Game of Thrones: The Dragonborn.

[Chapter Size: 2000 Words.]

Third Person POV.

Somewhere on North.

...

...

To the north of the continent of Westeros, Jon continued approaching the mountain while the mist spread across the entire region in an open area up to that place.

There were undead everywhere, strangely circling the mountain, as if they were waiting to enter it or guarding something there. As he approached through the frozen wilderness, he thought about how he could possibly pass the undead without being noticed.

He had to stop at one point, realizing he couldn't continue like this, with all the undead scattered ahead of him. He raised his hand and began to cast a spell created in his palm, while purple energy gathered before launching it to open a portal to Oblivion, summoning a creature that took form as the portal closed.

The next moment, the atmosphere grew darker and even colder, as a dremora general emerged from the portal, with evil eyes and horns on his head. He looked at Jon as his summoner, awaiting orders.

"Dra'gash voran ulmir talak!" Jon began speaking in an unknown language to the creature.

The dremora general inclined his head. "Khorath naldur voshar. Valan thrak." The creature replied in the same tone. It looked ahead, analyzing the situation, quite curious about what it was seeing, and then turned back to Jon, speaking a few more words in that language. "Nok valash! Ildoroth krath mal'kun."

Jon nodded in agreement. "Vorash, tul makhar. Drethul volkar," he said finally with a sigh.

"I have no choice, do I?" he murmured in the end, resigned. After all, he couldn't remain in human form for what he was about to do.

Jon then began to take off his fur coat, storing it in a dimensional pouch, while remaining bare-chested, feeling the icy cold of that place more than ever before, even with his increased resistance to cold.

He sighed before feeling the change beginning to occur in his body as he transformed. His face began to elongate, and he quickly grew as fur appeared all over his body. Before that, Jon stomped against the ground with his boot tearing apart as he now had paws with claws instead of a human foot, assuming the form of a quadrupedal, muscular creature with white fur and sharp claws.

Jon had just become his white werewolf form, with red eyes. A creature that could blend in among the undead but still had its own aura, something that would be dealt with by the dremora he had summoned.

As he finished the transformation, he felt himself being enveloped by the aura of the summoned creature, forming a purple layer around his body. Once his transformation was complete, he now stood 3 meters tall, with a much more muscular body—an alpha werewolf—while having the layer of death energy to help him camouflage.

His transformation wasn't a grotesque change involving bones breaking and reshaping; it happened almost instantly, and within seconds, Jon was already a werewolf. He also didn't need a full moon to transform. His adventures in Dawnguard had provided him with such power, and he used this ability only when necessary. Although his human form with Thu'um was far more powerful, being a werewolf also had its benefits in certain situations.

"Morvak uldor vek'kal," the dremora creature began to say more things, while Jon looked at it strangely, after all, translated into the common tongue, it was something like, "Bring chaos and destruction," something normal for them.

Jon simply thanked it, his voice now much deeper and more guttural. The dremora just nodded, and the portal enveloped it once again, making it disappear.

He was alone again, still covered by the death magic. In his non-human form, he would have to see if the plan would work; otherwise, he would have to deal with thousands of undead alone. And so, he began taking his steps, advancing through the snow.

Before, Jon could only see the magical glows indicating the number of undead there. Now, they began to become more visible to the naked eye as he approached higher ground, where the mist provided a better view.

Thus, Jon reached a field in front of the mountain, full of undead standing in organized positions. To Jon, there were also White Walker knights standing ahead throughout the place; in every few rows of undead, they stood, and there were numerous of them, both as you got closer to the mountain and on the sides, each one positioned to command a number of soldiers. All were organized, which surprised Jon even more.

One of the White Walkers was standing in the front rows, looking ahead, but suddenly turned its head, roaring like ice cracking with the movement, and looked toward the hill where Jon was. It saw nothing there, with Jon already out of its sight.

'I will have to act more blatantly, but this will give me an advantage to reach the mountain or part of it. After all, I'll have to use a lot of energy in this gamble...' Jon thought as he began to swell his chest.

Everything seemed ordinary in front of the army of the dead, with only the sound of the wind and the rising mist, but an explosive sound emerged, rising into the sky, drawing the attention of all the White Walkers looking at it. Suddenly, an enormous snowstorm arose, covering the entire mountain and its surroundings in the next moment.

The White Walkers didn't care much about it, despite its strangeness, nor did their wights, despite the strange explosion and descending snow.

With the snow spreading, Jon then moved through the front rows. He would have limited time and began to walk among the armies of the dead, bumping into some bodies. However, the undead didn't care about his presence as he managed to camouflage himself.

Some White Walkers, seeing him pass by, only looked at the silhouette walking silently amidst the falling snow. Jon kept his feet under magic to make no sound, but he also couldn't run. All the White Walkers saw was a figure passing by, without noticing anything unusual, as they couldn't sense Jon's presence among the dead.

And so, Jon advanced. His expression furrowed as he reached a certain part of the path, for the storm he had summoned with his Thu'um was beginning to weaken, a sign that time was running out. Jon hurried, quickening his pace. He still had a long distance to cover to the mountain, at least a kilometer, while the undead army circled the entire area.

Now, with his footsteps making noise as he ran, the White Walkers began to notice something strange, searching for who might be the source of that sound among them, since no command had been given to the undead to move that way. They also couldn't sense Jon's presence, which confused them.

Jon then began to run at his maximum speed, noticing the movements around him. He knew he couldn't waste time, and so he ran much faster than any human. His storm began to dissipate, and the daylight began to reemerge. He stood out in his white werewolf form to everyone as he began to be seen, moving through the undead army.

All the White Walkers looked at him, and even Jon paused for a moment, curious, to observe the scene. The White Walkers looked at it, confused, seeing a giant quadrupedal creature resembling a three-meter-tall wolf. However, there were no blue eyes as they expected. The creature was clearly alive, but, for some reason, they couldn't sense its presence.

They quickly glanced at each other as if communicating and promptly raised their spears, letting out an inhuman sound like the roar of a malevolent creature, commanding their armies to kill the intruder.

And so it was: all the undead, who had been standing and looking ahead, suddenly began to turn their heads from all sides, with Jon becoming the center of their attention.

"Well, this certainly is something I've never been through before." Jon couldn't help but comment in an almost amused tone, as it truly was a new situation for him, something that made him feel almost entertained.

It was at that moment that, suddenly, all the creatures began running toward him. Jon sighed before leaning his knees forward and starting to run toward the mountain. He was already there, and he wasn't about to give up now. The creatures quickly ran at him, and Jon faced them, striking with his claws those who tried to stop him, tearing them apart easily in his current form.

But soon the undead started to become numerous, completely blocking his path, causing Jon to leap over them before falling back in the middle of them. Many tried to grab him, bite him, or even pierce him with swords, with his tough skin protecting him from many of those attacks. Still, he knew he couldn't hold on for long.

Jon began moving at his maximum speed. The more he fought, the more dead rose, with endless numbers there, others joining in, grabbing him, making his movements increasingly slower. Until suddenly, all the creatures jumped on him, creating a pile over his body at a point, hoping to kill him.

In the next moment, an explosion emerged, sending all the undead flying away as Jon used the Thu'um. The situation was more complicated than he had anticipated, and he quickly returned to his maximum and even greater speed.

Using a speed Thu'um, he disappeared, advancing like a ghost, much faster than before. The undead tried to catch him, but Jon was far too swift, focusing on one point, then turning to the other side, circumventing enemies with his current speed. He drew closer and closer to the mountain, even dodging ice spears thrown at him at that moment, some of them coming so close that they managed to cut him slightly, his skin clearly turning red with his blood.

He kept running, while thousands of creatures pursued him. "Well, I've certainly never been through this before," Jon murmured, looking back. He was lucky to be in that form, as the speed it provided was something his human form could never achieve—not even a fifth of what he was doing now.

"I'm getting there," he murmured, drawing closer. He passed through pillars in front of the mountain and fell onto lower ground, where there was a huge door ahead of him, surprising him. The creatures behind him passed through the pillars, like an uncontrolled wave, falling onto the ground, still desperately trying to reach him. Jon didn't think twice; he ran to the gate, the only entrance into the mountain.

It was strange, for that gate had clearly been made by human hands, but there was no time to think about it. He simply rushed forward, with the undead trying to grab him, some even managing to get hold of him. However, as soon as Jon passed through the gate, the undead began to fall apart, losing all their necromancy magic.

Many of them, who were behind, couldn't stop in time and, upon crossing the gate's threshold, began to collapse, turning into inanimate corpses on the ground, without any screams of pain as they used to, as if they simply ceased to exist, as if their magic was canceled from that point.

Jon sighed, still with some wounds from the spears that had cut his skin, and his fur was stained red. He just sighed as the transformation was canceled, shrinking back to his 1.90 m height. He was wearing torn shorts, barefoot and shirtless, his gaze turning toward the gate where the undead stood, not crossing it, just staring at him with fixed eyes.

"Damn, sometimes you guys really do know how to be creepy," Jon murmured, forgetting the tension for a moment, now that he was safe. However, the calling persisted. He turned to face whatever had brought him there.

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