The surviving soldiers of the alliance began to whisper amongst themselves, their imaginations running wild.
"It's impossible."
"If the Night King were dead, all these wights would be too."
However, his words were immediately countered by others. Some among them had witnessed the death of a White Walker, and knew that when one died, all the wights it had created would crumble. And since the Night King had created all the White Walkers, he was the lifeblood of the entire army of the dead.
Regardless, the army of the dead had retreated once again, and all the soldiers and nobles of the alliance had been spared.
They watched as the endless horde of wights passed by them, slowly heading north until their figures disappeared from sight.
"We're alive... we're finally alive."
Some couldn't help but weep with joy, embracing each other, while others simply lay down in the snow and fell into a deep sleep.
"Quick, fetch the maester!"
King Robert Baratheon, who had been shot in the right chest, was laid on the ground. His blood stained the white snow. The maester who had accompanied the army was hastily summoned to save the king's life.
King Robert had fallen into a coma after being shot, and the alliance was now leaderless. Among the nobles present, none had the weight or ability to take up the mantle of command, not with the likes of Eddard Stark, the Duke of Winterfell, and Stannis Baratheon, the Duke of Dragonstone, absent.
"I propose... I..."
Edmure Tully, the heir to Riverrun, seemed eager to step forward, but as he rose, clad in clean armor and leaning on his sword, he was met with silent mockery from the other nobles. He shook his head.
"Edmure!"
His uncle, Brynden 'Blackfish' Tully, clad in the armor of the Vale, didn't want to see his nephew ridiculed by the other nobles. He interrupted Edmure bluntly.
The young heir to Riverrun looked at his uncle, seemingly unaware of the laughter on the faces of the others. Brynden sighed and spoke.
"Sit down."
Edmure might be the heir to Riverrun, the future lord, but as long as his father still drew breath, he was not yet the lord of the Riverlands. The others still saw him as an unproven young man.
"Ser Barristan Selmy should take command."
Jon Royce, the representative of the Vale's forces, suggested that the commander of the Kingsguard temporarily take command. Ser Barristan Selmy was a man of ability, status, and character, and was well-suited to take temporary command of the army.
More importantly, the Kingsguard only served the king and did not involve themselves in the disputes of the other noble houses of the Seven Kingdoms. In this situation, they could command respect and unite everyone.
As expected, Jon Royce's proposal was not opposed by the nobles present. They looked at each other and then nodded in agreement.
"Agreed."
"I concur."
"I agree."
Ser Barristan Selmy did not refuse or decline. He took on the heavy responsibility and temporarily assumed the position of commander in the king's stead.
"I thank you all for your trust."
Then, leading the remnants of the alliance and the unconscious king, he prepared to retreat south.
Just then, a flurry of snow announced the arrival of Tywin Lannister, bearing the golden lion banner, finally arriving with his forces.
...
Meanwhile, far from the battlefield, on the opposite bank of the Green Fork...
The ground where the King of the Dead and the human king had fought was scorched black by dragon fire.
The figure of the Night King was slowly fading into the distance, and the silver-armored dragon knight, unable to support himself any longer, fell to his knees once again.
Crack—
His bright armor made a sound, reflecting the morning sun.
After a night of fierce battle, the clouds in the sky dispersed, as if the clouds had been parted to reveal the sun, and the brilliant sunlight once again shone upon the earth.
Viserys was completely exhausted. After falling to his knees, he simply threw the divine weapon, Twilight, to the side and lay down on the scorched earth covered in a layer of snow, sprawling out in a large X.
His companion, the black dragon Balerion, also descended from the sky, not pursuing the Night King.
Boom—
The dragon landed heavily on the ground, stirring up dust. Its long neck stretched out slightly, and its ferocious dragon head nudged Viserys on the ground.
Realizing that his companion was not dead, but rather making a 'get lost' gesture, Balerion raised its neck and let out a long roar.
The dragon and its rider shared a unique mental bond. Balerion knew that Viserys was not dead, just a bit exhausted.
Just then, a figure was slowly approaching Viserys.
Swish...
The woman in the red dress, her copper-colored hair fluttering in the wind, walked amidst the smoke and stench of the battlefield, her dress rustling in the wind.
Balerion noticed someone approaching and turned its head, letting out a low warning growl.
But when it saw who it was, the dragon's massive head slowly rose, its
crimson eyes locked onto the red priestess below. It did not prevent her from approaching Viserys, but rather let her pass.
The dragon had a unique sense for humans. It sensed that Melisandre meant no harm to Viserys, considered her a friend, and therefore did not make things difficult for her.
The red-robed priestess who was slowly approaching also looked up at the colossal creature.
The dragon radiated an astonishing heat. When Balerion landed on the ground, the surrounding snow began to melt, turning into slush.
Melisandre saw that the dragon did not intend to stop her, knew that it understood human nature, and so she gave a slight curtsy before walking towards Viserys.
Swish—
The dragon knight, who had been lying on the ground without any dignity, now got up from the ground.
"Ugh."
He spat out a mouthful of scorched earth and snow that had splashed into his mouth when Balerion landed.
"Your Grace."
Melisandre came to Viserys's side.
She glanced at the divine weapon, Twilight, thrown on the ground, then her beautiful eyes fell back on Viserys. She spoke softly.
"You have saved countless lives by driving back the Night King single-handedly."
Then the red priestess looked in the direction where the Night King had retreated.
"The Cold God has retreated this time, winter has passed, and a long summer is coming."
"I suspect that at least for the next five years, they will not return south of the Neck."
"What are your plans now?"