On the snow.
The figure wearing Robert Arryn's boyish face dropped heavily to his knees in the snow.
The eyes that had just been filled with fathomless darkness now held nothing but endless fear and bewilderment.
The Three-Eyed Raven, that ancient being who had lurked beneath the Weirwood roots for a thousand years and fancied himself the player moving the pieces of fate.
In the very first second of his rebirth, he had become a prisoner.
His soul was locked fast inside this undead shell by an irresistible, icy will.
He could feel it.
Every inch of his thoughts, every notion that crossed his mind, was under that young man's control.
With a single thought, the young man could have that tyrannical power grind his soul into pure nothingness.
He could not fathom it.
He could not understand.
How could he have misjudged him?
Why could Lynn create White Walkers?
Why did all his schemes, all his contingencies, seem so ridiculous, so... childish before this young man?
"Do you still think I'm stupid now?"
"My... new slave?"
[No... I wouldn't dare...]
A thought so abject it might have crawled through the dust echoed haltingly in Lynn's mind.
The voice was filled with utter terror.
[Master... I was wrong...]
Lynn paid no further attention to the old monster he had utterly broken.
The Three-Eyed Raven might possess other magical knowledge.
I'll wring all of it out of him in a moment.
Lynn stood quietly in the snow and sank his consciousness into the system panel.
A string of messages appeared before his eyes.
[Roose Bolton killed, House Bolton destroyed. Experience points awarded: 6234] [Current total experience points: 26217.2 + 6234 = 32451.2]
The long string of numbers stirred nothing in Lynn's heart. To him now, experience points were merely