Will snapped open his eyes.
The crackling bonfire had reduced to scattered embers, glowing faintly against the freezing night.
He turned his neck slightly, scanning the sleeping soldiers around him.
Wrapped tightly in wool blankets, the heavy cavalrymen lay huddling together, their rhythmic snoring rising and falling.
He turned his gaze to Guan Zimo.
The female officer was fast asleep, eyes closed tightly as she curled up in her snow trench.
Will reached out, scooped up a handful of snow, and rubbed it roughly over his face.
The piercing cold vanished his drowsiness instantly.
Widening his eyes, Will carefully pushed off his blanket.
The breath he exhaled vaporized instantly in the freezing air.
He crept out of his snow trench, staring toward Logan and the prisoners.
The warhorses were tied together nearby.
In the dark, Will felt as though the horses were watching him in silence.
Holding his breath, he skirted past the sleeping knights and slipped toward the mounts.
“Hey!” A sudden voice made Will shudder.
Looking down, he saw Blackhand, bound hand and foot, glaring up at him with wide, sharp eyes.
“Untie my ropes.” “No.” “You can’t do this.” “Sure I can.
You’re a Crow, but I’ve got no desire to die here for your brothers.
I’ve got a wife and home to get back to,” Blackhand whispered, glancing at his soundly sleeping son, Gryon.
“These people have more heart than you Crows—at least they gave me a blanket.
Free me, and we run first.
After that, do whatever you want.” “Why should I trust you?” “Don’t trust me?
Fine, I’ll scream right now.
You don’t have a choice.” “I could slit your throat right now.” Will touched the dagger at his belt.
In a head-on fight he might be useless, but slitting the throat of a bound Wildling was effortless.
“Try it.
Let’s see if you’re faster with a blade or me with my mouth.” Blackhand glanced toward the sleeping guards in their snow trenches.
If his tribe had ten warriors like those, he could unite every Wildling clan in the Beyond.
Will took a sharp breath, his heart torn as if sliced by a knife.
As he hesitated, a Jing Sai guard nearby suddenly rolled over in his sleep, scaring both of them stiff.
“Hurry up.
It’s almost dawn,” Blackhand hissed.
Dammit!
Will cursed inwardly and stepped closer to Blackhand.
“Once I cut you loose, you go your own way.” “I know.” Will bent down, preparing to cut the rope.
“I strongly advise against that.” A cool, crisp voice shattered the silence.
Will and Blackhand froze into ice pillars.
Guan Zimo stood silently ten paces away.
Her bow was drawn to full length, a steel-tipped arrow aimed straight at Will’s stooped back.
“My lord…” Will’s hands trembled violently.
The sudden revelation left him paralyzed with panic.
Blackhand, being pragmatic, simply closed his eyes and pretended to be fast asleep.
He knew nothing, saw nothing—he was just sleeping.
Snap!
Guan Zimo released the string.
The bowstring twanged sharply as the arrow flew.
Will shut his eyes instinctively.
He didn’t blame her—from the day he was captured until now, he had been treated far better than any prisoner deserved.
Thwip!
The arrow streaked past, but it didn’t pierce Will’s head.
Thwack!
The sound of metal and wood biting into flesh echoed, but no human scream followed.
Will opened his eyes and whirled around.
Standing in the treeline a short distance away was a pale-skinned corpse.
One of its burning blue eyes had been pierced through by the arrow; the remaining blue eye glared coldly right at him.
“Enemy attack!” Guan Zimo’s shout roared through the forest.
The sleeping Jing Sai guards bolted awake, instantly reaching for their weapons.
The rangers woke up as well, but the one sleeping on the outer edge opened his eyes only to behold a withered, rotting, shambling corpse leaning over him.
“AAARGH—” The ranger’s scream was choked out by a torrent of blood as a frost-rimed sword plunged straight through his throat.
The death of the first ranger sent panic tearing through the rest.
But with their hands tied, even standing up proved a struggle.
As the stooped corpse—a few wisps of white hair clinging to its decaying skull—raised its frost sword once more, a heavy, armored figure slammed into it like a battering ram.
The wight’s frail frame was no match for a Jing Sai guard’s impact.
Beyond the Great Bastion, these ironclad juggernauts regularly faced the horrifying thralls of the Chaos Gods—Khorne, Tzeentch, Slaanesh, and even the foul servants of Nurgle.
At a single command, they would charge into hell without hesitation.
Compared to those monstrous abominations, the corpse before them was almost…
adorable.
Having knocked the wight flat onto the snow, the guard unholstered a pair of steel garlic-head maces from his waist and brought them smashing down onto the creature’s head.
Unlike in tabletop games where they served strictly as cavalry, real Jing Sai guards carried a full arsenal of close-quarters weapons alongside their heavy lances.
With a furious swing, the guard crushed the wight’s skull into splinters.
Yet the destroyed head didn’t seem to stop the corpse entirely—its body kept thrashing.
Seeing this, the guard delivered several more violent blows to its legs and shoulders, then seized its arms and legs and ripped them off with raw, brutal strength.
Unknown whether the wight was exceptionally brittle or the Cathayan warrior was absurdly strong, he tore the creature’s limbs apart almost effortlessly.
“Pui!
What useless trash,” the guard spat, raising his head to stare into the depths of the forest.
“Holy shit…” A classic Cathayan curse slipped out.
In the direction he was looking, an endless, writhing mass of wights was pouring out of the dark woods, swarming toward their tiny campsite like a tide of death.
“Zhao Che, prepare to fall back!” Another Jing Sai guard galloped over on horseback, tossing the reins of a spare warhorse to his comrade.
“My lords!
My lords, don’t leave us behind!” Seeing the soldier who had just saved him mounting up, Logan panicked, thinking they were about to be abandoned.
He and the remaining four live rangers shrieked in terror.
However, the guard named Zhao Che didn’t leave immediately.
He glanced at his comrade, then turned to Logan and the prisoners.
“Go find Commander Guan!
I’ll hold them off for a moment!” Zhao Che unslung his long heavy lance from the side of his saddle.
Just as he did, another ranger was dragged down by the closing wights, his shrieks shattering the night once more.
Holding his lance in his right hand, Zhao Che scooped the leaf-shaped iron head of the weapon into the central campfire and flicked it with explosive power.
Buried embers caught air and flared into sudden life, showering red-hot coals across the dark night sky.
Fwhoosh!
The burning coals pelted a swarm of wights, igniting them like dry straw.
The struck wight instantly burst into a walking torch, and the undead around it scrambled back in terror, shunning the blazing flames as if recoiling from ultimate doom.