Reborn as Jon Snow with God System

The Discovery Beyond the Wall**

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It had been one week and three days since I, one of Jon Snow's wood clones, had crossed the Wall and ventured deep into the frozen wilderness beyond. My fellow clones had scattered in different directions, exploring the vast expanse of land that stretched endlessly beneath the white sky. Our mission was to find anything that might be useful for Jon and find good land, to report on any new discoveries, and to observe the ever-harsh environment of the North. And so, we ran—pushing deeper and deeper into the cold heart of the land beyond the Wall.

The wildlings lived in small groups, each numbering at least fifty, their survival hinging on numbers. Life beyond the Wall was a merciless trial where the cold did not relent, not even for a second. Unlike Winterfell, where seasons shifted and life, though hard, was sustainable, the land beyond the Wall offered no such reprieve. It was a land locked in a perpetual state of winter, devoid of warmth or mercy.

In this icy wilderness, survival was the only rule, and the wildlings were true survivors. They fought not only against each other but against the very land itself. Without food, they starved. Without strength, they perished. Those who survived did so because they were strong enough to hunt, to fight, to kill. It was the ultimate law of the wild.

I had encountered many wildling groups during my exploration. Some were in desperate condition, barely holding on to life, while others thrived in numbers. I noticed that groups smaller than fifty members rarely survived for long—such was the brutality of the North. The wildlings were not the savages the people of the South believed them to be; they were warriors, each battle-scarred and hardened by the relentless cold.

And yet, despite their fierce will to live, they faced overwhelming odds. The forest itself was full of predators that made survival even harder. Wolves, direwolves, shadowcats, and even silver spiders haunted the wilderness. The direwolves, in particular, were beasts to be feared—massive, intelligent predators who thrived in the cold.

I had also encountered various types of bears—cave bears, snow bears, each more terrifying than the last. Though I had not yet seen them myself, I had heard stories of mammoths roaming these lands, often in the company of giants. The sight of a mammoth, a beast from legends, would be both awe-inspiring and terrifying.

Still, nothing could have prepared me for the sheer harshness of the environment. The land was an endless stretch of snow-covered plains, trees cloaked in frost, and bitter winds that cut like knives. The deeper I ventured, the more isolated I felt. The white world stretched endlessly, unchanging, as if it had been frozen in time itself.

I had covered more than a thousand kilometers since crossing the Wall, tirelessly running and searching for anything of note. With each step, I grew more accustomed to the icy landscape. I was driven by Jon's determination to explore, to understand what lay beyond the Wall. This world was alien to him, a far cry from the life he knew in Winterfell.

Then, on the tenth day of my journey, I saw it—a plume of smoke rising in the distance. I sped toward the smoke, weaving through snow-covered trees and icy ridges, until I found the source.

It was a camp. But not just any camp.

Giants.

I halted in awe, staring at the massive figures that towered over the campfires. There were at least seventy of them, their huge forms wrapped in thick furs to stave off the cold. These were not the mythological creatures of stories; they were real, and they were here in numbers far greater than I had ever imagined.

Among the giants were twelve mammoths, their massive forms lumbering through the snow, their breath visible in the freezing air. The mammoths, with their long, curved tusks, were like creatures from another age, and they moved with slow, deliberate power.

The sight before me was stunning, yet I couldn't help but wonder—where had these giants been during the events I had seen in *Game of Thrones*? I recalled the show vividly: during the battle at the Wall, Mance Rayder's army had included only a few giants, and they had used a single mammoth to try to break the Wall's gates. So what had happened to these giants? Had they all died in the years leading up to that battle? Or had the army of the dead claimed them, their once-immense power turned against the living?

My mind swirled with questions, but I knew I had to report this discovery to Jon. The knowledge of this giant camp could change everything. Jon would need to know about the numbers, the potential allies or threats that these giants could pose.

Without wasting time, I carefully placed a Flying Raijin mark—an ability I had learned during my time in the training dimension—near the camp. This mark would allow Jon to teleport here if needed, or for me to return in an instant.

Satisfied with my preparations, I deactivated the clone and returned to Jon's room in Winterfell. The familiar warmth of the castle greeted me, but my mind was still filled with the sight of those towering giants and their mammoths.

Jon would need to decide what to do with this knowledge. Would he seek to ally with the giants, or would he see them as a threat?

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The North was vast and cold, but in its heart, secrets waited to be uncovered—secrets that might change the fate of Westeros forever.