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90.8% The White Knight[Asoiaf Si] / Chapter 78: Chapter 76 - The Night is Dark and Full of Terrors

章節 78: Chapter 76 - The Night is Dark and Full of Terrors

125 AC

Ulf Pov

With a sense of urgency, I swiftly tended to Harlon's head wound, applying a bandage firmly to staunch the bleeding. Not far off, Garmon winced in pain, cradling his injured arm. I rushed to his side, skillfully binding the wound to offer some relief.

"Don't leave," Harlon's voice was weak, laden with concern.

"I have something important to tell you," he added, his words tinged with weariness.

"Stay calm, Harlon. I'll return," I reassured my injured comrade, a touch of determination in my voice.

"Garmon, come with me," I instructed the seasoned ranger, gesturing for him to follow.

Leading Garmon away from the immediate chaos, I guided him toward safety, his trust in my lead evident in his steps. As we moved, the urgency of Harlon's words lingered in my mind, a silent vow to return to his side forming a steadfast resolve within me.

Venturing through the labyrinthine passages of the old stronghold, I finally located the elusive black gate, nestled within the well's depths at the heart of the kitchens. Crafted from white weirwood, its surface bore the haunting visage of a face, weathered and ancient, with eyes like two orbs of milky white. The door emanated an ethereal glow, adding an eerie, otherworldly ambiance to the already mysterious setting.

Approaching the gate, I was taken aback as it stirred to life, the weathered face suddenly speaking, its voice resonating with an otherworldly quality. "Who are you?" it intoned, the words seeming to echo from the depths of time.

Beside me, Garmon stood, his expression a mix of awe and uncertainty, unsure of the unfolding events.

"Recite a portion of your Night's Watch vows," I told the weathered ranger.

Garmon, with a deep breath and a tone of solemnity, began the recitation: "I am the watcher on the walls. I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers. I am the shield that guards the realms of men."

As Garmon completed the vow, the ancient door began to stir, its lips parting with a soft creak. "Then pass," it declared, the words a strange mixture of command and invitation. Slowly, the gate's ancient, wrinkled features contorted and transformed, the lips widening, until the door itself yawned open, resembling nothing more than a vast, gaping mouth within a ring of weathered wrinkles.

"Garmon, come with me," I urged, a sense of urgency in my tone, although I could see the apprehension etched on the ranger's face.

The journey across the Wall was an experience in itself, the biting cold winds slicing through the desolate, icy expanse. Each step forward felt like a battle against the relentless chill, the very essence of winter itself.

"Wait here," I instructed Garmon, a silent understanding passing between us despite his evident unease.

Grimacing against the searing pain that shot through my wounded leg, I clenched the hilt of my sword. Every movement was a symphony of discomfort, but the urgency of the moment overrode the signals of agony my body was transmitting. My other hand instinctively found solace in the dragonglass dagger Ser Alfred had entrusted to me, its weight and edge providing a strange sense of reassurance amidst the desolate cold.

Despite the pain and the harsh conditions, a resolute determination settled within me, lending strength to my resolve. The mission ahead was clear, the stakes high, and the weight of responsibility bore heavily on my shoulders. Steadying myself, I took a deep breath, grounding myself in the face of the ominous and unknown path that lay ahead. With a final glance at Garmon, I turned, pushing forward into the bleak expanse, every step taking me closer to the heart of the chilling mystery that awaited.

As the blanket of night unfurled, a celestial tapestry adorned the sky, stars twinkling with a quiet, ethereal brilliance, casting their shimmering glow upon the land below. Guided by their celestial dance, I found myself drawn to a small hill crowned by a solitary weirwood tree, its alabaster form rising majestically against the backdrop of the night.

Beside this ancient sentinel of the woods stood a figure so rare and mystical—a child of the forest. Their eyes, deep pools of ancient wisdom, met mine with an urgency that transcended words. Each step I took towards this enigmatic being seemed to resonate with purpose, a silent understanding passing between us.

With a deliberate and graceful movement, the child of the forest extended a hand, offering a precious gift—a weirwood seed, cradled delicately in their palm. As I accepted this sacred offering, a profound sense of responsibility washed over me. This single seed held within it the essence of life and the whispers of a thousand stories, a token of connection to the ancient spirits of the land.

Gently, I secured the seed in a pouch, treating it with the reverence it deserved, recognizing its significance in the intricate tapestry of the world.

As the tranquility of the moment shattered, a sudden and bitter wind ripped through the serene atmosphere, jolting me from a reverie. Its icy fingers clawed at my skin, raising goosebumps and sending a shiver down my spine, a chilling herald of something sinister approaching.

In the distance, a figure emerged, cloaked in an aura of deathly pallor. Her presence seemed to suck the very warmth from the air, her skin as cold and pale as the moon's glow, eyes that pierced the darkness, gleaming like frigid blue stars fixated on me.

A primal dread coiled within me, an instinctive warning that this encounter harbored malevolence. The child of the forest, sensing the imminent danger, reacted with urgency, dashing toward the figure with a weapon drawn, a futile attempt to fend off the impending threat. But before any defense could be mounted, a horror unfolded before my eyes.

With a chilling command in the air, the woman's icy touch paralyzed the child of the forest, freezing their movements and with a mere graze of her finger, shattered the mystical being into a myriad of glistening shards. The sound of the child's fragmentation echoed through the night, a symphony of terror that reverberated within my very core.

I stood, petrified, as the sinister entity approached, every step closer plunging me deeper into a suffocating abyss of fear. Her gaze bore into my soul, a gaze that seemed to pierce through my very being, leaving an eerie sense of vulnerability and powerlessness in its wake.

In that haunting moment, fear ceased to be an emotion—it became a tangible entity, a suffocating presence that wrapped its icy tendrils around my heart, paralyzing me in its grip. The darkness that loomed felt more oppressive, and the once welcoming night now seemed a shroud of impending doom.

Approaching with an eerie calmness, she seemed to glide toward me, her movements both ethereal and terrifying. With a surge of adrenaline, I drew my sword, a futile attempt to defend against this otherworldly threat. The blade sliced through the air, a desperate strike aimed at halting her unnerving advance.

But as the blade made contact, a bone-chilling realization struck me. She effortlessly caught the blade mid-air, her touch sending a shockwave of icy terror through my arm. The once formidable sword, a symbol of strength and defense, froze in an instant, the metal crystallizing and shattering like fragile glass in her grasp. The hilt slipped from my fingers, clattering to the ground, a hollow echo of my failed attempt at resistance.

A surreal horror seized me as the remains of the shattered weapon lay scattered at her feet. The feeling of vulnerability intensified, a stark reminder of my powerlessness in the presence of this malevolent force. Her demeanor remained hauntingly calm, a stark contrast to the chaos and terror that engulfed me.

I stood there, trembling, the shattered remnants of the sword a bitter testament to the futility of my defiance. The air crackled with an otherworldly aura, the darkness seemingly closing in, suffocating any sense of hope. In that moment, I felt like a mere mortal facing an entity beyond comprehension, an intruder in a realm of ancient and unfathomable power.

As her hand, cold as the depths of winter, made contact with my face, a strange tranquility washed over me. Her words, soft yet commanding, seemed to weave a spell that dispelled the tendrils of fear coiled around my heart. It was an unnerving calm, a sudden absence of dread that left me both bewildered and strangely entranced.

Caught in her piercing gaze, the initial terror dissipated, and in that inexplicable moment, the sinister aura surrounding her seemed to dissipate, revealing an unearthly beauty. Her features, once foreboding, now appeared breathtakingly exquisite—the curve of her lips, the delicate contours of her form, and the ethereal grace with which her attire draped her, all seemed to exude an otherworldly elegance. She appeared as if she had been plucked from a dream—a vision of divine allure, a mesmerizing figure that held a strange and captivating allure.

In that brief lapse, an overwhelming desire to please her, to bask in her approval, stirred within me. A sense of willingness to comply with any unspoken wish she might harbor took root, a sudden and inexplicable devotion that felt almost beyond my control.

But as realization dawned, a surge of horror and resistance erupted within me. A chilling scream tore from my throat, the sheer force of my own outcry jolting me back to the bleak reality of the situation. The smile adorning her face twisted into a frown, a dark reflection of her initial serene countenance.

Struggling against the lingering enchantment, a fierce battle raged within me. The newfound sense of compliance clashed violently with my instinct for self-preservation. I staggered backward, clawing my way out of the enigmatic trance, reclaiming control over my own willpower and agency, despite the lingering echo of her unsettling influence. The fear, once banished, returned in full force, but so did a renewed sense of determination to resist her beguiling hold over my mind and actions.

"You possess remarkable will," she uttered, her voice a blend of admiration and something darker, "but so did he." Her words cut through the air, a chilling reminder of a history entwined with betrayal and atrocities, memories of a former lover—the Thirteenth Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, who, lured by her, forsook his vows and succumbed to her will.

"I will not submit to you," I asserted, the echo of defiance underscoring my tone.

"I am not him," I emphasized, a fervent declaration fueled by an inner resolve, a firm rejection of the looming shadows of the past that seemed to haunt her words.

Amusement danced in her eyes, a silent acknowledgment of my defiance, a knowing look that hinted at the games she was accustomed to playing.

"Of course, you are not him," she acknowledged, closing the distance between us, each step deliberate, drawing an invisible thread of tension in the air.

"You are stronger," she remarked, her touch grazing my arms, a gesture laden with an unsettling mix of admiration and testing the depth of my resolve.

"Smarter," she continued, her fingers lightly brushing against my temple, an act that seemed to explore the layers of my determination.

Her words cut deeper as she spoke of my lineage, tracing the heritage coursing through my veins, the blood of Valyria—a legacy I carried, a lineage rife with ancient power and a storied past.

"And a dragonrider to boot", she said, standing close enough to feel her breath on my lips.

"We can rule together. You won't have to obey anyone," she whispered as her hands slowly slipped into my pants.

"You'll be the King and I your Queen - nobody will be able to stop us," she said with a mischievous glint in her eye.

My heart raced as her words sank in and her sultry touch stirred something deep inside me.

She whispered in my ear again, her voice husky and full of desire. "Take me here and now." I could feel my heart pounding as I looked into her eyes, their depths seemingly endless. She then began to remove her dress, revealing her beautiful body beneath it.

My breath hitched as I saw her supple breasts and pure white skin. She then tugged at my pants, easily removing them, leaving me completely exposed to her. My head swam with excitement as I fell on top of her onto the soft snow below us.

I entered her and was overwhelmed by a feeling of intense pleasure that seemed to course through my body like an electric current. We moved together in perfect harmony as she ran her hands over my back and shoulders, and kissed me with abandon.

Our passion soared until I was close to reach the peak of pleasure when suddenly there was a flash of light and I lost consciousness.

Third Person Pov

The being known as the Corpse Queen, a title bestowed upon her by the insignificant creatures, once reveled in the glorious reign of thirteen remarkable years, an era that now seemed an eon past. Her mastery over the realms was unrivaled, her dominion unchallenged. The Commander of the Night's watch had fallen under her bewitching spell, surrendering not only his allegiance but his very essence. His soul became a tether to her will.

However, as with all things, the insignificant creatures rallied together, a coalition from the north and the south, aided by the meddling children of the forest, resulting in her forced retreat. Thousand's of years had passed until she found another, one seemingly more potent than her previous consort. Their union promised an unstoppable force. But just as he was about to pledge his loyalty, an unforeseen event transpired, transporting her to an unknown place.

Here, in this unfamiliar landscape, a sight of remarkable simplicity stood before her. Fourteen colossal volcanoes punctuated the otherwise unremarkable terrain. Amidst the unsettling calm, a realization struck her, a sudden understanding of her whereabouts.

Before she could comprehend the full extent of her predicament, a thunderous eruption rent the air. From the heart of a convulsing mountain burst forth a colossal White Dragon, its wings unfurling with a menacing grace. Its countenance bore an expression both dangerous and regal, signaling a power beyond any she had encountered before.

Dwarfed by the overwhelming might before her, she struggled to articulate an explanation, but the Ruler of the Valyrian Gods dismissed her attempts with a mere glance. "He is not YOUR'S to command," the deity proclaimed, his voice a thunderous decree that reverberated through the air. As she turned, she beheld the loathsome greenseer, an architect of her undoing, standing next to the deity. It became painfully clear—this was an orchestrated trap, one designed to seal her fate.

Before she could react, the scene shifted. Her vision clouded, and the next moment, she found herself ensnared by death's embrace. A dragonglass dagger, sharp and unyielding, pierced her heart. The man she had sought to entice stood coldly unaffected, his gaze unflinching, devoid of remorse.

In that fleeting instant, as darkness encroached upon her, she cast her gaze upon the man's hair. It wasn't just a physical trait; it was a mark of a profound blessing, a symbol of the power bestowed upon him. As the consuming darkness swept over her, an unsettling understanding dawned in her final moments.


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There you have it folks, I would love to hear your opinions on the above chapter as well

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