"Don't worry!" Lynd knocked on the table to draw everyone's attention as he looked around at the pale faces in the tent. "The number of wights might sound overwhelming, but their weaknesses are obvious. Destroying them isn't as hard as you think. Right now, the Silent Men and the Holy Sisters stationed on the Frozen Shore have already wiped out hundreds of thousands of wights. So even if there are tens of millions of them, it's just a matter of numbers."
Despite Lynd's reassurance, no one in the tent looked particularly relieved. They had all seen the Silent Men and Holy Sisters before and had even fought against them.
A small squad of just ten Silent Men and Holy Sisters could easily annihilate a hundred-strong team of rangers. In their eyes, each monk and sister was practically a being beyond human limits.
The Silent Men and Holy Sisters together numbered over a thousand, and they were equipped with specialized weapons designed to kill White Walkers and wights. From the rangers' perspective, it was natural for them to slaughter wights by the tens of thousands.
But ordinary soldiers like themselves were different. Although their weapons, provided by Lynd, were forged with ample amounts of dragonglass designed specifically to fight wights, having the right weapon didn't guarantee survival. If hundreds of thousands of wights charged them like a tidal wave, at best, they might kill two or three before being overwhelmed by the next wave, leading inevitably to their deaths.
The reason these Night's Watch rangers and castle commanders were so clear-headed and realistic about their capabilities had everything to do with their years of harsh experience Beyond the Wall.
None of them had earned their ranks through family ties or status. Those who had gained their positions that way had all fallen to surprise encounters with the undead. Only those who truly understood the horror of the wights and knew how to survive had lived long enough to become ranger captains. That was why they had a far clearer understanding of the White Walkers—and of their own limitations—than anyone else. They would not underestimate the threat simply because of Lynd's words.
Seeing that no one was reassured, Lynd added, "Don't forget, we have the Wall. When the time comes, you'll be defending from atop the Wall against the wight army. I'll also send you even more effective weapons for destroying wights. Barring any unexpected situations, you won't be engaging them directly on open ground."
At that, the mood in the tent lightened slightly. Until now, everyone had been assuming Lynd planned to confront the White Walkers outside the Wall—something that offered no guarantee of survival for any of them.
"What should we do now?" Stannis asked.
"Pack up," Lynd replied. "Prepare to return to the Wall."
Stannis hesitated, then said in a low voice, "There are still many tribes in the Haunted Forest..."
"Leave them," Lynd said, shaking his head. "We won't be able to hold the Frozen Shore much longer. Organized White Walker cavalry have already crossed the Frostfangs, and there are too many gaps for my forces to defend them all. We need to accelerate the Free Folk's migration."
After giving his orders, Lynd instructed Stannis, the ranger captains, and the castle commanders to draft a retreat plan for the Night's Watch and an arrangement for receiving the Free Folk. Then he left the tent, mounted a warhorse, and, accompanied by a team of Night's Watch rangers, rode out of the camp toward the Free Folk's encampment across the field.
...
Soon, Lynd arrived at the gates of the Free Folk camp. Mance Rayder, having been informed by his men, was already waiting there with the leaders of the various tribes.
Lynd dismounted in front of them, walked up to Mance Rayder, and said, "It's been a long time, Mance Rayder."
"Indeed it has, Lord Lynd," Mance Rayder replied, stepping forward to bow.
"You addressed him incorrectly!" one of the ranger captains who had accompanied Lynd frowned and declared loudly, "Standing before you is the King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Ruler of the Seven Kingdoms, the Narrow Sea, and the Free Cities, Prince of the Kingdom of Lorne, Founder of House Tarran and its dynasty—His Majesty, King Lynd Tarran."
The string of titles left not only Mance Rayder stunned but also the tribal chiefs behind him.
None of them had expected that Lynd had risen to become the ruler of the Seven Kingdoms and the master of the Iron Throne. In their minds, Lynd was still just a southern lord.
For those tribal chiefs who were more familiar with geography, hearing Lynd's full titles made them realize that his domain now extended far beyond Westeros alone. His lands had grown vast enough to rival the ancient empire spoken of in legends passed down Beyond the Wall—an empire that had once spanned three continents. And now, Lynd's dominion seemed to stand alongside that mythic grandeur.
"Edd, doesn't it feel awkward saying such a long string of titles?" Lynd turned to the ranger captain and asked.
Dolorous Edd, a familiar face to Lynd, straightened his back at the question and said, "I spent most of the ride over mentally preparing for it. If I didn't say it, I'd feel stifled. So, between feeling awkward and feeling stifled, I chose awkwardness." He smiled at Lynd and added, "Besides, I'm not the only one embarrassed. Isn't Your Grace standing right in front of me?"
Lynd chuckled and showed no sign of blaming Edd. He turned to Mance Rayder and asked, "Shall we talk here at the gate, or go inside?"
"Your Grace, please follow me," Mance Rayder said immediately, turning to lead the way. Surrounded by the tribal chiefs, Lynd entered the Free Folk camp. The warriors lining the pathway to the main tent all paused in their tasks, gathering on either side to watch.
Many of the Free Folk warriors gazed at him with curiosity and awe. Some of the Storm God followers even knelt down, praying fervently as Lynd passed.
Seeing these Beyond-the-Wall tribesmen so devout, Lynd didn't mind performing a few so-called miracles—raising a small whirlwind to lift the kneeling figures off the ground, for instance. His displays only reinforced his identity as the Storm God, prompting even more devout believers and casual followers to kneel and pray.
Watching the scene unfold, Mance Rayder and the other tribal chiefs could only smile bitterly. They were certain that if they rejected Lynd's offer of surrender, they wouldn't even need to worry about the Night's Watch attacking—their own Storm God followers in the camp would likely tear them apart first.
...
"You all should know very well why I'm here." After entering the tent, Lynd sat directly in the chief's seat. Once everyone was seated, he spoke bluntly. "Your war with the Night's Watch has dragged on long enough. Your chances of victory are practically zero, and defeat is inevitable. I don't want this war to continue needlessly, causing more pointless deaths. We're all human. Our true enemy right now is the White Walkers. That's why I came Beyond the Wall myself—to end this war.
"So, what will it be? Will you keep fighting, or will you accept my terms and surrender?"
At his question, the tent fell into silence. The chiefs exchanged glances, each waiting for someone else to speak first. Though surrendering to Lynd wasn't shameful, it wasn't something to boast about either. The first to agree would almost certainly suffer a loss of prestige—and possibly even lose their position as leader. Even though most had already accepted Lynd's terms in their hearts, no one wanted to be the first to speak.
Seeing the hesitation, Mance Rayder, as the leader of the Free Folk, stepped up and said, "We agree to accept Your Grace's offer of surrender."
"Yes, we agree," the others quickly echoed once Mance had broken the silence.
"Good." Lynd nodded, then continued, "Now, state your terms. Speak freely. As long as they're not unreasonable, I'll agree to them immediately. But once everything is settled, there will be no changes afterward."
"How can we be sure those crows won't break their word?" Tormund, ever straightforward, questioned bluntly.
"You don't need to trust the Night's Watch," Lynd said in a low voice. "You only need to trust me. If the Night's Watch violates the agreement, I will punish them and compensate you. But if it's you who break your promises and provoke them to act, then..."
"We won't break our promises!" someone interrupted quickly.
Lynd glanced at the speaker, then looked around at the others, his expression turning serious. "Don't be so sure. You'll be temporarily resettled in the Gift, south of the Wall. After the war with the White Walkers is over, you'll be allowed to relocate elsewhere according to your wishes. But whether you are in the Gift or anywhere else, you must abide by the kingdom's laws. If you break the law, whether you're a tribal chief or not, you will be punished."
He smiled slightly. "You've lived free and lawless Beyond the Wall your whole lives, never bound by any legal order. When the time comes, if you violate the law and are punished, don't accuse me of picking a fight with you or breaking my promises."
The tent fell into heavy silence. Every tribal chief wore an unpleasant expression.
They hadn't become leaders solely through strength. It was their cunning and intelligence that set them apart, and they understood all too well that what Lynd said was not only possible—it was likely. Many of their people would inevitably run afoul of the kingdom's laws, sparking unrest, and dragging others down with them.
But despite this, none of the chiefs showed any intention of rejecting Lynd's offer. They knew full well: if they refused to surrender now, death was inevitable. Even if the Night's Watch spared them, it wouldn't be long before the White Walkers and their wights wiped them out.
The Free Folk knew just how terrifying the White Walkers and wights truly were. And from Lynd's words, they realized that it wouldn't be long before the undead advanced all the way to the Wall. Staying Beyond the Wall would be no different from choosing death.
Some observant tribal chiefs caught a hint of something in Lynd's words and, looking slightly worried, asked, "Your Grace Lynd, are you placing us near the Wall so we'll have to join the war against the White Walkers?"
"Yes," Lynd nodded, his gaze sweeping across the concerned faces around him. "You didn't really think that after accepting your surrender, I'd just let you live peacefully in some safe place, did you? This war against the White Walkers isn't just the Night's Watch's burden. The Free Folk warriors will fight, and so will my army. No one gets to sit this out!"
With that, he steered the conversation back to the main point. "Now, tell me your terms."
The tribal chiefs exchanged looks, and then, starting with the leader of the Thenns, they each laid out their conditions. None of them were excessive—requests for food supplies, land after the war, and, most importantly, the demand that their tribes not be forcibly broken up.
"I can agree to all of that," Lynd said in a firm voice. "But there's a slight problem with keeping your tribes intact. I won't forcibly split you up, but if some of your people wish to leave, you are not allowed to stop them for any reason."
Hearing this, the chiefs' expressions turned sour. They knew all too well that once they reached the South, countless temptations would arise. They doubted their own people would resist them. Even without outside force, their tribes would eventually split—only this time, it would happen by their own hands.
"Can we join Your Grace's army?" Tormund suddenly asked.
"You can," Lynd nodded.
Another chief asked, "Will we be treated the same as others?"
"You will," Lynd replied. "Not only can you join the army, but those among you who prove exceptional will also have the chance to join other departments under my command. And once the White Walkers are defeated, I plan to organize a large expeditionary force to Sothoryos to open up new territories. Everyone who joins the expeditionary force will, once the land is settled, receive a piece of land on the continent of Sothoryos."
Hearing this, the chiefs showed little reaction. In their eyes, it seemed redundant. Lynd had already promised them land as part of their surrender terms, and a distant, dangerous piece of land in Sothoryos wasn't particularly appealing.
Noticing their lack of enthusiasm, Lynd added, "You all know about the Long Night and the Long Winter, don't you?"
"Yes," the tribal leaders nodded.
Lynd continued, "Then you should also know that, according to the old legends, the White Walkers march south when the Long Night comes."
Mance Rayder seemed to pick up on something and asked cautiously, "Your Grace, are you saying that the White Walkers coming south is connected to the Long Night—that the Long Night might really return?"
Lynd answered without hesitation, "It's not a possibility. It's a certainty."