320 Chapter 320: The Age of Great Strife

"White Walkers!"

"These are the real White Walkers!"

Inside the Great Hall of Winterfell, the white-haired Maester Aemon's voice trembled as he spoke.

"Legend has it that the thirteenth Lord Commander of the Night's Watch once married a woman whose skin was as pale as the moon, eyes like blue stars, and skin as cold as ice."

"After bringing her back to the Nightfort, the Lord Commander declared her his queen."

Maester Aemon had combed through the books left by the Night's Watch. Although the collapse of Castle Black had resulted in the loss of these precious texts, Aemon, like a living fossil, still retained much of the lost knowledge in his mind.

His words came from a book called "Watchers on the Wall," written by a maester named Harmune from the Citadel.

"Maester Aemon is correct."

"The same story is also told in the North."

Eddard Stark, the Duke with dark hair, sat on the side. Snowflakes were still falling outside the windows of the Great Hall, and the warmth from the roaring fire in the fireplace kept everyone from feeling too cold.

Eddard Stark had heard stories about the White Walkers from his wet nurse since he was a child. However, this story was more precise, even down to the names.

The thirteenth Lord Commander of the Night's Watch was a Stark named Bran. He married a White Walker woman and led the Night's Watch to independence.

However, the end of the story was that he was defeated by his own brother, the true King in the North, and then disappeared without a trace.

"The White Walkers are the leaders of these dead."

"The dead we've encountered before may just be the vanguard of the White Walker army."

Eddard Stark's words were heavy, and the atmosphere in the Great Hall of Winterfell was somewhat oppressive.

White Walkers had only appeared twice in the long history, and it was his turn now. Eddard Stark felt a great pressure. He had to protect the people of the North, as it was the responsibility of the Stark family.

The other commanders in the Great Hall looked at each other, feeling more troubled.

Their families were far from the North, and they didn't feel as anxious as the North's guardians. However, they were also at a loss when facing such an unknown enemy.

"Maester Aemon, you are learned and knowledgeable."

"We now know that fire can burn the dead, but is fire effective against the real White Walkers?"

Stannis Baratheon, the Duke of Dragonstone, sat on a side seat, gently stroking his chin beard, and then abruptly asked.

He was the calmest of all the people present, because his fief was on Dragonstone. Just like this time the king summoned the Iron Islands, but they didn't even respond.

Although the Iron Islands always had this kind of attitude, they felt that the White Walkers and the Wildlings had nothing to do with the Iron Islands. The enemy wouldn't swim across the sea, and they even wished for chaos in the green lands.

"Fire is effective against the wights transformed by the White Walkers, but there is no literature to support whether it is effective against the real White Walkers."

Stannis asked Maester Aemon, and Aemon did not hesitate to share his knowledge, his voice trembling as he spoke.

After all, this is a war of all mankind. His initial choice to give up revenge and uphold his oath had already transcended the shackles of family blood, reaching the height of the fate of all mankind.

"However, in ancient texts, two possible weaknesses of the White Walk

Walkers are mentioned."

"One of them is obsidian, also known as 'dragonglass'. According to the records, dragonglass can kill White Walkers."

"The other method is 'Valyrian steel'. Weapons made of Valyrian steel contain powerful magic. The Valyrian steel weapons of the lords here may be able to kill White Walkers."

Maester Aemon sat in his place, his milky white blind eyes open as he spoke.

"Obsidian? Dragonglass? What are these?"

Robert, who had been sitting in the middle and had not spoken for a while, suddenly asked. He had never heard of these things before.

"Obsidian."

"This substance is forged in the heart of the earth with the fire of the gods."

"Thousands of years ago, the Children of the Forest used obsidian for hunting because they did not know how to smelt metal."

"They used leaves to weave clothes instead of armor, and bark as greaves, so they looked as if they were one with the forest. Their arrows and blades were made of obsidian."

At this time, Maester Luwin of Winterfell happened to walk into the Great Hall. Hearing King Robert's question, he instinctively answered.

"There are still a few obsidian daggers and arrowheads left in Winterfell."

Then the plump Maester Luwin turned to his lord, Eddard Stark.

"My lord."

"A letter from King's Landing."

Suddenly, all eyes in the Great Hall were on Maester Luwin.

Because ravens only fly fixed routes to find fixed targets, all communication with the south now depends on the ravens of Winterfell.

This letter could be written to anyone present.

Viserys's quiet disappearance was only circulated among the upper echelons of Pentos.

The common people did not know that their king had irresponsibly gone on a dragon ride.

Winterfell gathered an army composed of the major nobles of the Seven Kingdoms, preparing to face their greatest challenge.

What they had encountered before were merely the vanguard of the army of the dead, and the truly terrifying White Walkers had just begun to appear.

Now, an age of great strife seemed to be dawning, and the world was in turmoil everywhere.

Even in the distant Yi Ti, according to merchants, the Emperor had mobilized three hundred thousand troops to conquer foreign lands.

And the Great Grass Sea, which had just experienced turmoil and was sandwiched between Yi Ti and the Free Cities, was the same.

Before Viserys left Pentos, two rumors were circulating in the area. One was about the uprising in the Smoking Sea, and the other was about the turmoil among the Dothraki.

The three Khals who had once joined forces to invade Pentos had violated the sacred rule of not killing each other in the holy city and started fighting. The result was a bloodbath.

In the end, none of the three Khals won. They were punished by the Horse God and were defeated by a mysterious Khal from nowhere. This Khal claimed the victory.

This Khal called himself Khal 'Mengo', the same name as the first Khal who unified the Dothraki, which means 'Death'.

And now he sat majestically in a land of shadows, his face obscured, only a pair of blood-red eyes visible. He remained silent throughout, and even his breathing was not audible.

Behind him stood three people wrapped in black robes with lacquered wooden masks on their faces, two men and a woman.

The blood-red lacquered masks had two pale tear stains, which were somewhat chilling.

Everyone knew that the Khal did not like light.

Everyone also knew that the Khal did not like to talk.