to make non-magical medicines and antidotes."
Jacob said, "I see." He took a bite from his food and looked around. "Where is Cogman? I haven't seen him this morning."
Lydia said, "He made breakfast and left before you arrived."
After breakfast, Jacob decided to check on Cogman.
He teleported to Cogman's workshop—a large, cluttered room filled with half-built machines, glowing screens, and scattered tools. Cogman was hunched over a workbench, muttering to himself, surrounded by the skeletal frames of satellites.
"Still not finished?" Jacob asked.
Cogman spun around, his eyes glowing faintly with irritation. "No, sir. I am not finished. Some of the materials I ordered have not arrived yet."
Jacob raised an eyebrow. "What's wrong with you? You seem angry."
Cogman's voice pitched higher. "Why was I not informed about the battle at Hardhome? I only heard about it from stupid Stiles this morning."
Jacob scratched the back of his head. "Ah. Yeah. I thought you were busy with the satellites, so I didn't tell you."
Cogman's eye twitched. "You thought I was busy, sir? That's why you didn't bring me to kill White Walkers? Killing is my favorite thing to do, sir. How could you not take me? I heard from Stiles they are made of ice. I want to torture them and test their pain tolerance. You are cruel, sir. How could you not take me?"
Jacob waved a hand dismissively. "Don't worry. We'll fight them again, and you can have all the fun you want with them." He paused. "And we're going to take over the North soon and kill the Boltons. I won't forget to take you this time."
Cogman's expression shifted from irritation to eager anticipation. "Promise, sir?"
Jacob nodded. "Promise. Besides, you can just finish the satellites quickly, and then you won't miss a fight again."
Cogman smiled—a chilling, hungry smile. "Alright."
Jacob looked around and asked, "By the way, how many satellites are you going to make, and how much time will that take?"
Cogman said, "Twenty satellites is what we need to cover the entire world of Lady Sansa, sir. Each one will function as a communications hub, data router, and signal amplifier, capable of covering a radius roughly the size of the Seven Kingdoms individually."
He gestured to a holographic display showing the satellites in orbit, their coverage areas overlapping. "Networked together, they will provide seamless voice and video transmission, text messaging, and fast internet—significantly faster than what human technology can currently provide. Each satellite will have powerful inter-satellite laser links to communicate with one another, creating a mesh network in space so signals never drop. They'll also be capable of direct-to-cell communication, meaning your phones on the ground can connect directly to them without needing massive towers or dishes."
Jacob blinked. "That's... impressive."
Cogman added, "I can build them all in a month. No rockets needed. I'll use Arc Reactor technology for propulsion and power."
Jacob's face fell. "Wait, hold on a second—aren't you going to use rockets to send them into space?"
"No." Cogman's voice was flat. "Each satellite will lift itself into orbit using continuous, controlled thrust. No massive fuel tanks. No fiery explosions. No dramatic countdowns."
Jacob's expression shifted to one of genuine disappointment. "What? But I wanted to launch rockets into the sky."
Cogman stared at him. "There will be no rockets, sir." He paused, then smirked. "Hurts, doesn't it? Well, that's how I felt when I heard you killed the White Walkers without me."
Jacob crossed his arms. "Can you at least build one rocket?"
"No. I didn't order the materials. It would delay me further—and you might start another war without me while I'm busy." Cogman began pushing Jacob toward the door. "Now, with all due respect, sir—get lost. I have work to do."
Jacob shuffled out, grumbling under his breath about not being able to launch rockets into the sky.
The door slammed behind him.
---
After leaving Cogman's workshop, Jacob went to visit Saphira.
He found her coiled on her favorite cliff, basking in the warm Serendell sun, with the little wyverns playing around her, their wings still clumsy as they chased each other through the air. She lifted her head when he approached.
[Good morning, Jay,] she said telepathically.
Jacob kissed her snout and sat beside her, leaning against her head. "Morning, Saphira. How are you?"
[I am well. The little wyverns can fly now, and they are growing quickly.]
Jacob looked at the wyverns flying nearby. They were now the size of large dogs. He smiled. "Good. I want to see them as big as Kisarax soon."
[It will take them a few years to reach her size,] Saphira said. [Now, tell me—did anything happen yesterday? I felt Kisarax disappear from Serendell for a few minutes before she came back.]
Jacob stayed with her, running his hand along her warm scales as he recounted the battle at Hardhome. He told her about the Night King and his army, about the Free Folk, and about his fight with the Jubokko demon. Saphira listened, offering occasional comments in her warm, British-accented mental voice.
Jacob stayed with her for a while longer, talking to her and playing with the little wyverns. After an hour, he said, "See you later," kissed her snout, and teleported to his training grounds.
---
For the next few hours, Jacob trained.
He practiced his Conqueror's Haki, refining his control. He practiced his elemental abilities, pushing his limits, finding new ways to combine and control them.
He sparred with rock golems he created from the earth, pouring half his energy into making them strong enough to challenge him.
By the time he finished, he was sweating and satisfied.
He teleported back to the palace, showered, and joined his wives for lunch.
---
After Lunch
Jacob, Sansa, Chris, Allison, Melissa, Stiles, Shireen, and Victoria gathered in front of the palace.
Jacob looked at Malia. "Aren't you coming with us?"
Malia stretched lazily on a lounge chair. "There's no fight today, right?"
Jacob shook his head. "Not today."
Malia said, "Then I'm staying home with Kitty. I want to play some video games."
Kitty, curled in Malia's lap, nodded in agreement.
Lydia, sitting with Erica near Malia on lounge chairs, said, "I'll stay too. Erica and I are helping with Kai and Mika's wedding preparations."
Jacob nodded. "Alright. I'll see you girls when I come back."
He opened a portal, and they stepped through into the Game of Thrones world.
---
Game of Thrones World — Morning
They appeared in front of Castle Black. The air was cold, but the sun was shining—one of those rare clear days that made even the frozen North seem beautiful.
Jacob found Karsi. She was organizing a group of Free Folk near the longhouses.
Jacob introduced Melissa. "Karsi, this is my wife Melissa. She's a healer. She wants to treat the sick among the Free Folk."
Karsi looked at Melissa with respect. "We have many sick, Your Grace. The cold, the hunger, and old wounds from the battles." She paused. "We will be grateful for any help."
Melissa smiled warmly. "I'll do what I can."
Karsi led Melissa and Shireen toward the longhouses.
Melissa looked at Shireen as they walked. "I will teach you how to identify common illnesses today. Then I'll teach you what herbs to use and how to combine them to create medicine to cure those illnesses."
Shireen's eyes sparkled with determination. "I'll work hard, Lady Melissa."
Melissa patted her head. "I know you will, sweetheart."
She looked at Karsi and said, "I will build a small hospital with my abilities. I want you to organize things for me by bringing first the people who need immediate medical attention—meaning the people who are bedridden and can't move and people who are severely injured."
Karsi nodded. "I will take care of it, Your Grace."
When they reached the center of the longhouses, Melissa scattered a few pine seeds from her ring onto an empty patch of ground and raised both hands, using her earth and wood elements. The ground trembled as wood and stone rose from the earth, shaping themselves into a simple but sturdy building—a hospital with a large room, an office, chairs, and two beds: one for humans and one for giants.
The Free Folk watching gasped and murmured among themselves.
---
In Front of Castle Black
Arya and her siblings approached Jacob, followed by Tormund, Samwell, Edd, Benjen, Davos, Brienne, and Podrick.
Jacob looked at Arya. "Did the brothers of the Night's Watch cause any trouble?"
Arya's smirk was cold. "Some of them called Jon a traitor for letting the Free Folk south of the Wall." She cracked her knuckles. "I beat the shit out of them and warned them to behave, or I'd kill them."
Jacob smiled approvingly. "Good job."
Jon stepped forward and looked at Jacob. His expression was serious, almost nervous.
"Jacob," he said, "I want to apologize. For grabbing your arm. For questioning your decision in front of everyone. It was disrespectful, and I shouldn't have done it."
Jacob waved a hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it. I don't care."
Jon blinked. "You... don't care?"
Jacob shrugged. "I really don't. You can question me all you want. We already have one like you in the family." He smirked. "But if you grab my arm like that again, I'll break yours."
Jon stared at him for a moment, then let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. "Fair enough."
Jacob's smile widened. "Besides, someone already apologized on your behalf yesterday, and it was a very sincere apolog..."
Sansa's hand clamped over his mouth. "Sh-shut up!" she hissed, her cheeks flushing crimson.
Jacob gently removed her hand and pulled her into a deep kiss that left her flustered and breathless. She struggled briefly, then melted against him, forgetting her embarrassment.
When he released her, she stumbled backward, hiding behind Allison with her face buried in Allison's back, not daring to look at anyone.
Jon stared at his sister hiding behind Allison, and a warm smile appeared on his face.
Nearby, Podrick leaned toward Samwell and Edd, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Guys, don't stare at his grace's wives. I've seen what he did to Littlefinger for disrespecting Queen Sansa. He crushed his balls and healed him only to crush them again and heal him again and repeated that a few times." He shuddered. "It was a terrible thing to watch."
Samwell and Edd exchanged glances and immediately averted their eyes.
---
Jacob used his earth element to create a simple stone building near Castle Black and invited everyone in.
Inside, he took a large table from his pocket dimension and placed it in the center. He pulled out chairs and gestured for everyone to sit.
He then took out the enchanted map of the Game of Thrones world and laid it on the table. The map was detailed beyond anything Westeros had ever seen—rivers, mountains, forests, castles, and towns all marked with precision.
"Alright," he said, "let's talk about what's next."
Everyone gathered around the table.
Jacob pointed to the area south of the Wall. "We need to settle the Free Folk somewhere. They can't stay here forever. They need land—a place to build homes, a place to farm and hunt and raise their children."
Jon pointed to a location on the map. "What about this place, the Gift? The land south of the Wall that used to belong to the Night's Watch?"
Jacob shook his head. "Too close to the Wall."
Sansa pointed to a large forested area on the map. "What do you think of the Wolfswood? Good for hunting, and the timber could be used for building."
Jacob shook his head. "No. We're leaving the Wolfswood as it is. Anyone living there will be relocated. We're turning it into a preserve."
Samwell furrowed his brow. "A preserve? What's that?"
Chris explained. "A preserve is a protected natural area where no one is allowed to cut down trees, hunt, or build. The plants and animals are left to thrive without human interference. It's like declaring the entire forest off-limits to axe and spear so future generations can still see it as it is today—wild and untouched."
Jacob nodded. "Exactly. No logging. No hunting. No settlements. Just the forest and everything in it, left alone."
Samwell nodded slowly. "I see. That's a good idea."
Benjen leaned over the map, his eyes scanning the North. "I know a perfect place for the Free Folk to build their city," he said, tapping a finger on a large blue expanse. "A large lake roughly a hundred and fifty miles south of Last Hearth. The Long Lake."
Jacob looked at the map. The Long Lake was a massive body of water, surrounded by forests and hills. It was far enough south to avoid the worst of the winter but still firmly in the North.
Benjen continued, "The land around it is good. Plenty of game. Plenty of fish. Good soil for farming—if the ground ever thaws."
Jacob raised an eyebrow. "If?"
Benjen grimaced. "Aye. The ground stays frozen deep down, even in summer. Only the top few inches ever truly thaw before the cold creeps back. You won't grow wheat or corn in soil like that."
Stiles leaned in, curious. "Then what can they grow there?"
Benjen shrugged. "Turnips, carrots, radishes—they handle the cold and grow quick. A bit of barley too. But the real value is the grazing. The lake keeps the grass and moss green through summer. Good land for sheep and cattle."
Chris studied the map. "And when winter comes?"
Benjen's face hardened. "When winter hits, farming's done. The lake freezes solid. But that's when the place proves its worth. Folk come from miles around to cut through the ice and fish. Keeps them fed when the grain runs low. The Free Folk know how to live in a place like that."
Jacob nodded. "Farming isn't a problem. We'll build a commercial greenhouse facility—like Winterfell's glass gardens, but much better. And we'll build roads and vehicles so they can always get what they need from other cities."
He turned to Tormund, who had been stroking his red beard in silence. "What do you think, Tormund? Do you like the place? Or would the Free Folk rather live somewhere else—near the sea, perhaps?"
Tormund grunted, squinting at the map. "The sea? Nah. This lake... it's good. We have forests nearby to hunt. Lake for fish. Land for the sheep." He glanced at Jacob. "This'll do. The Free Folk will like it well enough."
Jacob nodded. "Alright. We still need to take over Winterfell and the whole North first before we start building the Free Folk's city. There's no hurry." He looked at Tormund. "Talk to the other elders first. See what they think."
Tormund said, "I will, Your Grace."
Sansa said, "I can go with Arya, Jon, Bran, and Rickon to visit the houses that were loyal to our family. We can try to talk to them and convince them to join us. Avoid bloodshed if we can."
Jacob looked at her. "Alright. But make sure you explain to them that they have only three choices."
He held up three fingers.
"First: they join my kingdom. They swear allegiance to me, follow my laws, and become my people. They keep their lands, and I'll build small cities there. Each house will be responsible for managing their territory."
He raised a second finger.
"Second: they refuse. They go to war with me. And I will take over their houses by force. I will kill them if I have to."
He raised a third finger.
"Third: they leave. If they don't want to accept me as their king, they cannot remain to oppose me. They'll be allowed to leave the North with their families, unharmed. But if they stay and choose to stand against me, they'll have no one to blame but themselves."
He paused, his eyes hardening.
"And make sure they understand that the Free Folk are my people now. I will not tolerate anyone questioning me about them. The Free Folk are part of my kingdom. They have the same rights as anyone else."
Sansa nodded. "Don't worry. I will let them know what it means to join our kingdom—and what the consequences are for refusing."
Jacob smiled. "Good. After you come back, we'll march on Winterfell and take it back from the Boltons."
Sansa kissed him. "We should leave right now."
Benjen stepped forward. "I'll come with you."
Brienne nodded firmly. "I'm going as well."
Allison said, "Me too. And we're not going on the Flying Carpet. We're going on horses. I want to see this world."
Jacob raised an eyebrow. "You want to ride across the North?"
Allison smiled. "I want to see it. Feel it. Experience it." She looked at Victoria. "Care to join me, Mom?"
Victoria smiled. "Sure, sweetheart."
Jacob said, "Alright. But be careful. There are demons in this world—we've already met two of them."
Allison rolled her eyes. "We'll be fine. If we meet a demon, I'll call you immediately and not fight it. Happy?"
"Ecstatic," Jacob said dryly.
---
Outside the simple stone building, Jacob opened a portal to Serendell and brought out horses.
For Sansa and Allison, he brought Nightmare Horses.
For Victoria, Arya, Jon, Bran, Rickon, Meera, Benjen, Brienne, and Osha, he brought large horses from Serendell—strong, fast, and far bigger than any horse in Westeros.
Jacob handed the enchanted map of the Game of Thrones world to Sansa. "Just think of where you want to go, and it will guide you there."
Sansa took the map and studied it. A blue line appeared, showing the fastest route to Last Hearth.
Jacob kissed her. "Take your time. Let Allison enjoy the journey. We're not in a hurry." He paused. "But come back to Serendell every night."
Sansa kissed him back. "Okay. I'll see you tonight."
She mounted her Nightmare Horse.
Allison kissed Jacob as well. "Be good while I'm gone, and don't go traveling alone looking for a new wife."
Jacob smirked. "I'm always good."
Allison snorted. "Sure you are."
She mounted her horse.
The group departed, heading south toward Last Hearth.
---
Jacob turned to Chris. "Alright, father-in-law. You should take care of our army."
Chris said, "I need to see how the Free Folk handle a real army first. I watched the Thenns fight yesterday, but that was against wights—not men."
Jacob replied, "Then you've already seen what they have to offer. They have no discipline, no formation, no structure. They're warriors, not soldiers—fierce, courageous, but completely undisciplined."
Jacob continued, "We need to train them properly. Formation drills. Following orders. Standing in a shield wall when commanded, not charging wildly the moment they smell blood. They need to learn to fight as one unit, not as a thousand individuals trying to prove their own glory and die meaninglessly and take the men beside them down with them."
Chris looked at Tormund. "Really? That's how you guys fight?"
Tormund's face darkened. Then he let out a heavy sigh. "Aye. His Grace is right. I've seen it happen. A hundred strong and fierce Free Folk charging with axes—and getting cut down by twenty trained soldiers standing in a line."
Chris frowned. "That's stupid and won't work in the wars to come."
Tormund sighed. "It's a bitter thing to admit. But we do fight wildly and charge stupidly. We need to change."
Jacob added, "Also, we need to integrate them with the two thousand soldiers who surrendered to us before the battle with Stannis and any soldier that may join us later."
Chris said, "The Free Folk also need proper weapons—steel, not bone or stone. Armor that fits. Uniforms so they don't kill each other by mistake in the chaos of battle."
Jacob nodded. "We'll talk with Ōishi later. He has a few blacksmiths among the people that came with him. They can forge weapons and make shields for us and teach more people to help them. I'll ask Cogman to buy the materials they need from our world."
Chris asked, "What about the three thousand soldiers who surrendered after the battle with Stannis?"
Jacob's expression was cold. "They'll be used as cannon fodder. If they survive a few wars, they'll be treated as our own."
Chris nodded slowly. "Alright. I'll do my best to train the Free Folk."
Jacob said, "Good."
Chris turned to Stiles, Davos, and Tormund. "Stiles, Davos, Tormund—follow me. We have a lot of work to do."
Stiles groaned. "Work? I thought I was just here for the fun parts."
Chris smirked. "I'll let you command the three thousand cannon fodder against the Free Folk in a mock training war."
Stiles's face lit up. "Oh, that sounds fun."
They walked toward the army camps, leaving Jacob alone.
---
Jacob teleported to Melissa's new hospital.
The building was a simple stone structure. A line of Free Folk waited outside, their expressions a mixture of hope and fear.
Jacob watched as Melissa treated a woman with a deep wound on her abdomen. She cut away the rotten flesh, cleaned the wound with alcohol, then placed her hands over it. A soft green light emanated from her palms, and the wound began to close, the skin knitting together seamlessly.
The woman stood up, her eyes wide with disbelief. She touched her stomach, then looked at Melissa with tears in her eyes. "Thank you... thank you, your grace."
Melissa just smiled and said to Shireen and Karsi, "Take her to her family outside and bring me the next patient."
Shireen and Karsi nodded and helped the woman to her family outside the hospital.
Jacob walked to Melissa.
"How's it going?" he asked.
Melissa said, "Good. There are a lot of sick people. It will take me days to heal them all." She smiled. "But I'm happy. This is what I love to do."
Jacob kissed her. "As long as you're happy. And don't overdo it. Rest when you're tired and go back home before dark."
Melissa nodded. "I will."
Jacob left and met Shireen outside. He rubbed her head affectionately. "Keep an eye on Melissa. Stop her if she's exhausted."
Shireen's expression was deadly serious. "I will, your grace."
Jacob said, "Give me your hand."
Shireen offered her hand, and Jacob pressed his palm against hers. A mark appeared briefly on her skin—a symbol of connection to Serendell.
"Now you can go to Serendell and leave it whenever you want," he said.
Shireen's eyes went wide in surprise, then tears welled in her eyes. "T-thank you, Your Grace."
"You're welcome," Jacob smiled. "And call me Jacob."
Then he disappeared.
Shireen stared at her hand where the mark had faded, a smile spreading across her face. Then she turned and hurried to help Karsi.
---
Serendell — Afternoon
Jacob teleported back to Serendell and found Malia and Kitty playing video games in the gaming room.
Malia didn't look away from the screen. "Are we fighting any war soon?"
Jacob sat beside her. "Not yet. We're still planning."
Kitty said, "Boring."
Malia nodded. "Yeah. Boring."
Jacob grabbed a controller. "Start over. I want to play too."
The three of them played video games for hours, laughing and trash-talking each other.
---
A few hours later, Lydia came to the gaming room. She was wearing a beautiful green dress, her hair perfectly styled.
"Jay," she said, "take me on a date."
Jacob looked up from the game. "Right now?"
Lydia nodded. "Right now."
Jacob set down the controller. "Alright," he grinned. "And I loved what you helped Sansa wear yesterday, so I'm taking you shopping."
Lydia smiled. "Really? Then I'll help you make Malia cosplay as a cute Disney princess. Snow White or Cinderella..."
Malia's head snapped up. "Over my dead body. I will never wear those stupid dresses." She paused, then winked at Jacob. "But I don't mind cosplaying as Cat Woman or Spider-Woman or something like that."
Jacob kissed her. "Then I'm looking forward to it." He stood up. "Let's go, Lydia."
Lydia looked at him critically. "Change your clothes first. You can't take me on a date looking like that."
Jacob teleported to his room and changed into something more appropriate—a fitted black shirt and dark jeans. When he returned, Lydia nodded approvingly.
"Much better."
They teleported to Beacon Hills. It was 2 PM, the sun high in the sky, and the streets bustling with activity.
They went shopping—Lydia dragging him from store to store, buying clothes, shoes, and accessories. Then they watched a movie—Pitch Perfect. Jacob didn't like it at all but didn't ruin it for Lydia. Instead, when he couldn't take it anymore, he simply laid his head on her shoulder and took a nap.
Lydia smiled, running her fingers through his hair, and continued watching the movie.
Chapter 215: A New Threat
July 11
The credits rolled across the screen, bathing the darkened theater in soft light. Jacob stirred against Lydia's shoulder, blinking sleep from his eyes as the theater lights came up. He stretched, his joints popping pleasantly, and yawned.
"Did you enjoy your nap?" Lydia asked dryly, though the corner of her mouth twitched with amusement.
"I enjoyed spending time with you," Jacob countered smoothly. "The movie was just... background noise."
Lydia rolled her eyes, but she was smiling as she stood and gathered her things. "Come on, sleepyhead. We have dinner plans."
Outside the theater, the evening air was cool and pleasant. Jacob stretched again. "So, where should we go for dinner?"
Lydia said, "To my mom's. She was the one who asked me to invite you for dinner, so I thought we'd go on a date before we head to her house."
Jacob raised an eyebrow. "Is everything alright?"
Lydia shrugged, though her expression was thoughtful. "Yeah. She said Noah was looking for you because of a case."
Jacob's eyes narrowed slightly. "A case? What kind of case?"
"She didn't say." Lydia laced her fingers through his. "We can find out after we eat. Mom made lasagna."
Jacob's stomach growled. "Then let's go. I'm starving."
They walked to his Camaro. Jacob opened the door for Lydia, then slid into the driver's seat. The engine purred to life, and they drove through the familiar streets of Beacon Hills toward Natalie's house.
---
Natalie's House — After Dinner
The remnants of dinner—lasagna and garlic bread—still lingered in the air when they moved to the living room. The meal had been warm and comfortable, filled with easy conversation and laughter.
Jacob sat on the couch with Lydia curled against his side. Across from them, Noah leaned back in his armchair, loosening his tie with a tired sigh. Natalie sat beside him, her hand resting on his knee.
"So," Jacob said, breaking the comfortable silence, "what case do you need my help with?"
Noah let out a tired breath, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "People are going missing."
"Missing people? Why didn't you tell us yesterday?" Jacob asked.
Noah shook his head. "I didn't tell you because—well, we get reports like that all the time. Tourists wander into the Preserve. Teenagers sneak out. Spouses have fights and disappear for a night. Usually they turn up."
"Usually," Lydia repeated. "What changed?"
Noah met her eyes, and something grim settled in his expression. "We found two of the missing people dead this morning."
Jacob asked, "How did they die?"
Noah said, "They were missing their organs. Their brains and blood were gone too. The coroner said it looked like someone drained them. Surgical, almost. But not clean. There were puncture wounds on their necks—on the carotid arteries—and on their skulls."
"So a bloodthirsty supernatural creature is in town again," Jacob said flatly.
Lydia sighed, pressing her fingers to her temples. "Great. Because we haven't had enough of those."
Noah nodded grimly. "I used the bestiary app, but I couldn't pinpoint what it is. There are too many creatures that feed on humans and drink blood. I went through three pages of results before I gave up."
"Did you ask Cogman for help?" Jacob asked.
"No, not yet." Noah shook his head. "We don't have any surveillance footage for him to work with. All the people who went missing disappeared in the woods and on the roads near the preserve. No cameras, no witnesses. The only thing we have is a clue from the people who found one of the victim's car."
"What kind of clue?" Lydia leaned forward, her interest piqued.
Noah's expression darkened. "They said they heard a scream."
Jacob frowned. "A scream? People scream in the woods all the time. Coyotes, teenagers—"
"No," Noah cut him off. "They said it was a sharp, terrifying scream that paralyzed them with fear. They fell to the ground and couldn't move. Couldn't control their own bodies. They said the scream echoed in all directions—they couldn't tell where it was coming from. Once they could move again, they ran. Found the car crashed into a tree, empty, with no one inside. They didn't stay to look around. They ran straight to town and called it in."
Lydia thought for a moment and said, "I'm eighty percent sure what that creature is. But I could be wrong."
Noah sat up straighter. "Tell me."
"I was reading the bestiary recently," Lydia said. "I was looking for creatures similar to banshees—things that scream, things that use sound as a weapon. And I came across something called a Capelobo."
Natalie's brow furrowed. "What's a Capelobo?"
Lydia's expression was grim. "It's a shapeshifter from Brazilian mythology, a nocturnal predator. It hunts humans and feeds on them—specifically, it feeds on blood and brains."
Natalie's face paled. "Brains?"
"It uses a tubular snout, like an anteater, to pierce the skull and suck out the brain matter," Lydia continued. "It also drinks blood. But that's not the main thing." She looked at Noah. "It has a scream. A paralyzing scream. It uses it to disorient and freeze its prey before it attacks. The scream echoes in all directions so you can't find it. That matches exactly what your witnesses described."
Noah's jaw tightened. "So why are you not sure it's a Capelobo?"
Lydia's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "The Capelobo feeds on brains and blood. But you said the victims are missing their organs too. Capelobos don't harvest organs. They drink the blood, eat the brain, and leave the rest. The organ harvesting—that's something else. That's why I'm only eighty percent sure."
Noah's expression darkened further. "So we might be dealing with something else. Or more than one thing."
Jacob spoke up, his voice thoughtful. "Or the Capelobo is feeding on what it needs and selling the rest."
Noah's eyes widened. "Selling?"
"Black market organ trade is a thing in the supernatural world," Jacob said. "Human organs have value. Some creatures use human parts for rituals, potions, food, and all kinds of things."
Natalie shuddered. "That's disgusting."
"Welcome to the supernatural world," Jacob said dryly.
Noah's expression was grim. "Either way, we need to find whoever is responsible for hunting and feeding on people in town. We already have twelve missing, not counting the two dead victims we found this morning."
Jacob reached into his pocket dimension and pulled out Jack Sparrow's compass. He held it in his palm, focusing his thoughts on finding the creature responsible for kidnapping and killing people in town. The needle spun wildly, refusing to settle on any direction.
He frowned. "It didn't work."
Natalie leaned forward. "What didn't work?"
Jacob held up the compass. "This compass shows me what I want most when I hold it. I focused on finding the creature that's killing people, but it just keeps spinning."
Lydia's brow furrowed. "Maybe the creature is hiding behind a supernatural barrier. Or maybe there is more than one person killing people in town. Or maybe when you want it to find a person, you need to know their name."
Jacob stored the compass back in his pocket dimension. "Then let's do it the old-fashioned way."
He stood up. "Noah, take me to where you found the abandoned cars. And where you found the bodies. I'll call Malia—if we can catch a scent, we can track whatever this thing is."
Noah rose as well, grabbing his jacket. "Okay, let's go. The sooner we find that thing, the better."
Lydia was already on her feet, her hand slipping into Jacob's. "I'm coming with you."
"Natalie—" Noah started.
"Go," she said firmly, her eyes meeting his. "Find whatever is doing this. Just come back safe. All of you."
Noah kissed her. "Alright. See you later."
The three of them left the house and climbed into Noah's cruiser.
---
The cruiser's headlights cut through the darkness as Noah drove them down the winding road that bordered the Beacon Hills Preserve. The trees pressed close on either side, their branches clawing at the sky like skeletal fingers. The moon was hidden behind thick clouds, and the only light came from the police cruiser and the occasional flash of fireflies.
Lydia stared out the window, her expression contemplative. "It's weird," she murmured.
Jacob glanced at her. "What's weird?"
Lydia gestured to the glowing insects dancing in the darkness. "The fireflies. They're not supposed to glow as adults here. California fireflies aren't bioluminescent. Only their larvae glow, and the adult flightless females of one specific species, the pink glow-worm. But these..." She trailed off, watching a particularly bright one drift past the window. "These are something else."
Jacob's eyes narrowed. "Maybe they evolved or came from elsewhere." He paused. "Haven't you noticed something about the supernatural energy in this town?"
Lydia's brow furrowed. "I've noticed it's getting stronger. Not just me—Allison and Malia too. Especially Melissa. She said the supernatural energy is growing stronger by the day." She paused. "But we all thought it was us—that we were just becoming more sensitive to it. Not that the energy itself was increasing."
Jacob shook his head. "No. It's definitely getting stronger. And it might have something to do with us."
Lydia asked, "What do you mean?"
Jacob's voice was thoughtful. "The Nemeton is a beacon of supernatural energy. It's always been there, sleeping in the woods. We've been living right next to it, and we're powerful supernatural creatures. You, me, Allison, Malia, Melissa, Scott, Derek and his pack, and Satomi and her pack—our presence feeds it. It's like watering a plant. The more power we radiate, the more the Nemeton absorbs."
He continued, his voice growing more serious. "And when we killed that yeti-like demon in the woods, its energy didn't just disappear. It had to go somewhere. The Nemeton probably absorbed it—drank it up like a starving animal. That surge of power made it stronger. And now it's producing more supernatural energy than ever before."
Lydia's eyes widened. "So the Nemeton is waking up?"
Jacob nodded. "I think so. And as it grows stronger, the supernatural energy in Beacon Hills will keep increasing. More strange things will happen. More creatures will be drawn here. More people might even develop powers."
Noah grumbled from the driver's seat. "Great. That's just what I need."
Jacob said, "We should go check on the Nemeton once we're done hunting whatever is killing people in town."
His gaze drifted back to the glowing fireflies, and he thought, 'Those fireflies... if I remember correctly, they came to Beacon Hills when Jennifer and the Alpha Pack arrived.' He smirked. 'It seems I'm going to meet Cora soon. I don't know if the Alpha Pack has caught her yet or not, but she'll be fine even if they do catch her. I'll wait until Derek calls when his betas go missing. Then I'll go rescue her.'
---
Noah pulled over near a cluster of police tape that fluttered in the night breeze. A twisted sedan sat off the road, its front end crumpled against a thick oak tree. The driver's door hung open, revealing an empty interior.
"This is the car of one of the missing victims," Noah said, stopping the engine. "The body wasn't in it. We found the victim about half a mile deeper in the woods."
Jacob opened his door and stepped out, the cool night air hitting his face. He inhaled deeply, letting his senses expand—and immediately regretted it.
An intensely pungent stench hit him like a physical blow. He doubled over, coughing, his eyes watering. "Disgusting," he gasped.
He moved to the side, pulling a bottle of water from his pocket dimension and rinsing his nose. Then he took a bra from his pocket dimension and put it over his face like a mask, breathing through it.
Lydia came around the cruiser and stood beside him. "Oh, I just remembered," she said. "The bestiary says the Capelobo has an overwhelmingly foul stink when they shift."
Jacob glared at her. "It's too late to tell me that now."
Lydia wrinkled her nose apologetically. "Sorry, I forgot. But at least we know now that it's definitely a Capelobo we're dealing with." She looked at the bra on his face and raised an eyebrow. "That's Melissa's. Why do you have it, you pervert?"
Jacob took a deep breath through the fabric. The familiar scent of Melissa—petrichor, that earthy fragrance of rain on dry soil, mixed with blooming jasmine—calmed his stomach. "Because Melissa smells so good, and I'm glad I kept this with me. Otherwise, I might have lost my sense of smell just now."
Lydia smirked. "Scott would have had a stroke if he were here."
Jacob ignored her and disappeared. He returned moments later with Malia and Kitty.
"Lydia, explain to them what's going on," he said, moving aside to continue breathing through the bra.
Lydia quickly briefed Malia and Kitty on the Capelobo, its feeding habits, and its paralyzing scream. Malia's eyes glinted with predatory interest.
She approached the crashed car to catch the scent. Lydia called out a warning: "Be careful. It stinks."
Malia didn't take it to heart. She took a deep breath and immediately started coughing violently. She ran to Jacob, snatched the bra from his face, and pressed it to her own. She took several deep breaths before turning to him.
"Now I know why you were wearing Melissa's bra on your face," she said, her voice slightly muffled. "I thought it was just one of your weird habits." She took another deep breath. "By the way, I'm keeping this."
Jacob shrugged. "Keep it. I have more."
Noah cleared his throat awkwardly. "Ahem. Can we go now to the location where we found the body?"
"No need," Jacob said, a cold smile spreading across his face. "We already caught the scent of that disgusting thing." His eyes glittered with malice. "When we find that smelly bastard, I'm not going to kill him. I'll call Cogman to do it."
Malia's smile matched his. "Then let's go hunting."
---
Meanwhile, deep in the Preserve...
Hidden in the side of a hill near a river, deep within the Beacon Hills Preserve, a cave existed where no cave should have been.
The cave smelled of wet earth and copper.
Jennifer stood near the entrance, her arms crossed, trying to keep her breathing steady. The walls around her were a strange fusion of wood and stone—roots twisted through rock as if they had grown together over centuries, though Jennifer knew this place had only existed for a few days.
At the center of the cave, a rough-made table dominated the space. It was slick with blood that dripped slowly onto the earthen floor, pooling in dark patches that glistened in the dim light cast by glowing fungi embedded in the walls.
On the table lay a man. He was still twitching.
Jennifer forced herself not to look away. She had seen death before—she had caused it herself. But this was different. This was a meal.
A woman sat at the table, her back to Jennifer. She was tall and powerfully built, with broad shoulders and a frame that suggested immense strength beneath her deceptively graceful form. Her skin was the color of rich earth, smooth and unblemished, and her long black hair fell in waves past her waist. She moved with a predatory elegance, her fingers curling around a glistening organ she had just extracted from the man's open chest cavity.
She lifted it to her lips and took a bite.
The crunch was wet and obscene in the silence of the cave.
Jennifer swallowed hard. The woman chewed slowly, savoring the taste, her eyes half-closed in pleasure. Blood dripped down her chin, staining her full lips, and she wiped it away with the back of her hand in a casual gesture.
She was beautiful. Strikingly, dangerously beautiful. She looked to be in her early thirties, with high cheekbones and a face that could have belonged on a magazine cover. But there was something behind her dark eyes—something ancient and wild that had no patience for the niceties of human society.
Jennifer had made a mistake bringing her here. She knew that now.
"Rhiannon," Jennifer said carefully, testing the name like it might bite her. The woman had chosen it herself when Jennifer had asked what to call her. "We had a deal. I bring you to a place with a Nemeton, and you help me get my revenge. I've already fulfilled my part. So can you help me kill Deucalion and his pack now? He's already arrived in town."
Rhiannon took another bite of the liver, chewed slowly, and swallowed before responding. "Not yet."
Jennifer's jaw tightened. "What are we waiting for?"
"The Nemeton in this town is too powerful." Rhiannon's voice was low and smooth. "That means whoever is guarding this town is very powerful. We can't make a move until we know what we're dealing with."
Jennifer stepped forward, her frustration building. "There are only two Alpha werewolves in this town—Derek Hale and Satomi. Neither of them is a threat to you and your people. And there's a potential True Alpha, but he's just a teenager and he's not even an Alpha yet."
Rhiannon shook her head slowly, her dark hair swaying. "No. My intuition tells me there is something else in this town. Something dangerous."
Jennifer's voice rose slightly. "What could possibly be more dangerous and powerful than you?"
The air in the cave changed.
Rhiannon's eyes snapped to Jennifer, and they were no longer dark. They blazed a deep, fiery red. The temperature in the cave dropped, and the glowing fungi on the walls flickered as if caught in a sudden wind.
"That's enough, Jennifer." Rhiannon's voice was barely above a whisper, but it cut through the air like a blade. "You are ruining my meal."
Jennifer froze. Her heart hammered against her ribs, and she felt a cold sweat break out on her palms. She couldn't move. Couldn't speak. Those red eyes held her in place like a rabbit caught in a snare, and she understood with absolute clarity that she had pushed too far.
She lowered her gaze and took a step back, her mouth suddenly dry.
Rhiannon's eyes lingered on her for a moment longer—a warning, clear and unmistakable—before she turned back to her meal.
Jennifer sighed in relief.
Just then, the entrance of the cave shifted. Two men ducked through the opening, their clothes damp and mud-splattered. They were both tall and broad-shouldered, with sharp features and eyes that darted nervously around the space.
Rhiannon straightened, her red eyes still glowing as she fixed them on the newcomers. "What did you two do?"
One of the men, the taller of the two, swallowed hard. "Nothing."
Rhiannon's eyes narrowed. "I can tell that you fed outside. Don't bother denying it." Her voice was calm, almost pleasant, which made it all the more terrifying. "Where is the body?"
The second man shifted his weight, his gaze dropping to the floor. "We left them in the woods."
A low growl rumbled from Rhiannon's throat. In a flash, she crossed the cave, her hand closing around both men's throats. She lifted them off their feet as if they weighed nothing, her red eyes boring into theirs.
"You damn idiots," she hissed.
She released them, and they crumpled to the ground, gasping. Rhiannon raised her hand, and from her palm sprouted two small mushrooms. They glowed with a pale, ethereal light, pulsing gently like tiny hearts. She held them out to the two men.
"Eat these," she commanded. "They will protect your minds from being read. Then go kill whoever is probably following your scent."
The taller man shook his head frantically. "No one is following us. We fed on those two people yesterday and walked around the woods. We went to town. We even swam in a river to mask our scent."
Rhiannon's expression didn't change. "We have to be sure." She pressed the mushrooms into their hands. "So you two idiots will stay in the woods. If someone comes looking for you, kill them or die trying. If you survive, wait for me until I find you." She gestured to the glowing fungi in their hands. "Now eat."
The two men exchanged a desperate glance, then raised the mushrooms to their lips and swallowed. Their faces contorted briefly, as if the taste was unpleasant, but they forced them down.
Rhiannon nodded, her eyes fading back to their dark, unremarkable color. "Now go far away from this place and wait to see if someone was following you."
The two men didn't hesitate. They scrambled to their feet and disappeared through the entrance without another word.
Rhiannon turned back to the table, surveying the half-eaten corpse with something like disgust. "We're leaving," she announced.
Jennifer blinked. "Why?"
"Someone is definitely following the scent of those two idiots." Rhiannon wiped her hands on a cloth, her movements brisk and efficient. "I don't want anyone knowing we're here yet. Not until we figure out who the guardian of the Nemeton is in this town. So from now on—no more hunting until I say so."
She raised her hand, and a section of the cave wall dissolved, revealing a dark tunnel. Its entrance descended into the earth before leveling into a straight horizontal passage. The walls were smooth, as if carved by water over centuries. Stone stairs formed at the entrance, leading downward.
"Everyone," Rhiannon called, her voice carrying through the cave. "Bring the livestock and follow me."
From the shadows emerged four women. They moved silently, their faces expressionless, their eyes fixed on Rhiannon with an almost reverent devotion. Behind them came several men, herding a small group of humans—the "livestock." The captives were still alive, Jennifer noted with a chill, but their eyes were glassy and unfocused, their bodies swaying as if in a trance. One of the men carried the half-eaten corpse from the table, handling it with detached efficiency.
Rhiannon descended into the tunnel without looking back. The four women followed, and then the men with their captives.
Jennifer hesitated for just a moment, staring into the darkness of the tunnel. She had started this. She had brought Rhiannon to Beacon Hills, thinking she could use her to get her revenge, thinking she could gain powers from her.
But she realized after they arrived in Beacon Hills that she had been a fool. Rhiannon was too powerful and too dangerous. She would end Jennifer's life if she said the wrong thing.
Jennifer sighed and stepped into the tunnel. The earth closed behind her. The cave collapsed in on itself, the wood and stone melding back into the forest floor as if it had never existed.
Chapter 216: The Hunt
July 13
Noah went back to work after Jacob told him they would let him know what they found.
Jacob and Malia followed the scent through the woods, with Kitty on Malia's shoulder and Lydia close behind. They moved through the dense trees, their supernatural senses tracking the foul trail.
But after nearly an hour of following the scent, Jacob stopped.
"We're going in circles," he said, his voice flat with annoyance. "The scent keeps looping back on itself. And now it's heading toward town."
Malia frowned. "So they're trying to confuse us?"
Jacob nodded. "Or they know we're following them. Either way, we're wasting time." He turned to Lydia. "Lydia, where should we go? Don't think. Just follow your instincts."
Lydia closed her eyes, her breathing slowing. She reached out with her Banshee senses, feeling for the pull of death, the whisper of the supernatural. Her brow furrowed in concentration—and then her eyes snapped open, glowing white.
Without a word, she shot into the darkness, her supernatural speed carrying her through the trees like a phantom. Jacob and Malia exchanged a glance and followed, their own speeds matching hers.
They arrived at a hill beside a river. The area was quiet. Moonlight filtered through the branches, casting silver patterns on the ground. The water murmured softly over smooth stones.
But there was nothing there.
Lydia stared at the hill, her eyes still glowing. "I feel death here," she said quietly. "Strong. Recent."
They searched the area thoroughly—the hill, the riverbank, the surrounding trees. They found nothing. No cave entrance. No bodies. No signs of struggle.
Jacob closed his eyes and extended his supernatural senses, feeling the earth, the air, and the lingering traces of energy that ordinary humans would never perceive.
"I can feel that someone used elemental powers here," he said slowly. "Earth element, to be precise. And there's demonic energy lingering as well." He opened his eyes, his gaze sharpening. "There's also a faint smell of blood." He paused, tilting his head. "And most importantly, I caught the scent of the Capelobo again—or, to be more precise, I caught his scent in his human form. I caught it near the car earlier too, but it was faint there and disappeared, leaving only his disgusting scent when he shifted."
Malia nodded, her nose twitching. "I caught it too."
Jacob smiled—a cold, predatory expression. "Let's go."
They followed the scent—a faint trail that led away from the hill and deeper into the woods.
---
A Clearing in the Preserve
They found them in a small clearing, surrounded by a ring of ancient oaks.
Two men stood in the center, their eyes darting nervously around the forest. They were both tall and broad-shouldered, with sharp features and wary expressions that suggested they knew they were being hunted.
Jacob stepped into the clearing, a cold smirk on his face. "Finally found you," he said, his eyes fixed on one of the men. "You disgusting bastard."
The man in question—the Capelobo in his human form—flinched, his gaze darting nervously between Jacob and the others.
Lydia studied the second man. "What about the other one? What is he?"
Jacob's eyes flicked to the second man. "He's a Wendigo." He frowned, his expression darkening. "And I can feel it again."
Lydia's brow furrowed. "Feel what?"
Jacob's voice was cold. "The demonic energy. It's inside both of them."
Lydia's eyes narrowed. "Are they followers of some demon?"
Jacob shrugged, his gaze never leaving the two creatures. "I don't know. But we'll find out after I read their memories."
The two men exchanged a nervous glance. On the surface, the teenagers standing in the clearing seemed perfectly ordinary—human, unremarkable. But both men could feel it: a wave of danger radiating from them.
The Wendigo spoke first, his voice low and cautious. "Something's wrong with these kids. They feel human, but they arrived moving faster than anything I've ever seen."
The Capelobo nodded, his muscles tensing. "Go all out. Let's kill them as soon as possible."
They shifted.
The Wendigo's body expanded with a sickening series of cracks and pops, his form stretching and contorting until he stood nearly eight feet tall. His head transformed into a white deer skull with jagged antlers, and his eyes glowed a sickly white. A mane of brown fur grew around his head and over his shoulders. His claws extended, long and razor-sharp, and yellow fangs grew from his elongated jaw.
The Capelobo underwent a similar transformation. His body grew taller, reaching eight feet, his frame becoming muscular with a hunched back. His skin became covered in scales, and thick, shaggy brown fur sprouted across his body. His head morphed into that of an anteater—complete with an elongated, tubular snout. His powerful arms ended in razor-sharp, hook-like claws. His feet shifted into something strange—perfectly round, like an elephant's feet. His eyes glowed white.
Jacob and Malia covered their noses in disgust, taking a step back from the overwhelming stench.
Malia grimaced. "I don't want to fight these disgusting guys."
Kitty, still perched on Malia's shoulder, wrinkled her tiny feline nose. "Me too. Jay, burn them to ash."
Jacob shook his head. "We need to read their memories first. I can't burn them." He smirked, a wicked glint in his eyes. "I'll call Cogman to deal with them."
He disappeared.
The Wendigo and the Capelobo looked around frantically, searching for Jacob. But he was nowhere to be found.
They turned their attention back to Malia and Lydia and charged.
Lydia raised her hand, and two fireballs materialized in her palm. She hurled them at the charging creatures. They struck both monsters square in the chest, exploding on impact and sending them crashing to the ground.
"Don't get close to us, you disgusting bastards," Lydia said, her voice cold.
The Wendigo and the Capelobo rose. They were hurt—but not much. Only a few burns on their chests, and those healed too fast—faster than normal shapeshifters should heal.
Just as they were about to charge again, Jacob reappeared with Cogman.
Jacob gestured to the creatures. "Remember: leave the Wendigo alive."
Cogman's eyes glowed bright blue. His smile was wide and deeply unsettling. "How alive do you want me to leave him, sir?"
Jacob's voice was cold. "Barely."
He turned and walked to Malia, Kitty, and Lydia. "Let's go a little further. Let Cogman have his fun."
He wrapped the three of them in his telekinesis, and they all disappeared, reappearing a hundred meters above the clearing, hovering in the sky as Jacob's telekinesis held them like spectators at a bloody theater.
They watched.
---
The Clearing
The Wendigo and the Capelobo stared at the old man in the butler suit before them. He appeared to be nothing more than an elderly servant—harmless, unassuming. But his eyes glowed with an unearthly blue light, and his smile promised violence.
Cogman stepped toward them, hands in pockets and an evil smile on his lips.
"Good evening," Cogman said, his voice smooth and pleasant. "I understand you've been causing trouble in this town. Eating people. Harvesting organs." He tilted his head, his smile never wavering. "We don't like that."
The two creatures roared at him—a challenge, a threat.
Cogman's smile widened. "I am going to enjoy this very much."
The two beasts charged.
Cogman took his hands from his pockets. His left hand shifted into a cannon. A plasma energy blast shot from it, striking the Capelobo in the chest and sending him flying backward. He crashed to the ground a few meters away, his scales smoking.
The Wendigo reached Cogman and slashed with his claws at the old man's head. Cogman dodged with fluid grace, caught the Wendigo's arm, and slammed him into the ground face-first. He straddled the creature's back, caught one of his antlers, and ripped it from his skull with a wet, tearing sound.
The Wendigo roared in agony.
Cogman smirked and was about to stab the Wendigo with his own antler when the Capelobo attacked again. He was fast—faster than any normal shapeshifter. His claws sliced through the air toward Cogman's throat.
Cogman didn't bother to dodge.
The claws struck his neck and shattered.
The Capelobo stared at his broken claws in shock.
Cogman looked at the Capelobo, his expression one of mild annoyance. "It's rude of you to interrupt me like that. But since you're impatient, I will play with you first."
He moved.
The Capelobo didn't even see it. One moment Cogman was on the back of the Wendigo. The next, the Capelobo found himself flying backward uncontrollably, his chest caved in. He crashed through three trees before slamming into a rock outcropping, the impact cracking the stone.
The Wendigo rose, roaring, and charged at Cogman.
Cogman caught his fist—his massive, clawed fist—with one hand. He squeezed.
Bones crunched. The Wendigo screamed.
Cogman shot a plasma blast from his mouth at the Wendigo's knee. The joint exploded, and the creature fell to the ground. Cogman twisted the arm he still held, and the Wendigo's arm snapped with a sound like breaking branches. He pulled violently, and the arm came off—cleanly, neatly, as if he were removing a piece of clothing.
The Wendigo howled, cradling the stump, blood spraying from the wound.
Cogman tossed the arm aside. "Fascinating," he murmured, studying the stump. "I've dealt with your kind before. The supernatural healing of your species shouldn't allow you to regenerate. But your arm is regenerating right now—slowly, but it's growing back." His smirk widened. "Which is to my liking. I wonder how many times I can remove your limbs before you stop growing them back."
He punched the Wendigo in the face, cracking his deer-like skull and sending him crashing to the ground. He put his foot on the Wendigo's chest and caught his intact arm. After breaking it with a twist, he removed it as well and threw it aside. Then he caught the remaining antler on the creature's head and ripped it off, then began stabbing the Wendigo in the stomach—once, twice, again and again.
He only stopped when he heard the Capelobo charging at him again.
Cogman threw the antler aside and broke the Wendigo's legs. "Stay here until I come back from dealing with your friend."
He turned to face the Capelobo, who was charging at him in rage with his claws extended.
Cogman sidestepped. He caught the Capelobo's arm, twisted it behind his back, and drove his other hand into the creature's spine. There was a wet crack, and the Capelobo's legs gave out. He collapsed, paralyzed from the waist down.
"You shapeshifters are not creative," Cogman said conversationally. "You charge like wild beasts every time. All you do is bite, claw, and scream. How dreadfully boring."
He raised his foot and brought it down on the Capelobo's arm. The bone shattered. The Capelobo screamed.
Cogman broke his other arm, then knelt beside him. "Now, let's have some fun, shall we?"
---
High Above
Jacob watched the carnage below, his expression thoughtful. "Something is definitely not right with those two."
Lydia's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"
Jacob's voice was analytical. "First, their eyes were glowing white, which means they're not alphas. But the weird thing is that they could shift into their monstrous forms. The bestiary says that only when a Wendigo reaches alpha status can it shift into its beast form."
Lydia nodded slowly. "It says the same about the Capelobo. They aren't supposed to shift into their beast form until they become alphas."
Jacob continued. "Also, the two of them are way stronger and faster than they should be."
Lydia's expression darkened. "Do you think it's that demonic energy you felt inside them? That it made them stronger?"
"Probably." Jacob's eyes narrowed. "We'll find out soon."
Malia looked down at the clearing, her expression a mixture of disgust and amusement. "Cogman is enjoying himself. I wish I could join him, but those guys stink."
Lydia said, "He's a psychopath. And the worst part is that I don't feel a thing watching him torture those guys."
Jacob's voice was calm. "We've gotten used to killing and maiming people, I guess."
Kitty smirked, her feline eyes gleaming. "I bet the bastard Cogman's torturing right now is really regretting those regenerating powers."
---
Back to the Clearing
Cogman had taken the Capelobo's claws, one by one. He had broken his fingers one by one. He had ripped out his organs and tossed them aside, and the poor creature was miserable as his healing capacity worked overtime—his spleen, kidneys, and liver regenerating from the small pieces Cogman had deliberately left behind.
After a few minutes, the Capelobo turned back to his human form and wept. His regenerative abilities were strong, but they were starting to weaken. They couldn't keep up with the damage Cogman was inflicting.
"Please," the Capelobo begged, his voice broken. "Please, just kill me."
Cogman paused. His smile was gentle, almost kind. "Oh, I will. Eventually." He leaned closer, his glowing eyes boring into the creature's. "But first, I want to hear you scream some more. I want you to feel what your victims felt when you drank their blood and ate their brains. I want you to regret everything evil you did."
He drove his hand into the Capelobo's stomach and ripped out the kidneys that had just regenerated. He tossed them aside again. "Fascinating. This is the third pair of kidneys I've ripped from your body. You know, if humans caught you, they would turn you into an organ farm."
The Capelobo kept screaming in pain.
Cogman didn't stop. He kept torturing the creature until his healing stopped entirely. Then he drove his hand into his chest.
The creature gasped. His eyes went wide.
Cogman's fingers wrapped around something warm and wet. He pulled.
The Capelobo's heart came free—still beating, still pumping blood.
Cogman held it up, watching it pulse in his palm. "Fascinating," he murmured. "So much life in such a small organ."
The Capelobo collapsed. His body went still.
Cogman crushed the heart in his grip and let the remains fall to the ground.
He turned to the Wendigo.
The creature had healed—though his arms had not fully regrown—and was sneaking away through the trees.
"Hey, come back," Cogman called, his voice pleasant. "I won't kill you. Sir wants you alive, rest assured." He moved fast, appearing directly in front of the Wendigo's escape path. "I will be gentle. I promise."
The Wendigo backed away in terror and tried to run in another direction.
But Cogman was way faster.
He caught the Wendigo by the leg, lifted him off the ground, and slammed him into the earth. The impact cratered the ground, sending dirt and rocks flying.
Cogman stood over him. He raised his foot and brought it down on the Wendigo's legs, breaking them one by one.
Then he pulled the new regrown antlers from the Wendigo's skull—one by one—each removal accompanied by a wet, tearing sound and a fresh scream.
He began stabbing the Wendigo with his own antlers, over and over, until the creature turned back to human form—a broken, bleeding man lying in a pool of his own blood. His limbs were shattered. His skull was cracked. He was barely breathing.
Cogman crouched beside him and patted his cheek. "There," he said gently. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"
The Wendigo didn't respond. He couldn't.
Jacob, Lydia, Malia, and Kitty descended from the sky.
Jacob surveyed the carnage. The Capelobo's body lay in pieces. The Wendigo was barely alive.
Cogman cast a cleaning spell on himself and walked to Jacob, humming happily. He bowed his head. "Thank you, sir. And I forgive you for not taking me to the battle at Hardhome."
Jacob nodded absently. "You're welcome."
He walked past Cogman to the Wendigo and crouched beside him. His claws extended, and his eyes glowed red. "Let's see what's inside that broken head of yours," he said.
He inserted his claws at the back of the Wendigo's neck. But just as he was about to read the creature's memories, the Wendigo began seizing. Jacob felt energy gathering in the creature's skull—a buildup of power that was about to release.
He pulled his claws free and teleported back to the others, just as the Wendigo's head exploded with a sickening pop, scattering brain matter across the ground.
Jacob frowned. "Well, someone didn't want us reading their memories."
Lydia's voice was quiet, troubled. "I have a bad feeling. Like something bad is in town."
Jacob nodded slowly. "It's probably a demon." He took out the compass again and focused on finding the demon, but it just kept spinning. He sighed and stored it back in his pocket dimension. "The compass can't find it."
Lydia's brow furrowed. "What should we do?"
Jacob shrugged, though his expression was troubled. "Right now? Nothing. The demon doesn't want to be found, which means it's wary of something and won't cause big trouble for the time being." He looked at Cogman. "Keep an eye on Beacon Hills. If anything suspicious happens, let me know."
Cogman nodded. "I will, sir."
Jacob waved his hand and burned the bodies of the Wendigo and the Capelobo, reducing them to ash. He took out his phone and called Noah.
The sheriff answered immediately. "Jacob. Did you find that thing?"
Jacob's voice was calm. "Yes, we found a Wendigo and a Capelobo, but we couldn't read their memories. Anyway, you should tell us if anything out of the ordinary happens in town. And be careful—there's probably a demon in town, and it was the boss of the two guys we just killed."
Noah sighed. "Thanks, kids. I'll be careful. Don't worry."
Jacob hung up. "Let's go back home."
They teleported back to Serendell.
---
Serendell — The Palace
Jacob found his wives gathered in the shared living room, along with Chris, Victoria, Stiles, Erica, Shireen, and Arya. They had been back for a few hours, chatting and watching TV.
Jacob kissed Allison, Sansa, and Melissa, then settled onto the couch.
Allison's eyes searched his face. "Where have you guys been?"
Jacob told them everything that had happened in Beacon Hills.
Allison's expression was troubled. "That's troublesome. Did you use your compass to find the demon?"
Jacob shook his head. "I did. It doesn't work."
Allison's frown deepened. "Then what should we do?"
Jacob leaned back, his expression thoughtful. "There's nothing we can do now. The demon is hiding, and until it makes a move, we can't track it. We'll have to wait." He changed the subject. "Anyway, tell me about your journey."
Sansa's face lit up. "We reached the outskirts of Last Hearth. We'll arrive tomorrow."
Jacob nodded slowly. "I see. But Smalljon Umber will probably not join us because of the Free Folk. He would rather join the Boltons to fight against us than accept wildlings as his neighbors."
Sansa's expression hardened. "Then we will deal with him according to his answer. If he's stupid enough to attack us, we will kill him."
Jacob shook his head. "Just teach him a lesson and banish him from Last Hearth—along with anyone who doesn't want to join our kingdom."
Arya raised an eyebrow. "Isn't he just going to join the Boltons to fight against us like you said?"
Jacob smiled—a cold, calculating expression. "Probably. And that's what I want. With the Free Folk joining us, we now have an army of thirty thousand men. The Boltons only have around five to six thousand. That's not enough to train our army."
Chris spoke up. "We have thirty-five thousand, to be exact, not counting the ten giants and the samurai."
Lydia's eyes widened. "That's a lot."
Chris nodded. "It is. But we need weapons and armor, and I still need to teach them how to fight like a proper army."
Jacob said, "Go to Ōishi tomorrow and ask him for blacksmiths..." He paused, turning to Cogman. "Cogman, what do you think is the fastest way to make high-quality weapons and shields for thirty-five thousand men?"
Cogman, standing aside with a still-satisfied smile on his face, said, "You abandon the forge, sir. We build an automated manufacturing hub. For swords, we laser-cut high-carbon steel blanks, heat them in induction furnaces, and stamp them instantly with a thousand-ton hydraulic press. Automated kilns and robotic grinders handle the hardening and sharpening. For shields, hydraulic presses stamp out lightweight ballistic polycarbonate or aircraft aluminum in seconds. For spears, we drop-forge the heads and weld them to carbon fiber or aluminum shafts. For bows, we CNC-mill lightweight, flexible composite limbs and aluminum risers for flawless accuracy. For arrows, we utilize automated extrusion lines to churn out seamless aluminum shafts, fitted with machine-pressed steel broadheads and synthetic fletching. Running twenty-four-seven, this single factory hub will produce exactly two thousand complete weapon and shield sets every single day."
Jacob asked, "And these machines and lasers—can they be bought? Or do you need to build them yourself?"
"I don't need to build them, sir. We can buy everything we need from global industrial suppliers," Cogman replied. He closed his eyes, accessing industrial supply networks and logistics databases. A few moments later, he opened them. "We can buy Trumpf fiber lasers for cutting, automotive-grade hydraulic presses for stamping, and induction furnaces for heat treatment. For power, we don't need megawatt diesel generators—we can use arc reactors. I'll bring everything here to Serendell and assemble the line inside a factory. You'll have to help me build it. It will cost tens of millions, but if we wire funds today, we can have everything delivered in a week or two at most."
Jacob nodded. "Do it. Buy everything we need and make a blueprint of the factory you want to build. I'll use my earth element and connection to Serendell to build it for you."
Cogman said, "I will also need to buy some materials to build robots to help me with the satellites and operate the factory."
Jacob waved his hand. "If you need something, just buy it. Don't ask me again."
Cogman said, "Alright. I'll go get busy now." He paused, a hint of his earlier excitement returning. "But don't forget to call me if there is a war."
Jacob smiled. "I won't."
Cogman disappeared, leaving the others to their conversations.