417 Chapter 417: The White Walker Well-Versed in Warfare

The rear of the formation was commanded by Tywin Lannister, the Warden of the West and father-in-law to King Robert.

The vanguard and the center were the main forces against the White Walkers, but the rear also required a seasoned commander. Thus, the allied forces unanimously elected Duke Tywin to hold the rear.

However, no one expected that under Duke Tywin's command, a lapse would occur at such a critical moment.

The soldiers in the center, personally led by the king, were fighting the White Walkers, when suddenly, the horn signaling retreat sounded from the rear.

The darkness gradually faded, and a faint light appeared on the horizon.

The allied forces had been fighting all night and had finally made it to dawn. They thought they could take a breather, but the arrival of dawn plunged them into deeper darkness.

The allied forces had already learned from their long battle that the wights' attacks would intensify at night and wane during the day.

The two assassins who had killed Roose Bolton also disappeared amidst the chaos of the battlefield.

The guards of the Dreadfort reacted too late. They only found Roose Bolton's body; the assassins had long since vanished.

The retreat horn from the rear sounded and quickly faded.

"Kill!"

The fierce battle at the front line continued, filled with the clanging of weapons, screams, and cries of battle.

Robert, covered in blood, his armor adorned with the crowned stag now somewhat tattered, gasped for breath. He grabbed a passing nobleman by the collar.

"You!"

The man's chest bore the 'Winter Sun' crest, indicating he was a member of the Stark family from Karhold.

"What the hell happened at the rear?"

"Go check it out!"

Robert grabbed Torrhen Stark, the second son of Rickard Stark, the Earl of Karhold, and roared.

His face and beard were covered in blood, making him look terrifying. Torrhen was startled, but he quickly recognized the king and hurriedly responded with fear and respect.

"Understood, Your Grace!"

Torrhen Stark, looking somewhat disheveled, quickly mounted his horse and galloped towards the rear to see what had gone wrong with Lord Tywin Lannister.

Watching Torrhen Stark's retreating figure, Robert took a moment to catch his breath.

"Seven Hells."

He licked his dry lips, turned his head, and looked at the relentless wave of wights.

Robert's face twitched slightly, and he cursed vehemently.

"Damn it!"

Then he gripped his hammer and charged again.

Although dawn had arrived, the snow showed no signs of stopping.

The sky was still filled with heavy snowfall, reducing visibility. He had no idea what was happening behind him.

Torrhen Stark, the young second son of Karhold, had also been injured in the recent battle. He had been slapped in the chest by a wight that had once been a black bear.

Fortunately, he was wearing sturdy armor, especially thickened at the chest, which saved his life. However, he had a mouthful of blood in his chest that he hadn't spat out yet, making him feel uncomfortable.

Torrhen Stark, in his tattered armor, lay on his horse, heading towards the rear.

At that moment, he seemed to hear something unusual. He lifted his head slightly to look.

But all he saw was an ice arrow piercing through the snow, rapidly enlarging in his pupils.

"Hel-"

Torrhen Stark's eyes widened in terror, but before he could shout for help.

Thud—

The ice arrow had already brutally pierced his throat.

The sharp arrowhead protruded from the back of his neck, blood slowly trickling down. His body swayed slightly on the horse, then fell heavily into the snow, lifeless.

Torrhen's horse, as if witnessing a terrifying scene, let out a mournful neigh. It nudged its motionless master with its head, and when it received no response, it finally ran away in fear.

The one who had shot Torrhen didn't bother to chase the horse.

Then, from the white snow, the sound of shuffling footsteps gradually emerged.

Countless shaky figures walked out of the snow, followed by an endless army of wights.

Leading this group of wights was a female White Walker with dark hair and blue eyes. Her skin was pale and beautiful. A metal badge was pinned to her chest. She rode a skeletal horse and held an icy bow and arrow in her hand.

It seemed that she was the one who had just shot Torrhen Stark.

Dawn, like a sharp sword, cut through the night.

Daylight had arrived.

The biting cold wind blew the White Walker's hair. The female White Walker on the skeletal horse slightly turned her head, then withdrew her gaze.

The silent army continued to march forward. Among them were many figures wearing iron clothes, and even one with disheveled hair, only one arm left, and what seemed to be a driftwood crown on his head.

The last news from the Iron Islands was that they had been attacked by White Walkers a few months ago. After that, the Iron Islands completely lost contact with the mainland of Westeros.

Ravens flew over, then disappeared without a trace.

However, at that time, the allied forces of the Seven Kingdoms were fully preparing for the Battle of the Bays, planning to snipe the White Walkers at the Neck, even plotting to kill the Night King with wildfire. Naturally, they had no time to worry about the Iron Islands.

The Iron Islands had been out of contact since then, shrouded in mystery, silent for several months.

Are there any survivors on the Iron Islands?

What happened to Balon Greyjoy, the King of the Iron Islands?

No one knows now.

However, the White Walkers who initially attacked the Iron Islands now led an even larger army of the dead and suddenly appeared on the sea. They attacked Seagard directly from Ironman's Bay. An endless number of wights emerged from the sea, heading towards Seagard.

The Earl of Seagard, Jason Mallister, had already gone to assist the allied forces. The few remaining soldiers naturally couldn't resist the White Walkers.

So, Seagard fell easily, and not a single person managed to escape alive to deliver the news.

Moreover, due to the war with the White Walkers, the people near the battlefield in the Riverlands had been evacuated.

The front line had not received any news of Seagard's fall, let alone prepared for it.