Chapter 348

"The last time I scouted the movements of the dead, they had completed their assembly roughly ten miles north of Castle Black. However, instead of advancing toward the Wall, they split into two groups heading east and west. The eastern group, numbering five to six thousand, is led by three White Walkers and is currently lurking in the Ghost Forest outside the strongholds of the Nightfort, Greyguard, and Eastwatch-by-the-Sea. As for the group heading toward the Gorge... their numbers are endless, impossible to calculate. With the Night King leading them, I couldn’t get close enough to investigate further."

Five to six thousand—and that’s a specific count. But the rest are "uncountable"? Aegor felt a chill run down his spine. Even with the thirty thousand wildlings he had taken in, the enemy would have had thirty thousand more, and they would have been thirty thousand fewer on his side had he not acted.

The weight of it all pressed down on him, but he stayed silent, waiting for Bran to continue.

“Even without thinking too hard, it’s clear what they’re doing: searching for a way to bypass the Wall while waiting for the magic sustaining them to reach its peak... to strike at the most advantageous moment.” Bran’s words began to falter, his exhaustion evident from the effort of speaking so much. “I don’t mean to flatter, but the dead have yet to attack the Seven Kingdoms primarily because of the preparations you, Lord Commander, have made—be it the tight defenses along the Wall, the large-scale de-icing of the Bay of Seals, or the patrols along the Gorge. The Night’s Watch has sealed off every route. Sometimes I can’t help but wonder... perhaps you truly are the prophesied prince sent to combat the White Walkers.”

“Thank you. I’m no prince, just someone who prioritizes caution, considers every angle... and plugs every gap I can find.” Aegor couldn’t deny it—having his hard work acknowledged was satisfying. But he didn’t let it distract him from the task at hand. “Bran, I won’t force you to risk yourself tracking the Night King’s precise location, but I do need you to answer some questions about the enemy. After all, knowing one’s enemy is key to winning any battle. First: Are the White Walkers and the dead afraid of water? Could they cross the sea, either by swimming or walking along the seabed?”

“That is an important question,” Bran acknowledged with a nod. “I can give you a clear answer, but it requires explanation. First, the White Walkers are afraid of water. Though they were once living humans, their bodies have been gradually transformed by ice magic over countless years, shedding their flesh and sustaining themselves entirely on pure magic. Their physical forms are merely shapes held together by this magic. Much like how humans rely on food to maintain stable body temperatures—dying if they get too hot or cold—White Walkers exist within an optimal temperature range, one that is extremely low by human standards. When exposed to small amounts of water, they freeze into blocks of ice, which hinders their movement. When submerged in large quantities of water—like being thrown into the sea—they effectively ‘overheat’ due to the loss of their optimal temperature and perish, much like humans freezing to death.”

...

So that’s how it works. Does that mean it’s possible to capture a White Walker alive with water? Aegor turned the idea over in his mind but ultimately dismissed it. With their strength, even if a bucket of water froze them temporarily, they’d break free in an instant. Only a massive amount of water, enough to submerge them entirely, could hold them—and that was beyond their current capabilities.

After some thought, he asked a more plausible question. “Why don’t they just freeze the Bay of Seals and march across it?”

“They’re White Walkers, not gods,” Bran replied, rolling his eyes—the first truly childlike gesture he’d shown since Aegor entered the room. “You have a Red Priestess with considerable power by your side. When she wants a hot bath, does she jump into cold water and use magic to heat it up? Magic is scarce in this world, and while White Walkers are indeed far stronger than humans, they are still insignificant before the forces of nature.”

“So, they can’t freeze the bay?”

“I’m not one of them, so I can’t answer definitively,” Bran admitted. “But I can confirm this: the magic they use to sustain their bodies and temperatures already consumes most of their power. To freeze the entire Bay of Seals into a stable passage that could withstand attacks from above would likely require the sacrifice of at least a dozen White Walkers.”

Aegor let out a small sigh of relief. “And what about the wights? They don’t have the same low-temperature dependency. Couldn’t the White Walkers simply command them to wade across?”

“In theory, yes, but practically, it’s unlikely. First, wights can’t be too far from the White Walkers controlling them, especially not across the Wall. I’ll explain why shortly. Second, tell me: The Night’s Watch has encountered wights many times. Have you ever wondered why they fear fire?”

“Of course. Their bodies are filled with a flammable substance—corpse oil.”

“Exactly. Now ask yourself this: Why would the enemy give themselves such a glaring weakness?”

Why indeed?

Bran’s question planted a seed of doubt in Aegor’s mind. Could it be a trap? Were the wights designed to lull them into believing fire was their ultimate defense, only for the enemy to render them immune in the final battle? If so, all their wildfire preparations would be rendered useless. Aegor felt a brief surge of panic but quickly dismissed it—it wasn’t logical. If the wights were immune to fire, their threat level would have been insurmountable from the start, and they would have steamrolled humanity already. There would be no need for subtlety or traps.

“I suppose the corpse oil is as essential to them as blood is to humans—something they can’t function without, even if it becomes a vulnerability.”

“Correct. The corpse oil serves at least three purposes,” Bran explained, his voice strained from exertion. “First, it stores the ice magic that reanimates the wights, making them more than just dead bodies. Second, it acts as a medium, allowing them to absorb magic from the air and sustain themselves. Third, it serves as lubrication for their muscles and joints, delaying natural decay. Without corpse oil, wights would become stiff and fragile, no longer fearing fire but susceptible to swords and clubs. They’d even collapse if they strayed too far from a White Walker.”

So corpse oil was essential to their function. Aegor had worried about fireproof wights, but it seemed his concerns were unfounded.

“That explains why wights fear fire. But what about water? Is it possible they’re afraid of water because the corpse oil dissolves in it?”

“No, wights aren’t afraid of water. What they fear is ice,” Bran corrected with a wry smile. “I know it sounds counterintuitive—wights animated by ice magic afraid of ice? But after observing them for some time, I discovered the truth. It’s a misnomer: the magic animating them isn’t truly ‘ice magic.’ The cold is a byproduct of its operation, not its essence. Ice, being water frozen at low temperatures, is actually a terrible conductor of magic. In this regard… you should have some experience: neither the bodies of the White Walkers nor the weapons they wield—which appear to be forged from ice—are actually made of ice at all."

“That’s why wights struggle in icy environments. The ice not only hinders their movements but also disrupts the magic controlling them. And ice magic can’t melt ice—it’s counterproductive to its very nature. That’s why the White Walkers would never send wights wading through icy waters to bypass the Wall.”

...

Aegor sat quietly in his chair, processing the secrets of the White Walkers and wights that Bran had revealed.

The first thing he understood was what Bran meant by “you should have some experience.” Clearly, the greenseer had taken an interest in Aegor and reviewed his encounter with a White Walker in the Ghost Forest three years ago. Recalling the events, Aegor remembered details that aligned with Bran’s explanation: the White Walker’s weapon, which shattered like ice upon impact, and its body, which dissolved in a way entirely inconsistent with physical ice—it sublimated, leaving no trace.

It wasn’t water. It was more like a gas with a high freezing point, sublimating rapidly upon contact with heat.

Aegor nodded inwardly. This theory was coherent and matched his observations. Unless the greenseer was lying—and there was no reason for Bran to mislead the Night’s Watch—this had to be the truth.

Bran, watching Aegor’s contemplative expression, cautioned, “I don’t know what you’re thinking, Lord Commander, but don’t let this make you complacent or reduce Eastwatch’s garrison. A natural force may counter another, but while the White Walkers can’t freeze the bay, winter itself can.”

Aegor nodded. Even without the reminder, he wouldn’t risk weakening their defenses. “Understood. The deployments at the Bay of Seals will remain as they are.”

After a moment’s thought, he asked another question weighing on his mind. “The Wall was built seven hundred feet high, yet it ends abruptly at the Gorge. Why not extend it westward to the Bay of Ice, sealing off every possible route?”

...