To enhance the performance, Dany even did a little warm-up beforehand.
She personally stepped forward and stabbed an unbound wight a few times with an ordinary iron sword. The creature remained lively, completely unfazed, baring its teeth and lunging at her.
Then, she drew her Valyrian steel sword and pierced the wight's heart with a single thrust. There was no resistance—it was as if a robot had suddenly lost power. The blue glimmer in the corpse's eyes vanished instantly as it collapsed, once again lifeless, beginning to rot and decay.
Next, Dany had Grenn step forward and strike the ice sword mounted on a wooden rack with an ordinary steel sword.
Clang! Clang! Clang! The high-pitched screeching of metal clashing filled the air, making everyone feel dizzy and nauseous.
After a few strikes, Grenn began to shiver, thick white mist billowing from his mouth, while his sword was coated in a thin layer of bluish frost.
Crack! Finally, the iron sword shattered like glass into countless sharp fragments scattered all over the ground.
"Seven hells, it's just a sword, and it almost froze me to death." Grenn tossed away the hilt, took off his leather gloves, and breathed hard on his frostbitten, reddened hands.
"Try mine next." Dany handed Clear Sky to the big oaf.
He rubbed his hands warm on his wool sweater, then put on thick sheepskin gloves, took Clear Sky, and struck the ice sword with force.
Clang, clang, clang, clang... The blades clashed edge to edge, the frequency of vibration exceeding the limits of human hearing, producing a nearly infrasonic screech. Wildlings, Night's Watch brothers, and the Stag Party knights all stepped back with discomfort on their faces.
"That's enough." Seeing the frost spreading over Grenn's gloves, Dany raised her hand to halt the test.
Huff, huff... Grenn's hands were numb from cold, but the effort of swinging the sword left his whole body burning and gasping for breath.
"That's terrifying. I can't even beat a White Walker's sword. What do I do if I actually run into one?" he said in frustration.
Fat Sam stared dumbly at Clear Sky, now sheathed in a layer of ice crystals, then looked at the ice sword whose blade didn't even have a nick the size of a grain of rice. He said worriedly, "Dragonglass is even more brittle than steel, and there are only so many Valyrian steel swords..."
"Eh, how many White Walkers are there anyway? And how many brave warriors does Westeros have?"
Dany took back Clear Sky, now covered in ice. With a pulse of sorcery, fire element flowed through the blade—crack! crack!—the ice shattered and fell away, and with a whoosh, the sword gleamed with a faint yellow flame, drawing gasps of awe from the onlookers.
"Even I, a master of both magic and martial arts, can't guarantee victory every time I duel a White Walker. You guys are far below me—fighting one-on-one is suicide.
But we outnumber them, don't we? We can gang up! One man takes a hit, another delivers one. Trade lives if we have to—it's a blood bargain in our favor!"
Was that supposed to be comforting?
Everyone stood blank-faced.
"Stannis, your turn." Sheathed once more, Clear Sky returned to Dany's waist as she nodded toward the second stag.
With a solemn expression, Stannis walked up to a wight and drew his sword with a shing.
The blade was cherry red, shimmering with a strange, mist-like glow that changed colors vaguely and continuously, never settling—yet no heat emanated from it.
"Wow!" gasped the wildlings and Night's Watch brothers.
The Stag Party knights clapped proudly. "That's Lightbringer, the Hero's Red Sword! The legendary weapon Azor Ahai used to end the Long Night!"
"This..." Dany frowned and stepped closer for a better look, but Stannis shifted slightly to block her, casting a reproachful glance.
"There's something odd about this sword, it seems..." Dany's expression twisted in uncertainty, struggling to describe the feeling. She stepped back and said, "Try it first. Afterward, may I take a closer look?"
"We'll see." Stannis muttered as he thrust the sword into the wight's chest.
Sizzle— There was no resistance at all. The red sword pierced through rotting cloth and stiffened flesh, striking the heart.
Crackle! Just like Clear Sky, the wight instantly lost vitality and collapsed, the corpse beginning to rot and fall apart.
"Nice!" Though the wildlings and Night's Watch men looked disappointed that the wight didn't burst into flames, the Stag Party knights cheered loudly.
Stannis, however, showed neither pride nor excitement. Lips tight, he turned toward a White Walker and raised the sword to strike.
"Don't hit too hard, and don't go for vital points just yet. Try hacking at its ice armor first," Dany advised.
Ding! Stannis's expression changed, and the cheers of the Stag Party knights abruptly stopped.
The red sword struck the ice armor, only chipping off a tiny shard—far from cutting through like a hot knife through butter.
Clear Sky had shown the same result.
Ding! Stannis gritted his teeth and stabbed again.
Still, the armor was unpierced.
Ding, ding, ding...
Doubt and uncertainty began to flicker in Stannis's eyes. He stopped and looked at Melisandre with a furrowed brow.
Everyone else turned to the red priestess as well, suspicion beginning to grow.
Deep within, Melisandre was in turmoil: This doesn't make sense—scientifically, magically, or prophetically!
If the Red Sword of Heroes worked like this, then Azor Ahai's wife—Nissa Nissa—must've died in vain!
Even in this "barbaric" land of Westeros, there were over two hundred Valyrian steel swords.
The prophecy must be correct... So, is the sword fake?
Could some unworthy descendant of House Hyrkoon have switched it out and hidden the real one?
"Your Grace, please try striking the ice sword a few more times," Melisandre said calmly.
Clang— Stannis brought the sword down, producing a sickeningly high-pitched noise. The ice sword, fixed to the rack, trembled violently but didn't break.
Clang, clang, clang... After seven or eight more strikes, the ice sword finally showed a notch. Thin blue light flickered across its transparent blade, and fine cracks began to appear.
But the crowd remained silent, with no cheers—because the so-called Lightbringer in Stannis's hand had lost its red glow. The blade turned pitch black, a thin frost forming along its edge, and the magical radiance surrounding it dimmed almost to extinction.
"Whoosh." Stannis held the sword horizontally across his chest, exhaling visible white breath as he focused intently. The blade was still sharp, unmarred, but the mysterious glow had vanished.
"Does this count as a qualified hero's sword?" he asked Melisandre solemnly.
"Stronger than Valyrian steel," the Red Woman replied uncomfortably, lifting her chin slightly. The pigeon-egg-sized ruby on her neck shimmered with an eerie red light.
Boom! Suddenly, the Lightbringer ignited with crimson flames three feet high. Frost instantly melted and evaporated, and the blade was once again surrounded by a magical, shimmering aura.
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Dany shot a glance at the cheating Red Woman and asked Davos, "Can I give it a try? Just try. I have a theory I need to test."
Hiss! Davos clenched his jaw and carefully examined the crimson-glowing longsword from both sides before suddenly stabbing it into the ground. Saying nothing, he stepped back two paces.
Everyone held their breath, nervously watching the Dragon Queen as she approached the red sword. She removed her iron gauntlets and gripped the leather-wrapped hilt directly with her fair hand—fingertips and palm bearing a few pale yellow calluses.
Nothing unusual happened. The red sword continued to flicker with shifting, illusory flames. The hero's red sword didn't reject the Dragon Queen, nor did she cause it to undergo any further transformation.
A worthless blade with an empty reputation?
Doubt crept into everyone's hearts.
But Dany's expression grew solemn. She held the sword up and examined it closely for a long while before sighing. "My earlier feeling wasn't wrong. There's a soul sealed inside this sword."
"You can sense it?" Melisandre cried out in shock, losing her composure in front of everyone for the first time.
"Could it be Nissa Nissa? According to legend, Azor Ahai plunged the flaming sword into his wife's chest, infusing it with her blood, soul, strength, and courage," said old Aemon, equally stunned.
Melisandre steadied herself and questioned skeptically, "Your magical and spiritual powers are weaker than mine, and you're not as specialized in soul-related matters. Why can't I sense any soul presence at all?"
"Can I try infusing it with sorcery?" Dany asked hesitantly.
"Go ahead," Melisandre urged eagerly, clearly excited.
What she cared about was the rebirth of Azor Ahai—not Stannis. If the Dragon Queen could...
"This..." Dany looked at Stannis with a peculiar expression. "Why don't we find somewhere private?"
"Why?" Davos still wore his solemn expression.
"I'm afraid all your men might end up following me," she quipped, glancing at the Flame-Heart knight nearby, craning his neck to get a better view.
"You think you can unlock its true power?" Davos ground his teeth.
"For some reason, I feel it's craving my power."
Davos gave Dany a deep, probing look. "I'd very much like to see that."
Buzz— In the next instant, the hero's red sword began to tremble violently in Dany's hands, as though a sleeping sun had awakened. Blinding crimson light erupted, and scorching heat waves surged outward, even charring the ends of Davos's hair, forcing him to shield his eyes and retreat quickly.
"Ahhhh—" The White Walkers howled in agony within the searing red light. Even under sunlight they'd never reacted with such pain and violence.
"Ah!" Onlookers screamed in terror at the intense heat, struggling to back away from the source of the blinding glow.
Melisandre's red robes and waist-length red hair fluttered wildly in the heat waves, but she did not retreat a single step. The red light bathed everything around her, casting a crimson glow across her pale, heart-shaped face.
"The Lightbringer lives. Daenerys awakened it. Could I have been wrong all along? Is she the prophesied child?" Her red eyes were filled with shock and confusion.
Flames raged back and forth between the blade and hilt. Dany's armor glowed red-hot, and her silver hair danced within the rising flames. The air around her warped from the heat within a three to four meter radius, making it nearly impossible to see her clearly—only an overwhelming sense of light and heat pouring from her body.
Yet she seemed entirely unfazed by the scorching flames, her fair hand still gripping the black leather hilt.
Slash! The red sword cut through the air like slicing paper, cleaving a howling White Walker from head to toe. Its icy armor crumbled like softened butter.
Boom! For the first time, the White Walker didn't dissolve into milky white fluid. Instead, it erupted into three feet of roaring flames.
Ting! With a casual swipe, two ice swords stacked on a wooden table broke in half. The table then caught fire, the ice swords melting into clear water that evaporated in the flames.
The crowd retreated more than ten meters, yet the heat still scorched them, leaving everyone drenched in sweat. Staring at the Dragon Queen freely wielding the red sword, all were stunned into silence.
Suddenly, old Aemon's eyes went wild as he cried out in excitement, "The hero's red sword—this is the true hero's red sword! The bane of the White Walkers!"
Dany gave Stannis, whose face was ashen, a quick glance, then with a whoosh, drove the sword into the ground. The flames and heat waves immediately retracted into the blade.
(End of Chapter)
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