Ambition

Accompanied by Jon, Garon spent the entire afternoon wandering around Winterfell.

The two were similar in age, and their temperaments and dispositions were well-matched.

Getting along with each other was, naturally, very harmonious.

In particular, both Jon and Garon were detested by Catelyn.

This shared experience quickly brought the two closer together.

Under Garon's skillful social maneuvering, Jon was practically ready to treat Garon as his closest confidant.

By the time evening approached, Jon finally opened his heart to Garon, speaking of the confusion buried deep within him.

At the bell tower.

The two stood side by side in front of the bronze bell, gazing out at the sunset at the end of the long summer.

Jon's expression was lost as he said softly, "Garon, the truth is, my future has always been a blur to me."

"I cannot inherit Winterfell like Robb, nor can I become a vassal to Robb like Bran, fighting for him."

"I am merely a bastard!"

"Perhaps my final destination, just as Theon said, will be to join the Night's Watch."

Garon's eyes shifted slightly, and he shook his head. "Jon, you are overthinking things!"

"Does being a bastard mean one cannot achieve great things?"

Jon Snow looked dejected, whispering as if to deny himself, "A bastard will only be met with the mockery and ridicule of the world; how could one possibly achieve anything?"

Seeing him so despondent, Garon did not offer immediate comfort, but instead asked him another question.

"Do you know of House Justman?"

Jon Snow shook his head in confusion, indicating he did not.

"House Justman was once the King of the Trident, ruling The Riverlands for over two hundred years. The founder of their house, Benedict Rivers, was a bastard."

"The fearless Benedict spent over thirty years eliminating the various powers, great and small, in The Riverlands before finally being crowned king."

"Jon, do you know what this signifies?"

Garon's heart began to surge with excitement, and even his voice became impassioned.

He turned his head to look at Jon, his fiery gaze surging with a suffocating magnetism that held Jon's attention firmly in place.

Without waiting for Jon's reply, Garon spoke his own thoughts aloud.

"A humble origin is not a disgrace!"

"To be able to bend and to stretch—that is what makes a hero!"

Jon looked at Garon, whose spirit was striking and whose red eyes burned like flames, and his mind was shaken to its core.

The words he had just heard seemed to contain a supreme magic, making him repeat them involuntarily.

"A humble origin is not a disgrace. To be able to bend and to stretch—that is what makes a hero?"

Garon nodded, his eyes fixed on the setting sun, filled with ambition.

That was right.

He came from Deepwood Motte, with no money, no men, no reputation, and no cheat codes.

To try and seize the Iron Throne with only two thousand soldiers from the Wolfswood was nothing more than a pipe dream.

With that few men, he couldn't even take The North.

But so what?

Human effort can overcome anything!

Even if he had everything, wouldn't other problems arise regardless?

Garon held the knowledge of the world's future trajectory and understood the true face of everyone in this game of thrones; his advantage was already greater than anyone else's.

If he still couldn't take the Iron Throne...

Then that would only prove he was nothing more than another Joffrey.

Hearing these words, Jon's previously withered heart felt as if it had been reignited by a flame.

He asked Garon eagerly, "What should I do?"

Garon smiled slightly. "Set a goal, and then go achieve it!"

"It's that simple?"

"It's that simple!"

Garon patted Jon on the shoulder, guiding him through his confusion with the air of a life mentor.

"Jon, do not worry about whether the goal is absurd or whether you will succeed."

"All you must do is constantly push yourself closer to that goal!"

"Even if you fail, at least it proves you tried, doesn't it?"

Garon downed a bowl of chicken soup, making the perpetually gloomy Jon Snow feel as if he had been reborn.

"But how am I supposed to determine my goal?"

Garon pointed to his chest and laughed, "That is something you must ask yourself."

"On the road to achieving your goals, others can do anything for you."

"But the initial act of setting your ambition is something no one can help you with."

Garon gazed at Jon's thoughtful expression, a sense of pleasure welling up within him.

I finally understand why some people in my past life loved to play the mentor.

It turns out this feeling is truly satisfying.

From the very beginning, Garon had harbored ulterior motives regarding Jon Snow.

Garon's foundations were too shallow; if he wanted to contend for the Iron Throne, he had to use every ounce of his strength to expand his influence.

And talent, above all else, was the most critical priority.

Looking at the entirety of Game of Thrones, Jon Snow, as the protagonist, was undoubtedly a top-tier talent.

From joining the Night's Watch to growing into the Lord Commander, his adventures along the way fully proved his intelligence and capability.

Although he was occasionally prone to acting on emotion, it was ultimately of no great consequence.

With such talent, how could Garon bear to let him join the Night's Watch and waste his time in vain?

At this moment, Jon stared blankly at the afterglow of the setting sun.

He was entirely lost in thought over Garon's words, muttering to himself, "I must first determine my goal, but what is my goal..."

Garon stood to the side with a smile, not interrupting his contemplation.

He was also focusing his mind on how to handle the invitation to the Godswood that evening.

Time passed bit by bit.

When the last trace of sunlight vanished and the sky turned a deep blue, footsteps echoed on the stone stairs of the bell tower.

A servant saw Garon and Jon standing there and let out a sigh of relief.

He said respectfully, "Lord Garon, Lord Ned invites you to join him for dinner."

Garon nodded and replied, "I understand, I'll be there right away."

The servant acknowledged the order and withdrew.

Garon clapped his hands, rousing Jon from his thoughts: "It's time for dinner, let's head back."

"As for setting your ambition, don't rush it."

"Sometimes, the search for one's ambition is itself a form of exploration of life."

Jon looked somewhat bewildered; he did not yet fully grasp the meaning behind Garon's words.

Garon smiled and offered no further explanation.

He turned and patted Jon on the shoulder, walking past him down the stone steps, "Let's go, Lord Ned is waiting for us!"

Jon gave a soft "hm," composed himself, and followed quickly behind.

By the time the two arrived at the Great Hall, Winterfell had already lit its candles.

"Lord Ned, Lady Catelyn!"

As soon as Garon entered the hall, he acted as if nothing had happened during the day, bowing politely to the couple.

Ned, sitting at the head of the table, waited for him to rise and smiled, "We are all family, there is no need for such formalities."

"Take your seat!"

Garon accepted with a smile.

He met Catelyn's unfriendly gaze and sat down next to Bran.

As for Jon, he sat at the end of the long table with Theon.

When Garon sat down, Sansa stole a glance at him, only to have her eyes meet his directly.

She immediately looked away like a startled fawn.

Garon gave a knowing smile, which only made Catelyn, who witnessed the scene, even angrier.

She had guarded against everything, yet she never expected her own daughter to be the first to defect.

Catelyn glared indignantly at Sansa.

However, this was noticed by Arya, who was sitting next to Sansa; she assumed her mother was angry because she had snuck away from her needlework lesson earlier that day.

Arya couldn't help but shrink back in fear.

As for Sansa, she was still immersed in her previous shyness and didn't notice Catelyn's expression at all.

And so, Garon's first dinner at Winterfell began amidst a peculiar atmosphere.

Dinner at Winterfell was unremarkable, consisting only of meat pies and vegetable salad.

Since Ned Stark did not initiate any conversation, everyone present finished the meal in silence, each occupied by their own thoughts.

When dinner concluded.

Ned rose to leave, intending to give the remaining time to the children.

He especially wanted Garon and Sansa to get to know each other better.

As he was leaving, Ned smiled and offered a final reminder.

"Don't stay up too late; there are things to do tomorrow."

The other Starks nodded in succession.

At this moment, Garon called out to stop Ned, requesting, "Lord Ned, I would like to go to the Godswood to pray before I sleep later."

Ned was slightly surprised, but thinking it might be a custom from Deepwood Motte, he agreed.

"Very well, I will instruct the guards to let you through."

Seeing that Garon had no other requests, he then took Catelyn and left.

The events of the day had already reached Ned's ears, and he intended to have a thorough discussion with Catelyn in the privacy of their bedchamber.