It was well known that the three-eyed crow was the eyes of the Greenseer—his avatar in the world.
Its appearance almost always meant that the Seer was watching.
Just as Kael was about to seek out the Night King to offer his services as a military advisor, the three-eyed crow appeared. What did that mean? Kael couldn't be sure.
But one thing was certain: he had caught the attention of the Seer. The crow wasn't here by chance—it had come for him. After all, wasn't that how Bran had been led to the Seer's lair?
The flock of crows noticed Kael's gaze. They stopped circling the sky and flew off in unison, heading in a specific direction. One crow lingered behind, perching on a jagged rock, its three pitch-black eyes locked onto Kael.
Go? Or not?
That was the question.
Kael hesitated. Based on what he knew of the Seer, the old man never acted without purpose—he certainly wouldn't have a special fondness for a lowly skeleton soldier.
If he sent the three-eyed crow, it had to be important.
The Seer had always been Kael's first choice—if he could even be found. And even then, Kael had worried that the Seer might destroy him on sight.
But this changed things.
If the Seer had sent the crow himself, then surely he wouldn't go through all that effort just to trick Kael into a trap. That would be meaningless.
Resolved, Kael stopped hesitating. He turned and followed the direction the crows had taken.
Across the vast, snowy plains, a dark silhouette trudged onward. A flock of crows flew ahead to guide him. A closer look revealed that the black figure was a skeleton. The scene was strange, to say the least.
Kael had already been walking for seven or eight days.
Without rest, day and night, he pressed forward tirelessly. That was one benefit of this skeletal body—it didn't need food, sleep, or even rest. As long as the link to the Night King remained, he could march on forever.
But there was one thing that frustrated him deeply: his speed.
As a skeleton soldier, his movements were naturally awkward and shaky. Add to that the snow-covered terrain, where he constantly stumbled and slipped into crevasses, and his progress was painfully slow.
And so, the journey dragged on for seven days and nights.
On this day, the weather suddenly improved. The sun, hidden behind thick fog for days, finally peeked through the clouds.
The three-eyed crow perched lazily on a nearby cliff, preening its feathers with its beak. In the sunlight, its otherwise black plumage shimmered with an iridescent sheen.
Kael trudged after the crow, grumbling to himself.
"When is this going to end? So damn far… If I'd known it was this far, I wouldn't have come. What a pain."
Still, complaints aside, Kael had no choice but to continue. His survival was at stake. The Seer was his best bet—assuming he wasn't hostile.
After climbing a nearby ridge, the land suddenly opened up before him. In a hollow of the hill stood a massive weirwood tree.
Kael nearly cried at the sight. "Finally…"
The tree was colossal, its red leaves like fiery autumn maples. It stood against a steep mountainside, which shielded it from harsh winds and freezing cold. The tree itself was nearly as tall as the cliff, easily over a hundred meters high.
Its canopy stretched impressively wide, nearly eighty meters across, since no other trees competed for sunlight in the area.
It was far more awe-inspiring than anything shown in the television series.
The three-eyed crow didn't give Kael much time to marvel—it darted into the dense canopy and disappeared. At the base of the tree, thick roots twisted across the ground like a maze.
From behind one of the gnarled roots, a small green head popped out.
"Hey!" it called.
Kael turned to the voice. A small humanoid figure, barely 1.5 meters tall, with green skin and no clear gender, stood watching him.
A Child of the Forest, Kael assumed.
The creature tossed a stick at him. Kael caught it—just a regular piece of wood, like any old branch picked off the ground.
He had no idea why the Child had given it to him and looked up in confusion.
The creature explained, "Hold on to that if you want to get in. Otherwise, you'll end up as a pile of bones. Follow me."
Before Kael could say anything, the Child turned and vanished into the roots.
Realizing the stick had protective value, Kael quickly followed.
They entered the root maze, twisting and turning through the dark passageways until they reached an entrance.
Well, not a conventional entrance—just an area where the roots were so dense they formed a kind of wall. Only by following the Child could one pass through.
"Where is this? Why bring me here?" Kael asked.
He knew it had to be the Seer, but he wanted to extract as much information as he could from the Child.
"Our leader—the Greenseer—wants to see you," the Child replied.
Kael was pleased. That meant they were willing to talk.
"What does he want with me? I don't even know him."
The Child gave him a strange look, "Obviously, you're not a normal skeleton. You can speak, think, and…"
The Child suddenly fell silent and pursed its lips.
"Don't ask so much. The Greenseer will explain everything."
Kael sighed. Clearly, the Seer had silenced the Child mid-sentence. He knew the Seer liked to speak in riddles, like some mysterious old mystic.
Would his brain even be able to comprehend what the Seer said?
Then again, Kael figured he could always just keep asking questions if he didn't understand.
They walked for quite some time, the tunnel sloping downward. The Seer, it seemed, had buried himself deep underground.
After about fifteen minutes, they arrived at a small, open space where tree roots intertwined like a cage. Calling it a chamber was generous—just a space slightly wider than the narrow hallway they'd come through.
Suspended in the air by thick roots was a white-bearded old man, half his body wrapped in bark and branches, just like in the show.
The Seer was embedded in the wall of roots, suspended mid-air.
Kael stepped forward and examined him curiously. The Seer said nothing, eyes closed.
Still, Kael could feel it—this old man was watching him.
After a long silence, Kael broke it.
"Lord Greenseer, may I ask why you've summoned me? Aren't you afraid I'll reveal your location to the Night King?"
The Seer's eyes cracked open slightly, and his voice emerged, raspy and ancient.
"You won't do that."
"Oh? And why not? He's my king, after all. He's been looking for you for thousands of years. If I tell him where you are, don't you think he'd reward me?"
The Seer chuckled hoarsely. "You're just a low-level skeleton. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't promote you."
It was true. The Night King had no ability to evolve his skeleton soldiers.
That's why he went to such lengths to raise wildling infants, groom them, and pierce them with dragonglass—his method of creating powerful lieutenants.
If he could upgrade his minions directly, he would've done it long ago.
Kael remained silent, and the Seer continued.
"But I can."
What?
That caught Kael completely off guard. He had come here hoping the Seer might be able to sever his link to the Night King—so the Night King's death wouldn't drag him down too.
He never imagined the Seer had such power: the ability to evolve a skeleton. That had never been shown in the original story.
Suddenly, a thought struck Kael like lightning.
Wait a minute…
The Greenseer had shown this power once.
And it had nearly wiped out the Children of the Forest.
The Night King!