Chapter 698: Icy Altar

The White Walker ahead suddenly halted its mount, and Benjen, stirred from his trance, hastily pulled back the reins of his skeletal horse.

Though the being had paid him no mind, boosting his courage somewhat, they maintained a cautious distance. No matter how brave Benjen felt, he dared not approach it closely.

What if this White Walker, in a sudden fit of displeasure, decided to crush him?

Benjen discreetly felt the dragonglass dagger hidden in his robes. This weapon, capable of killing White Walkers, was his last line of defense. Only by touching it could Benjen clear his mind and regain a sense of reality.

But now, he looked ahead and his eyes narrowed in alarm. His heart may have stopped beating long ago, but an intense dread surged from the depths of his soul.

Before him stood a massive icy altar, resembling the claw of a dragon, with five towering and intricately carved icy pillars emitting a blue glow.

Just one glance made Benjen's mind waver for a moment before he quickly shook his head to dispel the sensation.

"What is this?"

He was unsure where he now stood. Why was such a magnificent icy altar located in a land where no man had ever set foot?

Who built it? The White Walkers? And for what purpose?

However, these questions weren't the root cause of Benjen's profound fear.

The true reason was on the opposite side of the altar, directly across from Benjen and the White Walker.

He had been so mesmerized by the dazzling aurora above that he hadn't noticed the cessation of the blizzard. The howling wind was gone, and there was no snow beneath his feet. The aurora shimmered beautifully, holding anyone who gazed upon it captive. In the distance—

Countless wights, as clear as day, stood in organized ranks, seemingly following a command. Leading them were White Walkers mounted on various creatures: mammoths, ice spiders, direwolves, and skeletal horses, much like the one Benjen rode.

The giant ice spiders, about four to five meters long, walked on slender legs, their blue eyes shimmering. Their huge, grotesque mandibles were stained with fresh blood.

Half of a mammoth's face was rotten, revealing bone and decaying flesh.

This seemingly endless army of the dead, along with hundreds of White Walkers, stood meticulously in front of the altar, as if awaiting something. Yet, they all simultaneously looked up at the approaching duo, without making a sound.

Such silence, where one could seemingly hear a pin drop, was unsettling. It's no wonder Benjen had been so lost in the northern lights' beauty that he hadn't noticed them.

Benjen might have been dead, but the fear stemming from his soul made him shiver.

After all, he was still human at heart. He felt as if he was alone in the seventh circle of hell, under the watchful gaze of countless demons.

"If they realize something's amiss with me..."

"They might tear me apart without a second thought."

Such thoughts made Benjen's fingers tremble as he tightly gripped the reins. For a split second, he contemplated turning and fleeing.

However, at that moment, the White Walker leading him finally made a move.

With a swish of chains, it dismounted and set foot on the icy, transparent ground. Then, like all the undead and other White Walkers, it turned to face Benjen.

It had been weeks, maybe a month or two, since that White Walker last looked at him.

"Damn it!"

Fear enveloped Benjen, and he felt an overwhelming urge to flee. Even though he was undead, he didn't want to be torn apart by these monsters.

Thankfully, after a brief glance, the White Walker turned its attention back to the altar. It unraveled a bundle from its waist, revealing a round object, seemingly a stone. Benjen had been following the creature for so long and only now noticed it carrying something.

"What is that?"

Before he could ponder further, the White Walker placed the black stone on the icy altar. A second later, a towering blue flame ignited, engulfing the stone.

With a rustling sound, the silver-haired White Walker knelt in front of the blazing blue fire, and all the undead, including the other White Walkers, followed suit. It was as if they were worshipping the blue flame.

"What... What is this?"

Benjen was entranced by the blue flame, his mind a blank slate. His fingers trembled, and he felt a compulsion to join the ritual. Without thinking, he dismounted and, mirroring the others, knelt before the captivating blue fire.

Could he have stopped the White Walker earlier? The thought crossed his mind, but now, under the gaze of countless undead and the mesmerizing blue flames, it was too late.