ebookpocket.com #408 - Chapter 142 Successful Evacuation
#408 - Chapter 142 Successful Evacuation
Three consecutive rounds of cannon fire triggered a small-scale avalanche, sending countless wights tumbling down with the falling ice and snow. "Crackling!" The sound echoed, like a symphony of death, as these wights fell into the human ranks.
Jon urgently ordered everyone to scatter and seek cover from the impact. The cliff face wasn't particularly high, only about eighty or ninety meters, but it was extremely steep, almost perpendicular to the ground. Through the gap blasted by the cannons, they could clearly see the densely packed wights above.
Realizing they could no longer remain hidden, the wights, driven by the White Walkers, began leaping from the cliff one after another. Despite the thick snow below providing some cushioning, the first few waves of wights were smashed to pieces, their limbs broken and scattered. Not a single body remained intact, and some were further pulverized by the constant stream of falling comrades.
Jon's face darkened considerably. He had not anticipated that the White Walkers would attempt to bypass their defenses by scaling the mountains. This meant all their previous efforts had been in vain. The White Walkers had not only successfully avoided the still-burning forest but had also rendered their carefully constructed third line of defense useless. He couldn't help but blame himself, realizing he had underestimated the White Walkers' intelligence and capabilities. After all, these were the same beings who had fought the First Men for thousands of years, forcing them to build the Wall to keep them out. Now, it was clear that this enemy was not to be taken lightly, their tactics were varied and unpredictable, catching Jon and his forces off guard.
If the fleet at sea hadn't spotted the White Walkers' movements and alerted them, these terrifying wights would have slipped past their defenses and appeared silently at Hardhome. There, the unsuspecting people would have faced a horrific massacre, and they would have been trapped, their retreat completely cut off.
A wave of despair washed over Jon, but he quickly regained his composure. He grabbed Valamyr by the arm, his voice stern, "No matter how you do it, you need to find out what's happening up there! Otherwise, we're all going to die!"
Startled by Jon's outburst, Valamyr trembled and nodded repeatedly. He closed his eyes tightly and entered a trance. A raven took flight, carrying his consciousness to survey the battlefield from above. Other skinchangers, disregarding the weakness that followed their transformations, also linked with birds.
This time, the White Walkers didn't bother concealing their presence and didn't attack the flying birds. After a few moments, a raven returned, and Valamyr, wiping the blood from his nose, reported the situation to Jon.
Beyond the cliff was an extremely narrow ridge, with an endless stream of wights slowly making their way across. On the other side of the mountain was a relatively gentle glacier, which the wights had used to climb up.
Valamyr pointed to the cliff and said, "We're in big trouble. Some White Walkers have already crossed us. The path above is difficult, but many wights are already heading toward Hardhome. The worst part is that the path behind them is relatively flat."
Jon only needed a moment to understand the situation. He immediately made a decision and ordered, "There's no point in staying here. Forget about the crippled wights. Everyone, retreat! Return to Hardhome and prepare to make a final stand against the White Walkers! Tell Rickon to have the fleet provide fire support!"
Upon receiving the order, the human soldiers acted quickly. They didn't hesitate to abandon any non-essential items, gripped their weapons tightly, and ran back the way they came without looking back. In truth, they had been eager to leave this dangerous place, only waiting for the order.
However, unlike the wildlings, the Night's Watch soldiers maintained their formation. They stayed close to Jon, providing rear guard cover.
Tormund scratched his head awkwardly, apologizing, "We free folk are stubborn. When things go wrong, everyone just runs. Even I can't get them back together."
Jon nodded understandingly, indicating that it wasn't Tormund's fault. His attention was focused on the cliff above, closely monitoring the wights' movements.
The White Walkers were also confused. When they realized they had been discovered by the humans, they immediately ordered the wights to jump off the cliff, trying to pin down the human army below. At the same time, the other wights quickened their pace. However, to their surprise, the humans, who had been fiercely resisting, ignored the jumping wights and suddenly retreated without warning.
This was awkward. The bait was set, but the fish had escaped. After a brief exchange, the White Walker leaders decided to continue with their original plan. They ordered the wights who had jumped down to pursue, trying to engage the human army. However, the wights who had broken limbs were too slow to catch up to the fleeing humans. Helpless, the White Walkers had to order the wights at the front to jump off the cliff, trying to block the humans' retreat.
Meanwhile, the fleet at sea was moving slowly along the coastline, its cannons firing continuously. A rain of fireballs rained down on the cliff.
Rickon watched anxiously, his eyes wide, shouting urgently, "Blast them! Burn those things to death!"
Ael Crawle shook his head, answering calmly, "Lord Rickon, the current rate of fire is sufficient. The White Walkers' real attack hasn't started yet. Hardhome is the real battlefield. We need to make sure we have enough ammunition to deal with the more intense fighting ahead."
Rickon said apologetically, "Sorry! Commander Ael, I lost my composure."
Ael smiled, reassuring him, "It's alright. This is your first time encountering White Walkers. You'll get used to it."
Rickon frowned, asking worriedly, "What should we do now? Should we notify Robb to prepare?"
Ael waved his hand, signaling him not to worry, "Lord Rickon, rest assured! I contacted Hardhome as soon as the White Walkers were discovered. We have our own skinchangers who can relay messages at any time."
Accompanied by the roar of cannons, Jon led the Night's Watch back to Hardhome. Seeing the devastation outside the settlement and the empty animal skin tents, the weight on his heart finally lifted.
Robb had received the information in advance, and he decisively issued an order to accelerate the evacuation. To save space on the ships, they didn't hesitate to abandon all unnecessary items in the outer camp.
Robb had recently returned to Davos, learning of Stannis's death and witnessing his body. Robb's feelings for this former opponent were complex. Although Stannis presented a stern image, both friend and foe respected his character. However, the more pressing issue at hand was ensuring the safe evacuation of the demoralized soldiers. And where would this army go? That would have to be decided later.
Stannis's soldiers were well-trained and disciplined, in stark contrast to the wildlings' disorganization. However, at this critical moment, the soldiers acted quickly, following Bran's instructions, organizing themselves into groups, and beginning an orderly retreat.
As the wildlings left, the number of Northern soldiers left to monitor and provide early warning gradually decreased. Robb knew he needed enough soldiers to control the wildlings to ensure stability and prevent chaos. By noon, all the wildling women and children had been evacuated, leaving only about three or four thousand wildling adults and a thousand Northern soldiers.
Bran made a decisive decision, ordering them to use small boats to build temporary pontoon bridges, connecting them to the floating platforms at sea.
Robb asked in confusion, "Bran, what are you doing?"
Bran replied, "Jon's forces are covering the rear, and the White Walkers won't give them time to retreat safely. By building these temporary pontoon bridges, they can come directly to the sea, and then slowly transfer by ship. This will greatly increase efficiency and ensure their safety."
Robb thought this was a great idea and immediately ordered the army to fully cooperate. However, before long, a series of loud cannon shots came from afar. The sound grew louder and louder, and even in Hardhome, people could hear it clearly. Robb's heart tightened, knowing that something must have happened at the front.
Sure enough, a sentinel hurried back to report. The White Walkers had climbed the ice mountain from the other side, bypassing the front-line blocking forces. Fortunately, Jon and his team had discovered the White Walkers in time and quickly retreated towards Hardhome.
As time passed, the wildlings who had fled first gradually approached. They were numerous, a dark mass, giving a sense of oppression. Due to the urgency, only thirty-one of the planned fifty floating bridges were completed. Northern soldiers and some wildling leaders began to shout anxiously, arranging for the wildlings to evacuate safely from the floating bridges. But the situation became more and more chaotic, with many wildlings being pushed off the bridges and falling into the icy sea.
When Jon arrived with the remaining men, he found that more than two thousand people had not yet been successfully evacuated. They were crowded together, panicked, and the scene was very chaotic.
Jon waved his sword, shouting loudly, "Form ranks!" The Night's Watch soldiers quickly formed a line on the periphery, preparing to meet the enemy. However, the panic in the crowd was still difficult to calm.
Tormund, carrying a huge axe, strode forward, trying to maintain order. But the wildlings seemed to have lost their minds and would not listen to him. Seeing the White Walkers about to catch up, Tormund was anxious and swung his axe at the disobedient wildlings. Blood splattered, dozens of heads fell to the ground, and the chaotic wildlings finally calmed down.
At this moment, Bran stood on a small boat, putting his hands to his mouth and making a low buzzing sound. He used the ability he had learned from the Three-Eyed Raven to silence everyone.
"Listen to me!" Bran's voice clearly reached everyone's ears. "Don't panic, listen to the soldiers' commands, you must evacuate in an orderly manner. Otherwise, the White Walkers will catch up, and everyone will die!"
The wildlings stopped and looked at Bran. Their eyes flickered with fear and despair, but also with a glimmer of hope.
Under Bran's influence and the threat of the bloody axe, the wildlings gradually regained their composure. They listened to the soldiers' commands and began to cross the bridges in an orderly manner. However, just as the last group of people was about to board the ship, the army of wights finally caught up. They surged like a tide, their numbers staggering. Of course, they were greeted by a volley of cannon fire, and thousands of wights were instantly turned to ashes in the flames. The roar of the cannons was deafening, and the fire illuminated the entire night sky.
Finally, all the wildlings were safely evacuated from the land, and the White Walkers were temporarily blocked on the shore. Jon and Tormund collapsed to the ground, exhausted, but filled with relief. They had successfully completed their mission, protecting the lives of the wildlings.
On the mountaintop, a row of figures appeared. Leading them was the Night King. His cold blue eyes stared at Hardhome, which had been turned into a sea of fire below, and the floating platform on the sea full of people. Angrily, he stamped his foot heavily, breaking off a piece of the cliff. Huge rocks mixed with crystal-clear ice crystals fell into the burning flames below.
The Night King's losses this time were quite heavy. He had lost forty to fifty thousand wights, which was a huge blow to him. Worse, more than two hundred precious White Walkers had been lost, which was an even more unbearable loss. Moreover, because the humans burned the bodies of the dead, he could not replenish his army of wights. The Night King let out a piercing roar, the sound echoing through the bay, as if to tear the world apart. Everyone could feel his anger, which was so palpable that it made it hard to breathe. Even Bran and Robb, far away on the warship, could hear it clearly.
Rickon and Ael naturally wouldn't indulge this monster. Without fear, they decisively ordered the cannons to respond to the Night King's provocation. At the order, all the warships fired their cannons at the cliff in a volley. The cannons roared, and shells rained down on the Night King's location.
After the explosion, the mountaintop was engulfed in a sea of fire, the flames soaring into the sky, and thick smoke billowing. The entire mountaintop was destroyed, and even the nearby peaks were affected.
Rickon looked at the scene before him, but he didn't feel relieved. He frowned and asked Bran, "Is the Night King dead?"
Bran shook his head, indicating that he wasn't sure. He was silent for a moment, then said, "Probably not. Look, the wights have already begun to retreat."
With the retreat of the White Walkers, this thrilling rescue operation finally came to an end.