Ygritte's breathing hitched.
Lord Commander Mormont and Benjen Stark were also speechless, stunned by Lynn's shocking declaration.
They had known before that Lynn seemed to have this intention.
But now that Lynn had explicitly stated it, they couldn't help but feel worried.
To make peace with the Wildlings?
To give the Free Folk a way to live?
After thousands of years of slaughter, they and the Wildlings were already locked in a death feud.
How could such hatred be easily resolved?
If Benjen hadn't asked Mormont to spare Ygritte's life, Ygritte would probably have been flayed and executed by now!
"Lynn, do you know what you're saying?"
Jeor Mormont asked tentatively.
His pet raven seemed to sense its master's unease, letting out a few squawking cries.
"I'm very clear, Lord Commander."
Lynn's gaze shifted from Ygritte and landed on Mormont's face, which was filled with shock and incomprehension.
"Our true enemies are not the Wildlings who are coming south to survive."
"But those monsters who can turn the dead into puppets and forge swords from ice."
"The Long Night is coming; we don't have the capital for internal strife."
Although the Night King had been quite quiet recently and hadn't actively attacked the Night's Watch.
But caution is an eternal truth.
Reaching a fragile consensus with the Night King today could lead to betrayal tomorrow; there are never eternal allies in the world.
Lynn decided to change his strategy towards the Wildlings starting now.
He couldn't do it before because he didn't have much say, so he had no choice but to remain enemies with the Wildlings.
But now that he had a dragon, those matters in his heart could be put on the agenda.
Jeor Mormont nodded.
As Lord Commander, he knew better than anyone what was happening beyond the Wall.
Benjen Stark's brow was tightly furrowed.
He wanted to speak but didn't know where to begin.
Lynn's idea was too bold, too crazy.
"What makes you think Mance Rayder will believe you?"
Benjen finally asked the most crucial question.
"He was once one of us; he knows the grievances between both sides better than anyone."
"It's either you die, or I live."
Lynn smiled.
He pointed to the huge dragon head in the courtyard, which was curiously surveying its surroundings.
"Because of this."
Winter seemed to sense its master's summons.
It lowered its middle head, letting out a low dragon roar, its golden vertical pupils showing a hint of confusion.
Just this inadvertent display of dragon might caused the air in the entire prison to solidify.
Yes.
What could be more convincing than a living dragon?
If they didn't comply, then dragonfire would melt them.
Those Wildlings would eventually submit.
"Alright, take her to the Lord Commander's Tower."
Mormont looked at Ygritte in the cage with a complicated expression.
"Give her food, drink, and a change of clean clothes."
...The news that Lynn wanted to make peace with Mance Rayder, the King-Beyond-the-Wall, spread like wildfire, reaching every corner of Castle Black within half a day.
In the Night's Watch mess hall, the atmosphere was terribly oppressive.
The usual crude curses and boisterous laughter had vanished.
Everyone silently ate the black bread and stew in their bowls, but their eyes were filled with shock, incomprehension, and a feeling of being mocked.
"Make peace with the Wildlings? Has Lord Lynn gone mad?"
"The Wildlings have killed how many of our brothers! Now they want us to sit at the same table with them?"
"I admit Lord Lynn is strong, but he's clearly misjudged this; the Wildlings are definitely not to be trifled with!"
Whispers rose from various corners of the mess hall, eventually converging into a surging undercurrent.
Inside the Lord Commander's Tower, the atmosphere was equally heavy.
The First Ranger, the Chief Steward, the Chief Builder... all the prominent figures of Castle Black were gathered here.
Their gazes focused on Lynn, who sat by the fire, casually wiping his sword.
"I object!"
A tall, thin man suddenly stood up.
It seemed he was a traditionalist.
"Wildlings are Wildlings!"
"They are thieves, robbers, and murderers!"
"Our duty as the Night's Watch is to keep them beyond the Wall! Not to befriend them!"
His words were met with approval from most of those present.
They had all survived the battles with the Wildlings, and hatred was already etched into their bones.
Lynn shook his head.
Thieves, robbers, murderers.
How much nobler were those present than the Wildlings?
They were all just trying to survive.
Just then, a long horn blast came from outside.
One blast.
It meant a Ranger brother had returned.
Soon, heavy footsteps sounded outside the door.
The door was pushed open, and a young man, cloaked in black and with a weather-beaten face, walked in.
Jon Snow.
The initial childishness had long faded from his face, replaced by the resolute and steady demeanor of a northern man.
When he saw Lynn in the room, a light instantly sparked in his grey eyes.
"Lynn!"
He strode forward and gave Lynn a powerful hug.
"You're finally back."
"How was your trip to King's Landing? Are my foster father and the others alright?"
Jon's return eased the atmosphere in the room slightly.
Lynn patted Jon's shoulder, signaling him to talk later and discuss the main business first.
"Jon, what's the situation outside?"
Lord Commander Mormont asked in a deep voice.
Jon pulled out something wrapped in black cloth from his Pregnant and placed it on the table.
It was a map.
"We found it outside Craster's Keep."
Jon's voice carried a hint of lingering fear.
"Mance seems to be gathering all the Wildlings."
"I deduce that he is very likely to launch an attack on the Wall."
The room fell into a deathly silence.
Lynn stood up, walked to the table, and picked up the map.
"How many of them are there?" Lynn looked at Jon.
"Countless." Jon's answer made everyone gasp.
"Craster said that from the Frostfangs to the Shivering Sea, almost all the Wildlings beyond the Wall have gathered under his banner."
"They are also fleeing." Lynn saw through it in one sentence.
"Fleeing from those things."
"I propose we vote on this matter." Lord Commander Mormont, seeing everyone's wavering expressions, decided to strike while the iron was hot.
He regarded Lynn as his successor, and whether right or wrong, he would stand with Lynn.
"Those who agree to Lynn making peace with Mance Rayder, raise your hands."
After a brief silence.
Benjen Stark was the first to raise his hand.
As First Ranger, he knew better than anyone how grim the situation beyond the Wall was.
Although those dead men were currently indifferent to them, there was no guarantee they wouldn't attack them someday.
Immediately after, a few more people hesitantly raised their hands.
They were all Rangers who had been out for years; they had seen those "unclean" things with their own eyes and knew that was the real threat.
The traditionalists stood with their arms crossed, unmoved.
Most of the stewards and builders also chose silence.
They had spent years inside Castle Black, and their hatred for the Wildlings far outweighed their fear of an unknown enemy.
Ygritte was brought in.
She had changed into clean black leather clothes, her fiery red hair simply tied back, and her grey eyes were curiously and warily surveying everything.
She had heard their conversation.
She hadn't expected that these "crows" were also facing the same enemy.
"Fourteen votes in favor, thirty-six against."
Mormont announced the result.
The opposition still accounted for the vast majority.
Lynn, however, was not at all surprised.
Why did most reformers in history meet a tragic end?
He knew it all too well and didn't expect this matter to proceed smoothly.
Lynn slowly walked to the center of the hall, his gaze sweeping over every person present.
"I know what you're thinking."
"You hate the Wildlings because they killed your brothers and raided your villages."
"But have you ever thought about why they do that?"
"Because they also want to survive!"
"On the other side of the Wall, there are no warm hearths, no endless black bread!"
"Only biting cold winds and perpetually empty stomachs!"
"And those monsters that can crawl out of the snow at any time!"
"They come south not for conquest, but simply to live!"
"And we, guarding here, kill them batch after batch, believing we are defending the realm, upholding honor!"
"But the true enemy is gathering a great army in the Land of Always Winter!"
"They will not tire, will not fear, cannot be killed, cannot be eradicated!"
"When that army of the dead breaks through the Wall, do you think, with just a thousand of us, we can hold it?"
Lynn's words were like sharp knives, piercing into the hearts of every Night's Watchman present.
The disdain and anger on their faces gradually gave way to solemnity and fear.
"I am not asking for your consent."
Lynn's tone grew cold.
"I am offering you a way to live."
"And a way to live for everyone in the Seven Kingdoms."
Lynn turned and looked towards the door.
Winter's huge head was peeking in from outside the door, its golden vertical pupils coldly watching the people in the room.
"I can ride him, fly over the Wall, and burn all the Wildling Tribes to ashes with dragonfire."
"Or I can fly over and tell Mance Rayder that I am willing to give him and his people a warm home."
"As long as they are willing to take up arms and stand with us against our common enemy."
"The choice is yours."
"To continue clinging to that pathetic hatred and wait for death here."
"Or to put aside your prejudices, and with the Wildlings, fight for yourselves and for all of Westeros, for a chance at survival?"
The entire hall was silent.
Lynn already had considerable prestige here, and everyone had taken every word he said to heart.
Ygritte stared blankly at the man.
His back was already tall.
Now it was like an insurmountable mountain.
Every word he spoke carried an undeniable power.
He said he would give her people a warm home.
He said the dead were the common enemy.
This southerner... he...
Ygritte's heart began to pound uncontrollably.
"Vote again!"
Lord Commander Mormont's voice broke the deathly silence.
This time.
Benjen raised his hand.
Those few Rangers also raised their hands without hesitation.
Then, a few builders, a few stewards... more and more people raised their hands.
But still, a large number of Night's Watchmen didn't know how to choose.
Silent disapproval was also opposition.
Finally, Mormont's gaze fell on the last person.
The young man who had remained silent from beginning to end.
Jon Snow.
Everyone's eyes were focused on him.
The current vote count was twenty-five votes to twenty-five votes, a tie.
"Jon."
Lord Commander Mormont's voice carried a hint of weariness..
"What is your choice?"
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