Chapter 675: Integrating the North and the Free Folk

"Who said that?"

As soon as the words fell, a cold voice took over.

The wildlings were stunned when they heard it. It was a strange voice they had never heard before.

"Where is the damn skinchanger?"

The red-nosed wildling widened his eyes and looked for the skinchanger in the team.

As a scout, how could he let the enemy get close to him.

Turning his head, the male skinchanger with dry hair and thin body had a dull face and his eyes remained white.

"Cry!"

The gray eagle circled in the sky, crying in fear.

Two figures, one tall and one short, slowly walked out of the blind spot on one side of the mountain top.

Rhaegar held the black fire in his hand and walked forward calmly: "Teams with skinchangers are also rare among the free people."

He glanced and saw Robb with chapped lips.

"Your Majesty."

Robb was so excited that he wanted to step forward but was pulled away.

Rhaegar nodded at him and asked, "Where are the giants?"

"The giants are also wildlings, and they are detained in the freemen's camp."

Robber answered quickly, shaking his shoulders vigorously.

The king is here, and he dares to tie him up.

"How did you escape from the skinchanger?"

The red-nosed wild man drew out his axe and blocked the skinchanger who had lost his ability to move.

"Escape?" Rhaegar blinked and said casually, "It seems not."

The son of the forest rushed out quickly, his green eyes were round and round, locking the gray eagle in the sky.

"Cry!"

The gray eagle cried sadly and fell to the ground.

The son of the forest was quick and let the gray eagle land on his slender arm.

Seeing this, the wildlings were immediately shocked.

"Son of the forest!"

The red-nosed wild man took a step back and asked in surprise, "Who are you?"

The son of the forest retired thousands of years ago, and even the natives of the Neck Marsh rarely saw him.

How could he be with a young boy?

Rhaegar walked closer, and Blackfire gently inserted into the ground, and calmly asked: "Didn't you hear what your captive called me just now?"

The surface of the Valyrian steel sword was black, reflecting the ripples on the white snow.

Red Nose took a breath and said nervously: "Are you the king of the Wall?"

"Let me go, idiot!"

Robb kicked his legs and kicked away the two wildlings who bound him, and his voice was sonorous and powerful: "Remember, the one in front of you is Rhaegar I of the Targaryen family, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Ruler of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, the only king on both sides of the Strait of Mir, and the Lord of Slaver's Bay and Old Valyria!"

A series of prefixes and titles came out of his mouth, and there were still many left unsaid.

The wildlings were all stunned and looked at each other.

Rhaegar poked Blackfire and smiled: "Who are you?"

"Uh..."

The red-nosed wild man opened his mouth to speak, secretly glanced at the tall wild man leading the team, and stuttered: "He is Balon."

The tall wild man puffed out his chest and glanced at the second-in-command without leaving a trace.

The red-nosed wild man immediately understood and added: "Balon, the King Beyond the Wall."

"The King of the Wildlings."

Robb sneered and untied his companion's rope.

"I am the King Beyond the Wall, the leader elected by the free people."

Balon's face was calm, staring at the silver-haired young man in a fluttering black robe.

He was very tall, seven feet tall, with tight muscles all over his body, full of surging power.

In other words, he was almost two meters tall.

Rhaegar tilted his head, looked up and down, and said with a smile: "King beyond the Wall, where is your crown?"

Balon touched his head with a bearskin hat, stiffened his neck and said: "Freemen never need crowns, they are shackles that oppress their compatriots."

"Without a crown, how can we distinguish between kings and commoners?"

Rhaegar put away his smile, pulled out the black fire that was three feet into the ground, and said word by word: "Wearing a crown is not to be superior to others, but to stand higher than everyone when the sky falls."

Just like when the White Walkers appear, as a king, he leads by example.

If he does not withdraw from the North, none of his vassals dare to retreat half a step.

"Stop talking about big principles, what exactly do you want to do?"

Balon clenched the huge axe, preferring to solve the problem with force.

"Take me to find the remaining freemen, follow me to the Wall."

Rhaegar went straight to the point, approaching the other side step by step.

"Who believes your nonsense."

Balon shouted, swung the axe and chopped.

Dang!

A flash of black light passed by, and the wide axe spun and flew.

Balon stood there in a daze, looking at the broken axe handle in his hand in disbelief.

The black sword was placed on his neck, and the cold touch pierced his soul.

Rhaegar didn't even blink, and whispered: "Hold on and lead the way, the great King Beyond the Wall."

Balon:...

I am convinced, completely convinced.

Robb was proud and grabbed the rope to tie up the wildlings.

"No need, we are all family."

Rhaegar waved his hand, not wanting to make a fuss.

The wildlings and they have a common enemy, so there is no need to fight to the death.

Robb nodded in agreement, grabbed the red-nosed wildling's collar, raised his fist and aimed at his eye sockets and hit him hard.

"Bah!"

Robb threw the other party away and gritted his teeth and said: "No matter how many punches you hit me, I will return them to you this time."

The red-nosed wildling didn't dare to say a word.

Rhaegar looked around and picked up the dragon crystal products scattered on the ground.

The Child of the Forest was lying on the ground, holding the damaged Horn of Winter in his hands.

"What is this?"

Rhaegar had never seen it before, but he could vaguely sense the magical fluctuations.

Not the blood and fire flowing in the blood, nor the cold and darkness emanating from the White Walkers.

It is three-thirds similar to the water wizard of Rhoynar, but more similar to the rich natural atmosphere of the children of the forest.

It's like stepping in the spring woods, the fragrance of earth and morning mist penetrate directly into the nose.

"A damaged relic."

The son of the forest's voice was trembling, and his green eyes were full of regret.

As early as thousands of years ago, after the children of the forest signed an armistice agreement with the ancestors, many inheritances were severed.

The Horn of Winter was once a treasure shared by the children of the forest and the giants, but was lost for no reason during the migration of the tribe.

Unexpectedly, it would be found at the Fist of the Ancients.

"What's the use?"

Rhaegar squatted down and compared it with the dragon horn he held.

The Dragon's Horn is entirely made of Valyrian steel and is over two meters long. It is simply a giant among horns.

And only dragonborn with strong blood can blow it, while others will be burned by fire if they blow it.

"It can summon the sleeping giants underground and is nature's most powerful weapon."

The child of the forest gently stroked the horn, rubbing his brown-green cheeks.

Unfortunately, it was damaged.

Not to mention exerting infinite power, even blowing the sound is a luxury.

"More powerful than the Dragon's Horn?"

Rhaegar did not believe in evil and took the Horn of Winter from the opponent.

He bent down and grabbed a handful of snow, wiped the mouthpiece in disgust, and then put it against his lips.

Woo——

The pale horn trembled slightly, and the melodious sound of the horn gurgled out, rolling up the falling snow in the sky and turning it into an arc.

…

King's Landing, Red Keep.

Parliament Hall.

Damon sat in the main seat, crossed his legs carelessly, and announced the news on the letter in his hand.

Lin Man, Owell and other ministers looked ugly and dared not speak out in anger at his disrespectful behavior.

"The King steps out of the Wall, and the Northmen seek more help."

Damon frowned, his displeasure evident in his expression.

Not only was he reckless towards his nephew, but he also showed contempt for the people in the north.

If the people of the valley were considered by him to be country bumpkins, bitches in bronze armor.

Those people from the north are despicable bastards at heart, only worthy of hiding in the barren land behind the Neck.

There is no difference between the nobles of Crab Claw Peninsula, they can all be called "savages".

There is no need to distinguish the north from the south of the ice wall.

"The king is far away, and there are two princes Aegon and Aemond on the Wall."

Lin Man was trembling, his slow brain analyzing the situation.

"Both uncles are here, but their dragons can't cross the Great Wall."

Verron sat at the lower left of the main seat and took great care of the old man.

"Oh, that's really bad news."

Lin Man frowned deeply and fell into deep thought.

"Grand Maester, why did the dragon refuse to cross the Great Wall?"

Damon's eyes flickered and he stared at Orvel, who was watching his nose and heart.

Ovel hesitated for a few seconds and then said hesitantly: "According to historical records, your grandmother Queen Alexa's mount Silver Wing also refused to fly over the Great Wall many times. This seems to be related to the habits of dragons."

In contrast, Wormisor flew over the Wall.

Perhaps the adult dragon is stronger and more resistant to the cold winter.

"I don't want to hear useless nonsense."

Damon dismissed it, turned around and decided: "My nephew walked out of the Great Wall to unite those savages. Now the Great Wall needs reinforcements from the royal family."

"Do you want me to go?"

Belron took the initiative to ask for a fight, and touched the dragon-taming whip on his waist with his little hand.

"No!" Damon refused directly and straightened his back: "I will go in person to meet the so-called White Walkers."

Knowing the prophecy of the Song of Ice and Fire, he is full of fear and vigilance towards the White Walkers.

My nephew is very strong, but his helper is terrible.

"Your Highness, you are the regent now."

Intelligence Chief Tormund spoke softly and reminded kindly: "As far as I know, Old Town Hightower and the merchants of Quels have officially started a war, and the peace of the kingdom needs a reliable person."

"As for Helena, ask her to go to her mother's house and ride on a dragon to fly around."

Dimon thinks clearly and never procrastinates on small matters.

Tormund hesitated and whispered: "Princess Helena also received news from the raven and rushed to the Great Wall this morning."

He was an activist who had his own way of doing things and would not listen to anyone except the king.

"Haha, they want to spare the royal family's dragon master time?"

Daemon laughed dumbly, but his mind was on the White Walkers outside the Great Wall.

He has to go, no one can stop him.

Looking at the half-grown child beside him, Daemon muttered: "I will go to the North, and you have to manage King's Landing well."

"Me?" Belron pointed to himself.

"Yes, can it be done?"

Damon looked at it repeatedly and thought this method was feasible.

It was November, and King's Landing was already covered in snow.

Not to mention the valley, the Mingyue Mountains are all blocked by snow, blocking all paths outside the Blood Gate.

Otherwise, Lady Janey from the Eagle's Nest City can be invited to take over the throne.

Belron was a little unsure and didn't answer for a while.

boom--

In the back garden of the Red Castle, a dull sound suddenly came.

A huge moss-colored dragon raised its head, and its mountain-like body emerged from the snow.

at the same time,

A ferocious giant beast with a whole body of bronze and an old dragon with dark green scales emerged from the snow one after another, shaking their bodies to reveal their true appearance.

Vormithor and Vhagar.

The screen changed and they returned to the conference hall.

Belron took a deep breath, and a sense of confidence rose in his heart. He said solemnly: "No problem, leave King's Landing to me."

His small team is still there, and it is more than enough to manage a city.

"Very good." Daemon raised the corner of his mouth and praised: "You have some courage like your father."

Looking at the continent of Westeros, there is no big chaos for the time being.

Oldtown is a small place, and no matter how much fighting, it will not cause trouble in Whispering Bay.

He must leave King's Landing and cannot be bound.

The army in the West has not crossed the Bitter Bridge yet, so it is necessary to urge them.

Leading the army north to the Great Wall can play the greatest role.