The cavern was far more spacious than expected.
A smell hit them—dust mixed with ancient ice. It stung the nose, made eyes water.
Torchlight flickered through the narrow passage. Shadows on the walls stretched, twisted, as if alive.
The walls were covered in murals.
Crude style. Simple lines.
But primal. Unsettling.
Just looking at them sent chills crawling up every Northern soldier's spine.
The first mural: humans clad in animal skins, kneeling in snow, bowing to a red eye burning with flame in the sky.
The second: a blue eye descending upon the earth. Where it passed, forests turned to ice, rivers froze, and the land was buried in snow.
The third: humans in pelts cutting down weirwoods. The Children of the Forest appeared. War. Bodies everywhere.
The fourth: half-erased, as if deliberately scraped away. Only one image remained—a Child of the Forest driving a dagger into a human's chest. The blade glowed faint blue. Above, the massive blue eye watched.
The fifth: countless fallen corpses rising from the snow. Their empty sockets glowed with the same blue light as the dagger. An endless army of the dead.
The final mural: the surviving First Men fleeing south, pursued by the army of the dead. Behind them—a sea of bones and despair.
"The Long Night... this is the Long Night."
An older ranger's voice trembled. His sword shook in his grip.
Legend wasn't just a story.
These murals were the most direct—and bloodiest—record of the cataclysm that nearly destroyed all life.
Lynn didn't linger on the paintings.
His gaze pierced through the narrow passage, straight to the deepest part of the cavern.
There—a platform carved from ice crystal.
And on it, something glinted faintly in the firelight.
What is that?
Lynn's heart skipped a beat. Then it began to pound.
He quickened his pace.
As he drew closer, the shape became clear.
An egg.
About the size of a melon.
Ice-blue. Its surface covered in fine, scale-like patterns.
It lay quietly on the crystal platform, as if it had slept for eons, fused with the ancient ice around it.
But Lynn knew.
This was no ordinary stone.
The perfect oval. The scaled texture.
Everything screamed one insane possibility.
A dragon egg.
A completely petrified dragon egg.
"Dragon... egg?"
Torren, following close behind, finally saw it. His throat tightened. The words came out dry.
His voice echoed strangely in the silent cavern.
Everyone crowded forward, eyes burning as they stared at the stone egg.
Their faces mixed awe, curiosity—and a primal, blood-deep fear.
Dragons.
Magical creatures that existed only on Targaryen banners now.
Extinct on this continent for over a century.
Why is its egg here?
Beyond the Wall. In a wildling altar dedicated to some unknown god.
Lynn had expected treasure. Maybe a blessed relic.
At worst, some ancient relic of the Children. Or clues about the White Walkers.
Who could've imagined—a dragon egg?!
Even if it looked petrified, it was still a dragon egg.
And dragon eggs could be hatched.
Daenerys Targaryen had done it. Three fossilized eggs. Three living dragons.
If I can hatch even one...
Robert's throne? Lannister gold? Northern honor?
All of it—worthless before dragonfire.
Heat surged from his feet to the crown of his head. Lynn's blood felt like it was boiling.
He had to use every ounce of willpower not to laugh out loud.
He forced himself to calm down. Took a deep breath of cold air.
Then he reached out.
"Lord! Be careful!"
Torren jolted forward, voice sharp.
"This place is cursed. That egg could be—"
"Yes, Lord."
Jason echoed nervously.
The guards and rangers all looked at Lynn with worry.
They'd rather fight a whole band of wildlings than watch their commander touch something this strange.
Lynn glanced back. Forced a reassuring smile.
"Relax."
He knew what they feared.
He knew Benjen might have fallen victim to something here. Don't touch it.
But he also knew what this dragon egg meant.
This was the biggest, hardest card he could play in this game of thrones.
If I don't gamble now, what's the point of being a transmigrator?
Fortune favors the bold.
Besides—he still had that one-time system protection.
Let's do this.
No more hesitation.
Lynn's fingers touched the cold stone egg.
Cold. Hard. Heavy.
Just like a smooth, polished rock. Nothing special.
Disappointment flickered through him.
Is it really just a lifeless fossil?
Just as he was about to lift it—
Everything changed.
The ice-blue egg seemed startled by the warmth of his palm.
The dragon-scale patterns on its surface lit up.
Thin cracks—like a spiderweb—spread rapidly from where his fingers touched!
Crack... crack...
A faint but undeniable pulse of life transmitted from inside the egg into Lynn's palm.
It's alive.
Lynn's pupils shrank to pinpoints. Joy exploded in his chest—fiercer than ever before.
But before he could savor it for even three seconds—
A presence.
Indescribable. Terrifying. From beyond the sky.
It surged through his arm and crashed into his mind.
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
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