Game of Dragonborn.

[Chapter Size: 2000 Words.]

Third Person POV.

Bear Sland.

...

...

"Quick! Quick!!" The ironborn shouted as they received the news just before sunrise, quickly falling into despair upon learning that their ships were being stolen. The leaders of the encampment immediately began organizing men to return to the coast.

The people on the walls of Castle Mormont watched everything with surprised eyes as they saw the sudden movement of the ironborn, not understanding the reason.

Quickly, a group of a thousand men was sent ahead, to move faster in stopping those who had attacked the camp on the beach guarding the ships from leaving with them.

Other groups went after the other camps to check the situation, though they were groups of only a few dozen men.

All of this was seen by the wargs through the animals in the sky, while Jon had taken a short nap on the mast of some boat. His men were excited about the possible battle ahead.

Jon was relaxed, and as the sun rose, the first men began running toward them, coming directly from the castle. They had 800 men with them at that moment, who had joined them throughout the night, with another 150 scattered across the island taking care of the camps and the women they had rescued from the ironborn.

Thanks to the element of surprise along with the free folk, they had only lost 50 men while killing more than 1200 enemies.

"Looks like they're finally here. After all, they don't want to lose the ships, nor the gold and slaves inside the ships." Jon commented, sliding down from the mast while stepping onto the deck, yawning, looking at the enemy stopping at a distance to observe.

"What should we do, my lord?" one of them asked, preparing for battle.

"We're slightly outnumbered. They didn't send the entire group because they want to stop us from sailing away with the ships... So they intend to wait until the larger group is on the beach to attack us, since it would be a more guaranteed victory with fewer losses for them. After all, they've doubled their numbers..." Jon commented with a bit of good humor.

"I want everyone in front of the ships ready for battle against them, with their weapons ready to kill those worms." Jon said again as everyone shouted in a collective cry, jumping off the ship, since they had slept on it a bit, their feet hitting the beach and filling it with the 800 men, wielding axes, swords, and bows.

Jon also joined his men, his gaze fixed on the 1000 ironborn watching without attacking—after all, they weren't fleeing with the ships, and as Jon had predicted, they were waiting for the group to arrive.

"Hey, Jon! Are you sure we can't kill a few of them?" Tormund approached.

"Only if you also want to get caught in my dragon's flames." Jon teased, since Winter would be right there once the main group was fully gathered, turning the area into a great sea of white flames and death.

"But you know... maybe we should kill a few of them then." Jon said, calling Tormund and three other men with him as he began walking away from the group along with them, heading to the middle of the beach separating the two groups.

The ironborn saw this and began choosing a few men, sending eight to speak with Jon and the others, as that's what Jon was signaling.

It would be a brief exchange of words and insults as Jon stopped there with the others from the free folk, still wearing the armor of the ironborn themselves.

"You damned savages, we heard rumors you crossed the Wall, seems it's true." An ironborn immediately growled, approaching them.

"Whores from north of the Wall, think you'll live after coming here to invade lands we already control and steal our spoils?"

"You talk a lot for dead men, like bitches, while we buried our axes in your fragile skulls." Tormund said openly, mocking them.

"Look at this, a redheaded savage. Let's kill him—after making him scream like a woman." the ironborn mocked.

Free Folk and Ironborn talking before a battle—Jon wasn't surprised that the only thing coming out of both groups' mouths were insults. Neither knew how to negotiate and would keep offending each other until they got tired and killed one another right there.

But Jon had a side here, and he smiled at the ironborn like fools who would soon die.

"We've noticed you seem to be doing quite well killing northerners and making slaves after stealing belongings and burning their homes. You must be proud of all that." Jon began, drawing the group's attention to him.

"So what, you whore? You should be worried that you'll die soon along with the other savage whores around here. We'll attack your camp later and take your women—we'll fuck every last one of them to hear how the savages scream." he growled at Jon.

"You really shouldn't have said that to this guy. You're seriously crazy." Tormund replied, hearing it with a hint of pity for the one who had just spoken, who didn't quite understand before looking at Jon, who was still smiling at him.

"You know... once I'm done wiping every last one of you from the North, I'll go to Pyke and all the isles. I'll make sure to break every one of your castles and fortresses. I'll destroy most of your homes. I'll see to it the ironborn live the next generations in misery like never before." Jon said coldly, while his group swallowed hard, knowing that a threat like that from him wasn't just words.

As absurd as it sounded, something in Jon's words struck a chord with them, and they didn't mock. The same man who had just spoken looked at Jon with a strange expression.

"Who are you?" he asked. Despite not stuttering and speaking firmly, he seemed to look at Jon with a hint of caution.

"It doesn't matter, since you'll die here." Jon said—and without even moving his hands, he used his telekinesis.

The man couldn't even process all the words Jon had said before feeling his legs collapse the next moment, as both his legs suddenly snapped.

"AHHHHHHH!!!" he screamed, crashing to the ground as everyone was startled by something so sudden and inexplicable. And as they looked to the group, Jon was already in front, throwing an axe at the next man, the axe burying itself in the head of the second unlucky one, killing him.

The sword Dark Sister was summoned to his hand a moment later, and he advanced, rallying his men.

"Kill every last one of them." Jon gave his brief command, and his men drew their weapons and charged at the remaining group of six.

Both larger groups watched in surprise as they saw the five men of the Free Folk, including Jon, facing the remaining six ironborn—while Jon was already cutting down his second and striking the third with ease.

The disadvantage quickly turned as the ironborn fell one after another with ease, leaving Jon's group untouched—he had taken down four himself while the last man still screamed, lying on the beach with both legs twisted forward and broken.

Jon approached the last one, crouching down as the man looked up at him, no longer with the confidence he had before.

"Look at you now... not so brave anymore." Jon said in a calm tone that sent chills down the spine of anyone who heard him.

"Please..." the man began to cry.

"Hahaha. I told you he was crazy." Tormund laughed at the man's misfortune.

"Alright. I'll kill you, but I want you to spend your final moments rethinking your miserable life." Jon said, and as he drew a dagger from his belt, he suddenly thrust it into the man's shoulder without warning, catching even his companions by surprise.

"AAAHHH!!" The scream could be heard across the entire beach.

"Aren't they going to attack us?" one of the Free Folk asked as he looked toward the thousand ironborn standing still.

"They're not going to risk attacking us now. They'll wait for the main group." Jon explained before turning back to the screaming man.

Beyond the blood, the skin around the dagger began to turn rotten.

"This is a dagger laced with a mixture of ice spider venom, a herb from Sothoryos I got in Braavos, and a few other poisons I picked up from the Citadel. I ended up creating a kind of poison that's never existed in this world. It'll run through your entire body, activating your adrenaline at the same time—so your body will never relax, and you'll feel the pain fully conscious until it consumes you entirely.

When it's done with you, your body will be necrotic—you'll look like a corpse that died moons ago. A truly horrible way to die. But that's my answer to your threats. Good luck." Jon said, starting to walk away, leaving the dagger buried in the man's shoulder.

He kept screaming, begging Jon not to leave him there, feeling a pain he had never experienced before, as his skin began to darken and spread, as if he were burning from the inside.

Everyone looked on and said nothing, telling themselves they were lucky not to be that man.

Jon returned to the ships with his men, leaving behind the seven corpses and a man slowly dying in the worst way imaginable.

The ironborn came for him as soon as Jon and the others left the area, grabbing the still-screaming man and carrying him to the assembled group—which turned out to be a bad idea, since their companion already had an entire arm rotting, along with part of his chest and face, and it kept spreading across his body.

Their gaze slowly shifted toward the savages, now with fear in their eyes.

Jon didn't care and made his way to Val and Ygritte, who were tending to the women aboard the ships. He stayed with them, chatting about random things, watching the group across from them finally grow larger.

That was what he'd been waiting for, as the thousand ironborn became 2,700 gathering in front of them.

The Free Folk grew a little nervous, but Jon remained calm.

Everyone saw what had become of that ironborn's body—completely darkened, looking like a walking corpse. No one wished such a death on anyone, while their leader took the dagger left in the body and swore he would use it on the one who had done this.

"They certainly hate me. Too bad for them—it ends here." Jon said, stepping forward.

His wives remained where they were, waiting for what came next.

"Remember, men—I want anyone who runs this way killed without mercy. I don't want a single one of them left alive." Jon said as the ironborn, seeing the enemy group seemingly preparing to attack, began to organize their nearly three thousand men.

Though they wanted to mock the enemy for being outnumbered, they also moved with purpose, eager to avenge the comrades killed—or poisoned in such a terrible way—on the beach.

There would be no more negotiation. They were confident they'd massacre the 800 enemies in front of them.

What they didn't expect was that, as they tangled themselves together, a massive creature was descending from the sky at that very moment—Jon had finally given the order for Winter to strike.

The creature flapped her wings silently as the ironborn barely had time to mutter anything before Winter was already upon them.

The next moment, the female dragon opened her mouth and unleashed her white flames, bathing hundreds of men in them within seconds—leaving a trail of death in her path, now facing the largest group yet, while the ironborn fell into complete despair.

-------------Nexts Chapters ----------------

Capítulo 148 - Destroying the Bolton Camp.

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