Joffrey bolted for the door. The last thing he wanted was to fight inside that hall. Jon was a shorter man, and the place was advantageous to him.
Bam!
He jumped down the last few stairs and then quickly stood ready in the large yard. He watched Jon Snow, or whatever he was now, calmly walk down and approach him. Eventually, Jon also unsheathed his blade.
"Wraaaa!"
In the sky, Drogon's roar echoed. Daenerys had likely seen the situation. And she reacted fast, diving straight down towards Jon Snow.
But Jon was smart even in that state. He rushed towards Joffrey at full speed, sword drawn, raised high and ready to strike.
Clank!
Joffrey blocked the attack and pushed back. By then, Drogon also stopped diving and flew back up. He understood what Jon was doing. As long as Jon remained close beside him, Daenerys wouldn't use dragon fire.
"I saw it through his eyes. It was you who did it! It was you behind everything!" Jon Snow roared and went berserk with his sword strikes. His swings were fast, precise, and strong, with his footwork so efficient that Joffrey had to take a few steps back to keep himself safe. "You killed them... Lord Stark, Robb, Brandon, Rickard—you!"
"Not Robb." Joffrey reacted with a smirk and fought back. Years of training were for this, and he was no dumb kid from the start. He remembered the first time he was in Winterfell years ago. Even then, he was taller than Robb and almost defeated him despite being two years younger.
Now, he was in his prime. Trained by the best of swordsmen in the realm.
"Haaaa!" Jon roared and stabbed forward towards Joffrey's chest.
Clank!
Joffrey slapped his sword sideways and deflected Jon's blade, but continuing the momentum, he slammed the butt of his hilt on Jon's cold, wraith-like face. "Don't tell me you're going to cry now. You should just die. I'm taking good care of Sansa, Arya, and Catelyn, even Ygritte."
"You're a monster!" Jon lunged recklessly as if pain simply didn't register in his mind. "It was you all along behind everything… I will kill you!"
Who told him everything? Night King?
Joffrey knew one thing for certain. Jon had to be killed right there and then.
"Is that why you stand with the Night King? I don't even know what creature you've become, but you're certainly no ally to the living." Joffrey surged ahead and overpowered Jon Snow. His flaming blade posed a greater threat to Jon.
"I brought peace to the realm—me! Your grim little stares won't change that. Ha!"
Left, right, stab, Joffrey gave Jon a barrage of his blazing sword. He knew Jon had to be careful, as even the slightest cut was risky. However, Joffrey was unsure if Jon was a White Walker. The eyes and the facial features hinted at that, but Jon still looked too human.
Woosh!
Joffrey took a daring step forward, closer into Jon's range, and almost cut Jon's face. But Jon was quick to duck and roll back away from Joffrey.
"Why? Scared of fire and Valyrian steel?" Joffrey taunted him.
Sadly, he cursed his mouth a moment later. Jon raised his arms wide, and almost magically, the air started to feel colder, denser, and depressing. Then a strange rustling sound came, slowly growing stronger, then finally…
Shh…!
A skeleton arm jutted out of the dirt. Then more, and soon there were almost a hundred of those skeleton arms. They dug more and pulled out the rest of their bodies.
"Wraits!" Joffrey sneered.
The wraiths didn't all look fully decomposed. Some had black cloaks on them. Clearly, they were the men of the Night's Watch.
"You die today, Joffrey." Jon declared.
Fuck! I'm no god. A dozen I can take, but a hundred… Seven hel—Wait!
Just then, Joffrey remembered the blessings the Seven had given him. What were they even about? Were they meaningless? He'd never felt anything after that orb of light had entered his body. At least R'hllor gave him the fire. What did the Seven give?
Seven! Warrior? Stranger? Where are you? Didn't we have an agreement?
Shhh…!
The sword sizzled. Joffrey glared at the wraiths that surrounded Jon now. They didn't hold any swords and looked rather harmless. But their numbers were their strength. They could just pounce on him and bury him under their weight while ripping him apart piece by piece.
At last, Jon Snow raised his sword high and sent the wraiths rushing towards Joffrey. All one hundred of them. They growled somehow, and they stumbled. Some even broke apart in pieces but still kept crawling towards Joffrey.
Even R'hllor was bett—
As if his taunts had worked, he suddenly felt warm all over. As if someone had embraced him from behind. Then, he felt a grip on his wrist, like someone was trying to guide his hand. Slowly, he felt covered with those different sensations—strength, mastery of the blade, courage, wisdom, desire to protect, desire to conquer, and… desire to kill.
It felt as if all of the seven gods descended in their astral form and shrouded his body in their magic. It wasn't overwhelming. It didn't make him feel invincible. But it made him confident in his next moves. He knew he was doing the right thing before even flinching.
It became clear then. The Seven didn't give him magic like R'hllor, but they gave him guidance and experience.
"Let's see who kills who, Jon. Besides, I think you forgot something." Joffrey smirked, crouching slightly and then jumping backward like a spring.
Woosh!
"Wraaaaa!"
Shhhhhh~
Right then, Daenerys dove down with Drogon, fire spewing from the dragon's jaws. In an instant, more than half of the wraiths rushing towards Joffrey were burned to ashes. It was instant death.
Joffrey took advantage of the smoke and rushed forward.
Clank!
He struck down the leftover wraiths and killed them with ease. Fire combined with Valyrian steel was magical. They disintegrated as soon as he'd slash at them. One after another, the extra, phantom arm of who he reckoned was the Warrior, guided him with utmost precision.
Not a moment wasted.
Clank!
Clank!
Finally, after making his way through the wraiths, Joffrey reached Jon Snow and clashed with him. He was different now, however. While Jon had more real-life fighting experience, Joffrey had the actual Warrior guiding his moves.
"Haaaa!" Joffrey roared and blocked every attack, followed by his counter. Just one. He needed just one good hit to end it all. He didn't have too much time before the remaining wraiths would surround him.
Clink!
Sparks flew where the steel met. With combos, downward strikes, Joffrey used his greater height to make Jon step back.
"You should've stayed dead, Jon!" Joffrey rumbled, his arms moving on their own. At his rushed pace, Jon was reduced to constant defense.
Clash!
Clank!
Again and again, Joffrey finally pushed Jon to his knees after a constant barrage of strikes. His sword was heavier, larger, and burning in flames. It was everything that Jon couldn't touch.
"Stay the fuck down! Ha! Ha!"
As if his sword was an ax, Joffrey smashed at Jon below.
The dead bastard had his blade held flat in two hands, trying to block Joffrey's attacks. Jon's face held no expressions of fear, anger, or any emotions. That was enough to tell what it really was.
"Haaa!"
At last, Jon's sword couldn't take it anymore and started cracking.
"Haaa!"
Joffrey struck right there and finally…
Clank!
"Got you!"
As soon as Jon's sword broke apart, Joffrey stabbed downward on Jon's chest and pierced through easily. He didn't know if there was a beating heart in there, but he still did it to be sure.
Joffrey felt the blade slide into the frozen flesh. It didn't feel human or alive, it resembled ice more than flesh. His sword was still burning, so the fire spread around and covered Jon's fur cloak, eventually covering his entire body. Yet Jon didn't squirm in pain.
"You… won't win…"
Joffrey scoffed at that comment.
"You were never truly alive, Jon," Joffrey said with a sneer, watching faint cracks creep across Jon's face. His voice dropped to a mockery of pity. "It may have been your prophecy once. But it belongs to me now—and I intend to wear it like a crown."
Joffrey twisted his blade and pulled it out. The blue, bright spark vanished from Jon's eyes as the cracks grew too large and the fire consumed him. In no time, his body turned into ashes, and so did the remaining wraiths around him.
So he did create the Wraiths.
The eerie calm once again returned. Joffrey doused the flames on his sword and looked around. Then he looked towards the South, in the direction of Winterfell.
Jon must have been the distraction.
If that was the case, Joffrey assumed that the Night King feared him.
Finally, he looked back up in the sky and sighed. Daenerys was still there, flying in circles. She'd disobeyed him and remained behind. While it bothered him, he considered it the right decision. Without her, going back south as quickly as possible would have been an issue.
Let's hurry back.
Joffrey waved towards the sky and called for Daenerys.
Wait!
Right then, he felt the hairs on his nape stand on end. He remembered something extremely important. The very reason why he'd allowed the Wildlings to come south. It was meant to be a major blow to the Night King and his army of wraiths.
"The Wildling settlement!"
______________________
THIS STORY HAS ENDED ON PATREON.
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