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#326 - Chapter 60: Burning Flag (Part 3)

Faced with the immediate predicament, Stannis displayed unwavering will and courage. Without hesitation, he drew the longsword from his waist, ready to personally engage the enemy. But at that moment, a pair of hands as white as snow firmly grasped his arm, and a vibrant red figure appeared beside him—Melisandre. With a solemn and devout expression, she said, "Your Majesty, please wait a moment." After speaking, Melisandre slowly closed her eyes and began to murmur incantations. In an instant, raging flames soared into the sky, coiling around Stannis's sword like a fire dragon. Melisandre exclaimed excitedly, "Go forth, my great King! You are the Prince That Was Promised—Azor Ahai! You shall wield the radiant Lightbringer and eradicate all evil and darkness from this world!"

Stannis gripped the burning sword tightly, raised his arm high, pointed forward, and roared with all his might, "Men, follow me! Charge!" Spurred by his passionate cry, the cavalry behind him surged forward like a tidal wave, their momentum overwhelming. These brave and fearless warriors, filled with a desire for victory, seemed to already glimpse the dawn of triumph.

However, those enormous and ferocious beasts were not invincible. As long as humans dared to fight and were willing to sacrifice, even if it required a price, these beasts would ultimately meet their fate as food.

One sharp spear after another relentlessly pierced the thick, tough hides of the mammoths, which wailed in agony as their massive bodies crashed to the ground.

Countless brave soldiers rushed forward fearlessly. Direwolves were decapitated, and bears were riddled with spears. Soldiers raised their gleaming swords and hacked away, turning these behemoths into piles of minced meat.

Stannis calmly directed his army, advancing in an orderly fashion. Archers drew their bows and loosed a rain of arrows, providing strong fire support for their allies. Infantrymen, gripping shields and spears, stood shoulder to shoulder, forming an impregnable defensive line. The wildlings, scattering in all directions, were intercepted and driven back towards the Wall.

Jon was deeply impressed by the combat prowess of Stannis's army. He personally led a small squad composed of elite rangers, charging in from the flank like a whirlwind, directly towards the rear of the wildling army. Wielding sharp swords, they moved with agility, like a raging storm sweeping through, instantly disrupting the wildlings' once-orderly formation and quickly surrounding Mance Rayder's tent.

At this moment, Stannis, having just successfully eliminated the ferocious beasts, also led his troops to the scene, forming a siege with Jon's forces. Although some wildlings still attempted to resist stubbornly, all their struggles proved futile under the tacit and coordinated attacks of Jon and Stannis. In the end, these stubbornly resisting wildlings were mercilessly pinned to the frozen earth.

Jon shouted loudly, "Mance Rayder! You have nowhere to escape! Surrender now!"

Upon hearing this, Mance Rayder emerged from his tent, his face pale and his expression dejected. He stared at Jon with wide eyes, saying with a mix of emotions, "Boy, I never expected you to grow so quickly. What surprises me even more is that those pampered noble lords from the south are willing to join this brutal battle. The free folk have shed too much blood already; there must be no more senseless slaughter." With that, he threw the weapon he held tightly in his hand to the ground, indicating his surrender.

Stannis approached with steady steps, holding the flaming sword. He exuded an aura of majesty and mystery, as if a god had descended to earth.

Melisandre followed closely behind, walked to Stannis's side, and gently took the burning sword. With a wave of her hand, the flames instantly extinguished, as if suppressed by an invisible force.

Stannis walked fearlessly towards Mance Rayder, his eyes fixed on his target, seemingly ignoring the menacing wildlings around him. He stopped in front of Mance Rayder, stood straight, and said loudly, "You are the one who calls himself the King-Beyond-the-Wall, do you know who stands before you?"

Mance Rayder looked helpless, "Should I?"

At this moment, Davos turned to face the surrendered wildlings and shouted in a booming voice, "Standing before you is Stannis I of House Baratheon! He is not only the rightful King of the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros but also the sole legitimate ruler of this land!"

Upon hearing these words, Mance Rayder's lips curled into a sneering smile, "However, this is not the territory of the Seven Kingdoms, and besides, aren't you cold wearing such thin clothes?"

Faced with Mance Rayder's sarcasm, Stannis remained unperturbed and continued, "As is customary, when you surrender to the King, you must kneel."

Mance Rayder shook his head decisively and replied firmly, "We, as proud free folk, are born not knowing how to kneel."

Stannis: "You have lost. Before nightfall, I can capture at least a few thousand more prisoners. We have come from afar, with no place to house them and no food to give them. If they refuse to kneel, they are no longer prisoners. What do you think I should do with them?"

Mance Rayder: "It's the same. We never kneel."

A cold smile crept onto Stannis's lips. He slowly turned away, gazing coldly into the distance. Davos, standing beside him, sighed helplessly and gave the order, "Bring them over. Execute them here."

Soon, groups of terrified wildlings were dragged roughly by the soldiers to Mance Rayder's front. Without hesitation, the soldiers drew their sharp weapons and mercilessly slashed at the necks of the wildlings. In an instant, blood splattered everywhere, and heads rolled to the ground in a gruesome scene.

Mance Rayder's eyelids twitched violently, but he gritted his teeth and stubbornly remained silent, refusing to yield to the enemy. Seeing this, Davos waved his hand behind him, signaling for more wildlings to be brought forward.

"Kill!" As this cold command rang out, a new round of slaughter began. Fifty wildlings were once again brutally murdered, their bodies piled up like mountains, and blood stained the entire land red. However, this bloody massacre did not stop. Then came the third team, the fourth team… batch after batch of wildlings were sent to the execution ground like lambs to the slaughter, none spared.