Dead or alive, there is no end!

The Night King was back in Westeros and terrorised the Kingdom. Undead raided the country, the temperature had fallen way below zero, food was running out. Two days the fighting was going on now, two days full of suffering, of death but also endless hope. K32 had defeated this enemy before, they all know that if they work together, they can make it and even the smallest warrior joined the forces at Winterfell to help reach victory. But look yourself what happened until now:

The slow progress was eating up their motivation and Tonga was not sure how long they would be able to keep up the effort. More and more soldiers died, ressources were running low. He was aware that he was one of the strongest warriors in the kingdom and that he had to make an extra effort to give the people some more spirit and push the progress. So last night he went right into the middle of the battlefield and attacked the Night King hour after hour. So many soldiers died, but none of the remaining hesitated when he sent them out again and again.The gurgling voices of the White Walkers filled the battlefield, the swords cutting through the undead flesh, the screaming when his own soldiers fell. He did not listen, he focussed fully on his attacks, if he started thinking he might not be able to keep going. And finally he and all the fighting warriors reached the first success. Finally they had killed enough of the strongest archers, that the weaker armored troops of the Night King joined the battle. This was such an important point of the battle. The spirit in the lines of the fighters rose immediately. Fighters that were thinking about taking a break found some more energy and started a new set of rallies, knowing that now that they were facing lower tier troops, the damage will be much higher and with that the progress much faster. 

Tonga just took a moment to cherish this moment, to send a silent prayer to the Old Gods for this little, but so important success before he sent out his soldiers again. He needed to keep going, now that the spirit of the other fighters went up again, he was the one who had to push them on, give them hope that they could do it. Not only do it, but do it in under 3 days. 

The darkness filled the night, hour after hour past by. Tonga totally lost track of time. On and on his soldiers went, battling the undead, dragging themselves back to the castle, replenishing the dead ones, refreshing their armors, healing the wounded, going out again. And endless circle, exhausting for everyone, but there was no other way. There was no time to grieve for the dead, they will do that soon, when the threat is averted. And so slowly, every so slowly, they killed Undead after Undead, diminishing the troops of the Night King step by step. It was almost morning, or would be, if the Night King would not have brought endless darkness, when Tonga almost fell off his horse due to the exhaustion that took over. He couldn’t count the hours he had spent here, but looking at his brave soldiers, he knew it was time to take a break. He knew that soon more fighters of TgL would wake up and he had to leave it to them now to keep pushing. Limping, sore, with blood of his soldiers, his own and undead flesh all over him he went back to Winterfell. He managed to take off his armor, before he instantly fell into the bed and into a deep deep sleep. 

Exhausted and sore all over Tongafco awoke. It was 4am, no sign of the day yet and he slept only 4h. The sound of the battle was carried over through the window. He wanted to sleep a bit longer, last night took all of him and if there was fighting going on his effort have fulfilled their aim and pushed the spirit back on. But he could not get back to sleep. Recognizing the pauses between the fights he realized that there were only rallies going with only one leader. They will not be strong enough and most likely just bounce at the reinforcement. No chance to get back to sleep, he could as well go to the battlefield again and end this once and for all. He realised that he still had all the filthy dirt on him from last night but somehow at least his armor had been cleaned. He put it back on, feeling every muscle, every bruise and all the little injuries. But he would not be a warrior, if he would let that stop him. He grabbed the girth with his sword and went to the stable. A scout gave him a short update. 

There were still T4 bows in and Jul was rallying. So he knew what to do. He will go straight to the heart of the battle again, cleaning out all reinforcements so that the rally from Jul can kill as many of the Night King troops as possible. As soon as they reached T3 troops, this would be over very quickly. Jul gave him a short greeting, she did not look better than him, her soldiers as exhausted as his had been last night. He was sure she was going for hours too already. He took his soldiers, not a single one hesitating, knowing that many more will die now, but also absolutely sure, that this will be the last effort. Tonga took his place and started the attacks, Jul kept the rallies going and the progress was impressive. More and more of the undead piled up on the battlefield. The resistance decreased by the organized attacks and it did not take long until the last archers were pushed from the wall and the Night King had to send out the lowest of his soldiers to defend his position. The exhaustion and the soreness were not to feel anymore. With this last milestone in defending the kingdom, Tonga activated all left power to set out for the final fight. And he was not alone. Jul joined him and together they sent out attack after attack. So many times they had fought together, never giving in until victory was achieved. From the distance the rallies were sent and the deep black sky turned into a little grey as if even the gods realised how close the final defeat of this threat was and wanted to send some additional hope. The gurgling and snarling did not end but more and more White Walkers were slaughtered. Fewer and fewer of soldiers of K32 died. They have broken through the endless defense, have killed already more than 600M undead, there was nothing that could stop them now. More soldiers joined the heart of the battlefield. 

This was teamwork, this was what makes this kingdom so special, why they always survive, no matter how overpowering the enemy was. Solo, rally, solo, there was no time for reinforcement, no time to rearrange the defense, no time to regain any strength. Everyone felt it. Tonga marched over the slain bodies, White Walkers and humans. But there was no time to think about that now. The walls of the Night King castle crumbled, the cracks becoming bigger and deeper. It was time to end it now! 

He took his bravest soldiers, his fastest horses and raced towards the breaking gate. He unsheathed his sword made of dragon glass, the only material that could really hurt the Night King. He rushed through the gate, paying no attention to the White Walkers attacking him. His soldiers will take care of them. He needed to find him, find the cause of all this suffering, the leader of terror. Looking over the basements, the towers, the windows, he finally spotted him on a watchtower directed to Winterfell, pushing his armies against the waves of attacks. Tonga fell silent like a Wolf on the hunt, he steadied his breath, calming his heart beat. The Night King was distracted, he needed to take advantage of it as long as his friends kept him busy. Slowly he approached from the back, step by step, sword raced, ready to yield the second the Night King moved or anything wanted to interrupt his plan. 

5 steps away, he could feel the radiating cold from him

4 steps away, he could see the unbroken resistance on the field below the walls

3 steps away, he could see the dragon like skin of the most hated enemy of the living

2 steps away, he could hear the grinding sound of the armor with every movement

1 step away… strike!

With precise accuracy Tonga wielded his sword over his head and with all his strength down into the back of the Night King. No scream, no resistance. In a blow of millions splinters of ice and the blink of an eye he was gone. A wave of ice cold air exploded over the battlefield, throwing the warriors of K32 to the ground and taking away all Generals and White Walkers. Unbelieving Tonga watched over the field, finally lightened by the first sunlight since three days. He met Jul’s gaze, she was smiling all over the face. They did it, once again, the living have triumphed. 

Relief overcame Tonga and while in the distance the sheering started, the exhaustion finally took over. He sacked down, with the back to the wall. This was one of the toughest fights they had, one of the most asking of him personally. Never had they all given so much, never fought so determined before. This was the reason why he was still here. Here in this little kingdom, still with TgL. They are not the biggest strategists, not the most powerful warriors, not the best organised. But they were friends, every single one of them and when it counted, they all stuck together and defended each other. There might be places in Westeros, where he could grow faster, learn more, have better fights, but there was no place in Westeros that could give him this feeling of being home.