Ned Stark had done well. It seemed he had completely wiped out the rebels from the Dreadfort.
Without its three thousand soldiers, the Dreadfort was an empty shell. Roose Bolton and Ramsay Bolton would no longer pose a potential threat.
Lynn felt little stirring in his heart. Everything had gone according to his calculations.
Ever since arriving in this world, he had known these people's personalities inside out.
After witnessing Robb's overwhelming victory and the rout of the Vale army, then fleeing the battlefield himself, that madman Ramsay Bolton would see only one way to survive: exploit the North's lack of defenses, seize Winterfell, and take hostages.
It was the inevitable choice for someone of his nature.
Lynn, meanwhile, had used his Faceless Men skill to create a Man-Faced Mask of Ned, then repeatedly shown his face during the march, especially in front of Littlefinger.
The real Ned Stark was the trap he had laid in Winterfell, waiting for Littlefinger to plunge straight into it.
But...
Something still felt wrong to Lynn.
He knew Ned's character very well.
Even with Lynn's repeated instructions, Ned's sense of honor should have led him to do no more than behead the Rebel Leader and imprison his accomplices.
More than nine thousand experience points meant nearly three thousand deaths.
Would Ned... really order the slaughter of three thousand soldiers of the North who had already surrendered?
A flicker of curiosity rose within Lynn.
Since his mental power had surpassed thirty-six points, he had yet to truly use Greensight.
This was the perfect opportunity to see what had actually happened in Winterfell.
And to see just how far Ned Stark, the Warden of the North, had grown under his influence.
"Wait here for me."
After giving Arya and Jon that instruction, Lynn walked alone into