White Wolf Returns Home

Theon, having been outmaneuvered by Jon, was in complete turmoil and had no mind left for making trouble.

All he wanted now was to ask Robb for permission to return to the Iron Islands, raise a fleet to prove himself, and confirm whether he still retained his inheritance.

Before long, Jon and the others caught sight of the market towns lining both sides of the main road.

Winterfell was certainly not a lone castle standing in isolation like it had been in the show.

Four or five small market towns and dozens of trading posts lay scattered around it.

After all, this was Stark land, directly governed by House Stark, where public order and safety were assured.

Naturally, settlements had sprung up around it.

When they returned to Winterfell, Robb had already come out to greet them. At his side stood a majestic direwolf—Grey Wind.

Grey Wind and Ghost studied each other for a moment, then began sniffing one another's scent.

The moment Jon and Robb met, Robb stepped forward and pulled him into a powerful embrace.

With a solemn expression, Jon said, "We have to rescue Father and our sisters!"

Robb nodded just as seriously. "We will!"

Seeing how close the two of them were only made Theon feel worse.

At the same time, his thoughts became increasingly chaotic. He realized that he was nearly twenty, and perhaps it was time to return to the Iron Islands and inherit his title and lands.

Maester Luwin had also come to welcome the bastard returning from the Wall.

For some reason, he felt that Jon had changed tremendously.

The old Jon had seemed as though he had wrapped himself in solid ice.

He had been unwilling to get close to others, nor had he wanted anyone close to him.

But now, he seemed more like a flame.

There was far more confidence in his bearing as well.

Jon bowed to Maester Luwin, and the group continued onward.

As Jon and Robb walked back, Robb told him about the plan ahead.

"I've summoned all of House Stark's bannermen. In two months, three at most, the entire army of the North will gather at Winterfell.

"Then we'll march south together, rescue Sansa and Arya, and save Father!"

"Good!" Jon nodded in agreement. Naturally, he had plans of his own as well.

For instance, during these next three months or so, he would see whether he could raise his Swordsmanship to purple.

Furthermore, while waiting for the northern army to assemble, he would gain three upgrade points.

When the time came, whether he used them on command strategy or personal combat ability, they would produce remarkable results.

Before long, the two arrived at Robb's room, where a map hung beside his bed.

"Jon, I think the Lannister army will definitely surround Riverrun next.

"I've decided that once the northern army assembles, we'll detach most of our cavalry and launch a direct surprise attack.

"Only that way can we relieve Riverrun as quickly as possible."

The moment military matters came up, Robb visibly grew excited.

Jon knew that what he was describing was the prototype of the Battle of the Whispering Wood.

But there was still one crucial link Robb had not considered: how to pass through the Twins, which guarded a vital route.

That was House Frey's territory—the very house that would later launch the Red Wedding.

Just as the two were deep in discussion, a figure over two meters tall passed by the window.

"Jon!" Hodor carried Bran into Robb's study.

Jon turned and saw Hodor cradling a chestnut-haired little boy in his arms.

A gray direwolf followed behind them. Bran called it Summer.

"Bran." Jon walked over and gently touched Bran's legs. "Does it still hurt?"

Bran shook his head. "I can't feel anything."

Jon's heart sank. It looked like the fall had severed his nerves outright.

With his nerves severed, at this world's level of medicine, Bran would remain this way forever unless a miracle occurred.

Seeing Bran reminded Jon of the Greenseer.

He had no idea whether that mysterious being was friend or foe.

If I killed him, would I gain that ability to enter other people's dreams?

He temporarily put the matter out of his mind.

Later, Rickon also came to see Jon with his "Shaggydog."

Jon's return to Winterfell did not cause much of a stir.

Robb personally explained that Jon had not formally joined the Night's Watch yet.

Moreover, his motive for rescuing Eddard had won the approval of most people.

After all, the people of Westeros were not that rigid.

The Wall was full of criminals now.

The Night's Watch might be called the Night's Watch, but one more Jon made no difference, and one less Jon made no difference either.

Besides, if he returned two years later, would the Wall collapse?

Thus, over the following period, Jon devoted most of his energy to improving his martial skills and training his Skinchanging ability.

He borrowed two untrained ravens from Maester Luwin.

He claimed that he had learned a special method for training ravens at the Wall, and that perhaps he could use them to keep in contact with Robb in time.

More than two months passed quickly. Armies from all across the North gathered around Winterfell like dark clouds.

A layer of frost had fallen over the past two days in particular, making the black military camps stand out sharply against the milky-white earth.

Banners from every house fluttered in the wind.

It was not only great lords such as counts who had come.

Viscounts, barons, and even knights had their own banners and heraldry as well.

As far as the eye could see, the flags formed a riot of color.

Bran and Maester Luwin stood atop the walls, looking down at the steadily gathering army below.

"How many knights came this time?" Bran asked.

"More than three hundred, I'd say."

"That's so few."

"Becoming a knight is very difficult. But there should be three or four thousand cavalry."

Luwin watched the army continuously gathering below, yet he did not feel at ease.

An assembled army brought not only strength, but countless troubles as well.

Each of these lords had schemes of his own.

Some wanted to gain more benefits by presenting gifts.

Others intended to interfere with Robb's marriage, hoping to wed their daughters to him.

And, of course, there were even more disputes between the houses themselves.

They fought over better places to set up camp, all wanting to be closer to Winterfell.

Luwin knew they were testing Robb.

They wanted to see whether this young commander was strong enough, whether he was worth submitting to.

Of course, the most troublesome of all was Roose Bolton, the lord of the Dreadfort.

He had even demanded command of the entire northern army from Robb!

Although Robb had rejected each of their demands, that had not made them obedient.

More provocations and tests were still brewing in the shadows.

Luwin suddenly looked toward Jon's quarters. The night before, Robb had suggested sending Jon to help mediate the disputes among the lords.

But in Luwin's opinion, a bastard simply did not carry enough weight.

Jon did not know what Robb intended, but during this time, he had already achieved results he was relatively satisfied with.

Jon looked at his current trait panel. The [Swordsmanship] trait had completely turned deep purple.

[Swordsmanship—Chopping, thrusting, and slashing are merely the most basic movements of Swordsmanship, but concentrated force can pierce stubborn stone. True power lies within!]

Jon had originally thought that it would take at least three months to turn Swordsmanship completely purple.

But as the various northern lords arrived, he had gained more opportunities to spar. Unexpectedly, it had turned purple after only two months.

That meant he could be considered a first-rate swordsman anywhere.

Moreover, Jon still held three upgrade opportunities in his hands.

At any time, he could rise from a first-rate swordsman to a top-tier, even legendary, swordsman.

Jon was very curious what the next color would be.

But he held himself back.

He still did not know what role he would play in the coming war.

If he led troops, what kind of soldiers would he command?

Or would Robb keep him at his side as a guard?

At that thought, Jon suddenly smiled.

His starting point was truly a little too low. Leaving aside his status as a bastard, he did not have a single soldier under his command.

Without an army in his hands, all his plans would be nothing but empty talk.

But as long as he performed well in the coming war, there would be plenty of opportunities. He was not in a hurry.

Just then, someone knocked on his door—Theon had come.