Chapter 416: The Unexpected Turn of Events

The front line soldiers had completely collapsed, while the main force of the allied army was ready for battle.

"All men!"

"Prepare for the enemy!"

Robert Baratheon, the King of the Seven Kingdoms, was clad in heavy black armor, a crowned stag roaring on his chest, and a helmet as black as ink on his head.

Thud, thud...

His horse's hooves kicked up dust and snowflakes as he rode, inspecting the formation of the allied army. The heavy sound of hooves hitting the ground echoed as he commanded in a voice as loud as a bell.

"Raise your shields!"

Whoosh—

With the king of the allied army nearby, the soldiers' morale was naturally more steadfast. Countless shields were raised high, forming a wall in front of them.

The three Kingsguard following the king were also mounted on their horses, dressed in white armor without any family crests, their white cloaks fluttering in the wind.

"The king seems to have regained some of his old self."

Barristan Selmy, the captain of the Kingsguard, said as he watched Robert's back, holding the reins with one hand.

The Robert of old was tall and mighty, with a hearty personality, known throughout the Seven Kingdoms for his unmatched bravery. He was the dream lover of countless young girls. However, after winning the crown, Robert indulged in wine and women, which destroyed his body and spirit.

But in Barristan's view, Robert seemed to have regained some of his former self under the stimulation of the White Walkers.

The other two Kingsguard following the captain, Ser Mandon Moore sat silently on his horse, while Ser Boros Blount gave a silent snort of laughter. He glanced at Barristan's back and squinted slightly, as if he was thinking about something.

The cloud of decisive battle loomed.

The dawn had not yet arrived, and the sky was just beginning to turn a fish-belly white.

However, the various thoughts of the people within the allied army were fascinating to watch. In contrast, the wights were united, without a trace of distraction, fighting to destroy the world and eradicate all life.

Whoosh...

Countless defeated front-line soldiers fled from the sides of the main force. The figure of Randyll Tarly, the commander of the front line, also passed by here. He lay on his horse, his life or death unknown, just letting his horse run headlong into the darkness.

Robert saw him and felt a slight sinking feeling in his heart for some reason.

But there was no time for Robert to hesitate any longer. As more and more front-line soldiers fled, the sharp cries of the wights following them were getting closer and closer. The heavy footsteps made the ground under the soldiers' feet tremble slightly.

Rumble...

Then Robert's gaze pierced through the snowstorm, and the endless army of the dead finally charged forward.

"They're here!"

Robert gripped his war hammer tightly, and countless allied soldiers swallowed hard, gripping their shields or spears tightly.

The next second.

Boom—

Like a heavy tank rushing in, a loud impact sound and the sound of bones shattering were heard.

"Ah—"

Several allied soldiers were sent flying high, screaming as they fell to the rear.

A huge wight mammoth had broken into the formation of the allied army.

Half of its skull was hollow, as if something had gnawed it away, revealing rotten flesh that gave off a foul smell. Only one eye remained, its blue light full of bloodlust and madness.

One of the mammoth's long tusks had been broken in half, but it still tore through the seemingly impenetrable formation of the allied army like a hot knife through butter.

On the back of the mammoth sat a White Walker with white hair and ice armor. His gaze was directly locked on Robert Baratheon in the center of the allied army, and he made a piercing noise from his mouth.

Then, holding an ice sword, he urged his mammoth to charge directly at Robert.

He recognized Robert as perhaps the king of these humans and wanted to capture the king first.

Countless wights also followed him, madly attacking the allied army's line.

At this moment.

Bang!

The sound of a crossbow string snapping echoed, and a spear mounted on a giant crossbow was suddenly fired, making a sharp sound as it cut through the air.

The obsidian-made spearhead was aimed directly at the White Walker sitting on the back of the wight mammoth.

"Die!"

The allied soldier operating the giant crossbow had a face full of vengeful pleasure and pure hatred, intertwined, even becoming distorted. His heart was completely filled with hatred.

He was a soldier from the North, his hometown had fallen to the wights, his mother had died in the North and might have become one of the wights, and his wife had died from a snake bite on the journey south to escape.

But he was just an ordinary person, a tiny figure in this unfortunate era. There were many, many people like him who had suffered unfair fates.

A spear fired from a giant crossbow by an ordinary allied soldier, with a dragon glass spearhead carrying a full load of hatred, easily pierced the chest of the White Walker.

These dragon glass were the first batch mined by the Targaryen family after they occupied Dragonstone and were transported to the front line to be made into weapons.

The White Walker, riding on the back of the wight mammoth, had an incredulous look on his face. He seemed to have never thought that he, who had lived for so many years, would be so easily killed by humans.

Bang—

Then he exploded into a sky full of ice shards, falling to the ground, completely disappearing from this world.

All that was left was his mount, the mammoth, which raised its stinking trunk and heavy front foot, letting out a terrifying roar.

Whoo—

At this moment, the sound of a horn from the rear became louder, finally attracting the attention of the soldiers fighting on the front line.

"What's going on?!"

"What's wrong with the rear?!"

Robert, covered in blood, holding his war hammer, had a look of both shock and anger on his face.

Because this was the horn of retreat from the rear.