Time seemed to slow to a crawl in this moment.
Ragnar Bloodaxe's body froze.
His crimson eyes bulged, and he looked down in disbelief at the longsword piercing his chest.
A numbing sensation exploded from the wound, instantly eroding his entire body, violently stripping away his control over his own limbs.
"Poi... son?"
"Hurk... hurk..."
Ragnar opened his mouth to let out a final roar, but only air mixed with bloody froth gurgled from his throat.
His prideful strength, his body as powerful as a giant bear, seemed so fragile in this instant.
Lynn's gaze turned vicious.
He twisted his wrist sharply.
The longsword churned savagely inside Ragnar's warm flesh, thoroughly pulverizing his heart.
"Argh—!"
The intense pain made Ragnar let out a short, miserable scream.
The fierce light in his eyes rapidly dimmed.
Lynn yanked the longsword out.
Warm blood sprayed out like a fountain, splashing over his hand.
Ragnar's tower-like body swayed.
Then, with a thud, he fell straight backward.
He hit the ground heavily, kicking up a spray of ice and snow.
> [Killed Wildling Chieftain x1, Experience +5]
The system's cold notification rang in his mind as expected.
Lynn glanced at his panel.
Killing a chieftain actually gave 5 experience points!
Indeed, the stronger the opponent, the more experience he gained from the kill!
Lynn suppressed his joy, suddenly feeling a slight numbness in his hand.
Looking at the blood on his hand, Lynn frowned tight.
The poison was still too potent; even the enemy's blood carried a paralyzing effect. Fortunately, the lowered concentration had weakened it significantly.
It seemed poison must be paired with ranged weapons.
Only now did he understand what Maester Aemon meant by a double-edged sword.
Lynn carefully assessed the feeling.
This paralytic poison didn't remove pain; it only stripped away the ability to control one's body. It was domineering.
Lynn quickly wiped the blood off with his clothes and scanned his surroundings.
Those wildlings still putting up a stubborn resistance witnessed their strongest leader slaughtered like livestock.
The last bit of fighting will in their eyes was thoroughly extinguished.
"The chief is dead!"
"Ragnar is dead!"
Someone let out a desperate scream in the wildling tongue.
The morale of the entire clan collapsed instantly.
Wildlings dropped their weapons.
Crying and shouting, they began to flee madly toward the valley exit like a startled herd of beasts.
"Don't let them escape!"
Lynn's voice exploded.
These were all walking experience points!
Moreover, they were mortal enemies of the Night's Watch. In the original story, the Watch executed captured wildlings by beheading or hanging.
Wildlings were even crueler to captured Watchmen, usually chopping them up to feed livestock.
With such bad blood between the two sides, showing mercy would be irresponsible to his own men.
The teams led by Torren and Harvey flanked from both sides.
The archers also emerged from the shadows, nocking arrows and aiming at the fleeing backs.
A chase and slaughter played out in the chaotic camp.
Wildlings who had lost their will to fight were utterly vulnerable before the well-equipped, high-morale Northern soldiers.
The battle ended quickly.
In the entire valley, aside from a few captives, not a single standing wildling remained.
The air was thick with the heavy scent of blood.
"My Lord!"
Torren strode quickly to Lynn, his face full of irrepressible excitement and adoration.
"We won! We wiped them out!"
"Casualties?"
This was Lynn's primary concern.
"Only five brothers with light injuries, no deaths!"
Torren's voice was full of pride.
Their Lord Lynn was simply too awesome.
Winning against greater numbers, and wiping out a five-hundred-strong wildling clan with a hundred men at almost zero cost!
Even with armor against no armor, this was still a monumental victory!
The way all the guards looked at Lynn changed.
It was a heartfelt worship and conviction toward a strong leader.
> [Your soldiers killed Wildling x527, Experience +612]
"Upgrade One-Handed Sword to the next level!"
"Put the rest into Light Sword!"
> [Consumed 500 Experience. One-Handed Sword (Proficient) 0 -> 500 Experience Full]
> [One-Handed Sword (Proficient) -> (Expert) 0/1000]
> [Remaining Total Experience: 160]
> [Consumed 160 Experience. Light Sword (Expert) 0 -> 160]
> [Light Sword (Expert) 160/500]
A massive surge of combat insight washed over Lynn's mind.
He felt as if he had experienced thousands of life-and-death duels. His understanding of the One-Handed Sword leaped from "proficient use" to "mastery."
The transmission of power, the choice of angles, the grasp of timing...
Everything became instinct.
"Is this the Expert level?"
Lynn muttered to himself, then issued orders.
"Clean up the battlefield."
"Collect all weapons and valuable items."
The guards interrogated the wildlings, but they only stared back with hateful eyes and tried to bite the guards with their teeth.
"Forget it. Taking these captive wildlings back will only result in Mormont executing them."
"Question them first. No torture, no abuse. Then give them a quick death!"
There was no helping it.
With everyone watching.
On one side were the wildling enemies, on the other the Lord Commander's orders. The choice was clear.
Releasing them would be treason. If word got out back at the Wall, execution was the only path.
The honor of the First Men kept the wildlings from bowing to the kings south of the Wall.
With ancestral grudges and thousands of years of killing, hatred wasn't easily dissolved.
At least at this stage, without the White Walkers pressing them, these wildlings had no intention of going south to hide.
Only when the White Walkers approached would they become desperate.
That would be the key to reconciliation.
Lynn certainly had thoughts of subduing them, especially the giants—paired with huge tree trunks, they were invincible—but absolutely not at this stage.
Soon, Lynn gained another 44 experience points.
Then, the guards began excitedly rummaging through the camp.
Lynn walked into the huge bear-skin tent.
Inside, a strong stench of body odor and urine assaulted his nose.
Who knew how long it had been since Ragnar washed himself; it stank to high heaven.
Messy furs covered the ground, and a pile of human skulls lay in the corner.
These were obviously Ragnar's "trophies."
And Lynn's former crow colleagues.
Lynn frowned and began searching carefully.
A clan chief's tent should have something good.
Soon, his gaze was drawn to a wooden chest at the head of the fur bed.
The chest was ancient, inlaid with some unknown metal forming twisted runes.
Lynn pried open the lock with his dagger.
Inside, there were no gold or jewels, nor any magical Frostheart.
Only a map tanned from human skin, and several black, stone-like objects.
Lynn picked up the black stones.
They were cold to the touch but very light.
The surface was smooth, like glass.
Dragon glass!
Lynn examined them closely.
No mistake!
Lynn's heart skipped a beat.
This stuff was the nemesis of the White Walkers!
In the coming Battle for the Dawn, the value of this stuff was comparable to Valyrian steel!
He hadn't expected to find such treasures in a wildling chief's chest.
Lynn suppressed his ecstasy and carefully tucked the dragon glass into his tunic.
Then, he unrolled the human skin map.
The drawing style was very crude, done with charred charcoal and unknown red liquid.
It depicted the terrain of the Haunted Forest and surrounding areas.
Lynn couldn't understand most of it.
But in the center of the map, a symbol resembling an eye drawn in red dye instantly captured all his attention.
Beside the symbol was a line of small characters written in the ancient tongue of the First Men.
Lynn couldn't read it.
But he knew this must be extremely important.
This might be why Ragnar's clan appeared here.
They seemed to be looking for the place marked on the map.
"My Lord!"
Torren's voice came from outside the tent.
"We found something!"
Lynn stashed the map close to his body and walked out.
He saw several guards gathered around a half-burnt tent, discussing something animatedly.
Lynn walked over.
In the ruins of the tent, he saw several corpses.
But something was wrong with them.
Their eyes were a bizarre, sapphire-blue color.
Reflecting the dancing firelight, those eyes stared eerily at the grey sky.