CHAPTER 277 Echoes of Inevitability

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CHAPTER 277 Echoes of Inevitability

297 AC

POV THIRD PERSON

(LAST WEEK'S CHAPTER)

The smoke dissipated, revealing Aermir standing amidst the aftermath of the explosion. He looked drained, having exerted everything in that powerful strike. From the lingering smoke, a hand emerged, swiftly gripping his neck and lifting him off the ground. It was the Night King. His left arm was a mangled mess, but even as Aermir dangled in his grasp, the damaged limb began regenerating, growing back like an expanding ice crystal with every passing second.

"Did you think some fire spell and a Valyrian steel was enough to end me!"

He gripped Aermir's neck tighter and continued, "I have lived more than 10 thousand years, even in the Age of Heroes, where people as powerful as you were a dime a dozen. They couldn't kill me, and all they could do was seal me on this side of the Wall by sacrificing all their lives."

He brought Aermir closer to his face and, with an arrogant smirk, said,

"I am the reason the Age of Heroes ended. Did you think none of them tried to stab me with Valyrian steel or dragon glass? I am the king of the everlasting night!"

He slammed Aermir to the ground and stepped on him. "I will not crumble like some low-level undead by a magical sword just because you stabbed me."

At that moment, his arm finished regenerating, and he picked up Aermir with that arm. He created an icy dagger and stabbed Aermir. A screeching sound was heard as his defensive buffs and the ice dagger clashed. Aermir's stony armor broke up, but it still managed to deflect one hit. Aermir smiled and started punching him. "I am not giving up!"

Aermir, running on fumes, threw everything he had at the Night King. His blows landed with the force of a bear, each strike drawing blue blood from the ancient foe. Yet, with every hit, Aermir's breathing grew more labored, and the Night King, though visibly bleeding, didn't even budge. Aermir released another powerful punch, but the Night King countered, grabbing Aermir's fist and delivering a brutal headbutt. The icy horns atop the Night King's head slashed Aermir's eye, robbing him of sight on one side.

"I keep telling you," the Night King taunted, "but you do not understand. This is not my first time fighting with powerful warriors or magicians. I cannot be beaten; I am inevitable."

With a grip on Aermir's neck, the Night King restrained him. He turned toward his men and commanded, "Kill them. Show him what it means to stand in my way."

Aermir's familiars had fought with great ferocity and managed to kill more than half of the white walkers, but the number difference was too much, and their defensive buffs were starting to give.

Poe and Erebus were the first ones to die; they had become exhausted, and when they dived to attack one more time, they got caught by the icy touch of the white walkers. Frost crept along their feathers, freezing their once lively movements.

Erebus, with his midnight-black plumage, struggled in the icy grip, his caws silenced by the encroaching frost. Poe, her purplish feathers now glazed with a sheen of frost, fluttered desperately, but the cold tendrils tightened their grip, extinguishing the spark of life within them.

Artio and Berus had fought like crazy; they were bleeding from many wounds but succumbed to the overwhelming numbers. Sith charged toward the Night King, trying to help her master, but Night King released an ice spear and impaled her as she pounced at him.

Aermir, held captive by the Night King, watched helplessly as his companions perished one by one. Rage boiled within him, but no matter how wildly he struggled, Night King's iron grip didn't let him go. The Night King's words echoed in his ears, a chilling reminder of his seeming invincibility.

The once formidable druid, now blinded and restrained, seethed with impotent fury as the Night King's forces extinguished every remnant of his magical allies. The air resonated with the cries of the fallen, and Aermir, consumed by grief and rage, could only watch as his world crumbled around him. Aermir shouted as he punched and kicked, but Night King was encased in thick icy armor now, and the only thing his hit did was shatter the stony armor on his legs and arm.

" I'll make you pay for every life you've taken!"

The Night King, seemingly unaffected by Aermir's threats, merely stared coldly at the chaos unfolding around them. "Your defiance is meaningless, druid. Your magic is feeble before the might of winter."

"You destroy everything in your path, reveling in death! You're not a king; you're a plague upon this world!"

"You will join the countless others who have tried and failed. Your struggles amuse me. I am the harbinger of an eternal night. Your feeble attempts to resist are futile."

He created another icy dagger, but this time it was made from black ice, and he stabbed Aermir in the gut; the dagger and Aermir's defensive buffs created another screeching sound, but this time it couldn't resist like before, and he was stabbed. 

It felt like all the warmth in his body was leaving him. Night King twisted the dagger, bringing unbearable pain to Aermir, but he didn't scream; as the blood filled his mouth, he gritted his teeth and continued to punch him even if it caused more damage to himself than the Night King. He still continued until he couldn't raise his arm anymore.

"Just close your eyes, druid; everlasting night will come for all the living. Embrace the dark and sleep eternally."

Aermir's mind echoed with the Night King's taunts, the weight of despair settling upon him like a suffocating shroud. His body ached, his magic depleted, and the once unyielding druid teetered on the precipice of surrender. The Night King's relentless advance and taunting words echoed through the recesses of his mind. 

The battlefield, once alive with the vibrant energy of his familiars, now lay strewn with the remnants of their dead, cold bodies. Exhausted, both physically and emotionally, Aermir found himself contemplating the possibility of giving in to the Night King's proclaimed inevitability.

His eyes closed, the weight of despair pressing down on him, and coldness was encasing him. Aermir prepared to accept the numbing embrace of defeat. The Night King's words, "I am inevitable, and the eternal night is coming." resonated in his mind.