A Boring Banquet

Winter Market, a certain red-light district.

"See you before dinner—I'm going to enjoy my appetizer first!"

"Dear brother, I suggest you come with me now. Our beautiful sister has had an extremely trying day, so don't go making her any angrier."

"What rotten luck. Little beauty, wait for me to come pamper you tonight. This silver stag is a deposit."

"I'll be waiting for you, Lord Tyrion!"

Having ruined his brother's fun, Jaime wore a mischievous grin as he led the disheveled, short-statured Tyrion out of a common house in the red-light district.

Tyrion, thoroughly annoyed, straightened his expensive clothes—woven from a blend of wool, silk, and linen—and asked Jaime, "Who got our beautiful sister so upset? That big fat stag who shares my tastes?"

"Hmm, he's one reason. On the other hand, I'd guess it was Robb Stark's polite and humble demeanor that really rubbed her the wrong way."

Jaime dropped his smile at the question, pondering the events of the earlier reception, and ventured a guess.

"Aha! That Young Wolf Lord I've heard about until my ears are sore the whole way here? So, the famous young man shows no arrogance at all, but is instead modest and courteous, making her think her own son is a waste?"

The quick-witted Tyrion blurted it out without a second thought.

"Could you put it more nicely? That's your own nephew."

Jaime frowned, displeased, raising his left eyebrow and glaring at Tyrion.

"Fine, fine. You always defend her. Hmph, I still remember how the two of you tormented me when we were kids. You cut a hole in my mattress, stuffed a fresh pile of sheep dung in there, sewed it back up, and made the bed. I kept smelling something foul for days and couldn't figure out where it was coming from!"

Tyrion nimbly hopped over a mud puddle on the road, speaking with irritation.

"Hahaha! I did tell you in the end, though!"

Hearing his brother bring up old memories, Jaime couldn't help but break into a bright smile.

At that moment, Jaime's face was handsome, his smile sunny—completely different from the demeanor he showed in front of Robert.

Perhaps he only revealed his true self in front of trusted family.

Hm?

Jaime's laughter cut off abruptly. He stopped walking and glanced back over his shoulder.

"What? Someone following us?"

Tyrion knew his brother well and instantly guessed the gist of it.

Jaime said nothing, just nodded at him.

"Come on! You're the youngest Kingsguard entering the city—it's only normal for them to keep an eye on you so you don't cause trouble."

Tyrion patted Jaime's rear carelessly and continued forward.

Jaime flashed a smile toward a rundown house behind them, then turned and followed.

After the two Lannister lions disappeared around the corner, Theon stepped out from behind the dilapidated building, his expression grim.

Robb watched with some boredom as Little Jon and Owen matched each other drink for drink at the long table, surrounded by a crowd of howling Wolf Guard members.

Well, after Theon's vigorous mediation, all the guardsmen had unanimously begged Robb to formally name them the Wolf Guard. Since it was a trivial matter, and Robb was happy to indulge his men, he nodded in agreement.

He turned his head to look at the VIP seats on the high dais of the banquet hall. Robert was still cheerfully dragging people into drinking contests. Robb had begun to admire the big-bellied king, who had somehow kept drinking from afternoon straight into evening.

Eddard and his wife, along with Cersei, sat nearby. The banquet hall seemed harmonious and warm, full of cheer.

And the person Robb was most interested in—Tyrion Lannister—was mingling effortlessly among the common soldiers, regaling them with all sorts of amusing tales.

Truth be told, Robb actually liked him. But at this moment, the two were on opposite sides, so Robb didn't approach to strike up a conversation.

Crunch! Crunch!

Blood Wind lay sprawled beside Robb, gnawing with all his might on a large pork leg bone.

As Robb's gaze fixed on him, the creature's current stats appeared.

[Name: Blood Wind, Contractor: Robb Stark] 
[Physique: 11, Speed: 10, Strength: 10] 
[Species: Warg Direwolf (6)] 
[Blood Contract Points: 1]

From the earlier hunt of the Wildlings, Robb had actually killed four enemies and Blood Wind three, earning 14 Blood Contract Points.

Right—enemies killed by Blood Wind also granted Robb Blood Contract Points.

Over the past ten-plus days, with daily training, Robb had only gained 4 Blood Contract Points from eating, bringing the total to 18.

When Blood Wind's Physique exceeded 10 points, Robb discovered that it now took 2 Blood Contract Points to increase a single attribute. So, to maximize efficiency, he evenly distributed the points between Speed and Strength.

Now, with balanced three-dimensional stats, Blood Wind's combat power was already terrifying.

Usually, Robb forced it to keep a low profile—it was his hidden trump card.

He had also proven that hunting ordinary animals yielded no Blood Contract Points. Hmm, he hadn't encountered any supernatural creatures yet, so he didn't know the specifics.

In truth, if Robb truly wanted to gain Blood Contract Points quickly, he could take Blood Wind to slaughter villages in other territories.

But what made a person human was their moral bottom line.

A normal person from Blue Star China would never kill indiscriminately for personal gain.

So in Robb's understanding, reaping Blood Contract Points from enemy lives—acceptable! Slaughtering innocent civilians—unacceptable!

Bored beyond endurance, Robb quietly rose and slipped out of the banquet hall. Fearing Blood Wind would be too conspicuous, he sent a mental command for it to continue happily gnawing on bones.

Hah!

Just as he stepped out of the banquet hall and took a deep breath, Robb saw his uncle Benjen Stark, lean and gray-eyed, speaking with Jon.

"Uncle!"

A smile spread across Robb's face as he stepped forward to greet him.

After a brief exchange, Benjen left the two of them and strode into the banquet hall.

Seizing the rare moment alone with Robb, Jon spoke first: "Robb, you've changed a lot lately."

"Heh, have I? Maybe it's the price of growing up."

Seeing that Jon had been observing him for so long and finally couldn't hold back, Robb chuckled in reply.

"You know what? I've noticed many of the Main Keep's guards and servants have become your wolf-guard men.

Robb... what you're doing is dangerous!"

Jon stared at Robb with a serious expression, then hesitated before continuing, "Father—if he finds out, he'll definitely stop you."

Robb didn't know exactly how much Jon knew, but the kid's instincts were sharp—he'd caught wind of some of Robb's covert moves.

Still, Jon definitely couldn't guess what I'm planning!

Shifting his thoughts, Robb spoke: "Jon, you know what? You're the child most like Father. Honest, brave, quiet."

He paused briefly, raised his right hand, and pointed into the pitch-black night before continuing, "But you're even better than him!

Go! Follow what's in your heart—don the black!

Your world isn't in this cramped Winterfell, but out beyond the Wall."

Jon listened quietly to Robb's words, then looked up, following his finger toward the north, as if seeing a bird fly free from its cage.

Robb went on: "What I want to do is just protect my family, protect Winterfell, protect the North—nothing more!"

Meeting Robb's sincere gaze, Jon nodded without saying more, his eyes burning with resolve.

Thanks to ClaudeS for the book's first monthly ticket—well, the system-gifted one doesn't count.

Thanks to "I Have a Plan to Tame the Uncanny" for the chapter comments on every chapter. When the trial promotion comes, I'll add extra chapters for you!

Finally, thanks to the readers who follow daily and throw recommendation tickets. A new book isn't easy—any support is precious. Thank you all!