Giant Bear Slayer

Sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting mottled shadows over Garon.

He gripped his blood-stained longsword tightly, his chest heaving violently, his heavy, ragged breathing wheezing like a broken bellows.

At his feet, a massive black bear lay dead in a pool of thick blood.

Garon used all his remaining strength to yank the sword from the bear's neck, spraying bear blood across his own face.

But Garon had no mind to wipe it away; he turned his head to look at Joffrey, who was still reeling from the shock.

"Prince Joffrey, are you alright?"

Joffrey merely stood there, dazed, staring with vacant eyes at Garon, who stood bathed in blood like a demon god.

What surged within him was not the relief of having survived a brush with death.

It was a bone-deep terror of the man standing before him.

At this moment, the knights who had rushed over witnessed the scene and gasped in shock: "Garon... he killed this giant bear all by himself?"

"Giant Bear Slayer!" someone shouted first.

"Giant Bear Slayer!"

Immediately after, more shouts rose one after another.

The knights' voices trembled with excitement, echoing through the dappled shadows of the trees.

Following the commotion, others nearby who were hunting also gathered, and soon Robert arrived on the scene, carrying a spear.

"Seven hells!"

As the waves of noise subsided, Robert stared at Garon in shock, unable to believe it: "You killed this all by yourself?"

Garon's stamina was severely depleted, so he could only nod in response.

He swayed as he walked to the side, and the nearest knight quickly stepped in to support him under a tree.

Robert, his face full of disbelief, stepped forward to examine the giant bear at Garon's feet, not even noticing Joffrey, who was still trembling with fear.

"Seven hells..."

Robert touched the bear's body, feeling its damp, warm fur, and couldn't help but laugh in praise: "Haha, Giant Bear Slayer, a name well-earned!"

Then, he turned his head to ask: "Garon, how is your body? Are you injured?"

Garon shook his head, his voice hoarse: "Your Grace, I am fine. I just need a moment to rest."

"Prince Joffrey, however, has been severely shaken..."

Only then did Robert notice his terrified son, turning his head to call out softly: "Joffrey?"

Joffrey then looked at Robert, trembling and teary-eyed: "I... I..."

Seeing him in such a state of terror, lacking any semblance of a prince or a warrior, Robert couldn't help but feel disappointed.

But seeing his tear-filled eyes, Robert felt a pang of pity and stepped forward to comfort him for a moment.

Once Joffrey's emotions had stabilized slightly, Robert ordered the others to take Joffrey back to the camp first.

"Someone, find a way to transport this giant bear back to camp as well!"

"I want everyone to see Garon's trophy!"

At Robert's command, the Baratheon house knights began racking their brains on how to move the giant bear.

Because the bear was so massive and heavy, and the Baratheon knights were afraid that dragging it would damage its fur, they decided otherwise.

They called for more horses and used thirty or forty ropes to weave a giant net, which they secured around the bear's body.

Then, they used the horses to haul it back to the camp bit by bit.

At this time, Ned, having received word from Jon, also arrived in a hurry with his men.

Looking at the giant bear, which resembled a small hill, Ned was also struck with shock.

"Robert, did you kill this giant bear?"

In his urgency, he addressed the King by his name: "Are you hurt?"

Robert pointed at Garon and shook his head: "I wasn't lucky enough to encounter the bear; Garon killed this beast!"

"Garon?" Ned was even more shocked.

Subconsciously, he cast his gaze upon the blood-covered Garon.

"It was a matter of necessity!"

Garon's strength had recovered slightly; he pulled away from those supporting him and gave a bitter smile.

"At the time, Prince Joffrey was in mortal danger. If I hadn't stepped forward to attack, the Prince likely would have lost his life!"

"I was fortunate to use the terrain to my advantage and managed to slay it."

Garon briefly recounted what had just happened, and only then did Robert and Ned realize how perilous the situation had been.

"It is only a pity that all of Prince Joffrey's guards lost their lives!"

Robert followed Garon's gaze toward the knight who had been reduced to a pulp of flesh not far away, and he couldn't help but shake his head.

"When I return, I must reward their families handsomely!"

Just then, a knight approached, leading several spare horses.

After exchanging a few words with Robert, Ned took Garon and rode back to the camp.

Along the way, more and more people learned of the feat that Garon had hunted a giant bear single-handedly.

By the time they returned to the camp, almost everyone was craning their necks in anticipation.

"Giant Bear Slayer!"

When Garon appeared in the camp covered in blood and gore, even the attendants and cooks were shouting this title.

Ned watched all of this with a smile, and only when the noise subsided did he order someone to help Garon down from his horse.

He had Garon brought to a long table laden with food and wine, and ordered someone to bring a warm, damp towel, which Garon took to wipe the blood from his face.

"Garon, you have done a great deed!"

Garon wiped his face haphazardly and laughed heartily: "It was pure luck!"

Reflecting on it now, he couldn't help but feel a lingering fear.

If the giant bear hadn't happened to crash into a tree, he wouldn't have been able to adapt on the fly; in the end, he would have either been exhausted to death by the beast, or the bear would have abandoned him to maul Joffrey.

If Joffrey had been swatted to death by the bear, he wouldn't have known how to face Robert and the Queen.

Thinking of this, Ned patted Garon on the shoulder and said gratefully: "Thanks to you, otherwise I truly wouldn't know how to face Robert!"

Garon laughed: "Lord Ned, we are all family, no need for such formalities!"

Ned let out two hearty laughs: "Indeed, we are all family!"

"By the way, there is something I would like to ask of you!"

Once the laughter died down, Ned thought of the suggestion Maester Luwin had made the previous night and got straight to the point.

"Garon, you know I am about to head south to King's Landing, and several of my children will be coming with me, but Jon cannot go."

Ned's expression turned slightly serious: "He is a bastard; there is no place for him in King's Landing."

"So, I would like him to become your squire!"

"Garon, what do you think?"

Garon looked stunned. Seeing his reaction, Ned thought he was unwilling, so he added: "I noticed you and Jon have been getting along quite well lately, which is why..."

But before he could finish his sentence, Garon interrupted him with a smile.

"Lord Ned, to tell you the truth, I have had this intention for a long time!"

"A few days ago, when I was chatting with Jon, I invited him to visit Deepwood Motte."

"It's just that Jon was concerned about your thoughts and kept hesitating to agree. I had originally intended to find an opportunity to speak with you, my lord, but I didn't expect..."

Ned was taken aback, then smiled: "So, you agree?"

Garon nodded solemnly: "Of course!"

Ned was immediately overjoyed.

"That is wonderful. I will speak with Jon later..."

Just as Ned was about to say something more, a rider arrived at the hunting camp at full gallop from Winterfell.

"Lord Ned, Lady Catelyn asks that you return immediately!"

"Bran... Bran has fallen from a high wall, and his life hangs in the balance!"

"What!"

Ned was instantly struck with shock and rage. His entire body trembled, his face filled with disbelief.

In an instant, he snatched the reins of a horse and galloped rapidly toward Winterfell.