Defeating Thorne

Lynn stood in the center of the training yard. The air smelled of snow and horse dung, and a few ravens screeched from the castle walls.

This winter was especially cold.

Without warm moleskin gloves, a man could probably lose his fingers to frostbite.

Alliser Thorne was already waiting there, with more than twenty men of the Night's Watch behind him.

Resentment was written all over their faces.

"Today, we'll teach this deserter what discipline means."

Thorne's voice was particularly grating.

The men behind him nodded, gripping their assorted weapons tightly.

Lynn slowly drew his longsword, its blade gleaming coldly in the pale morning light.

Everything felt different after his skill upgrade.

Every swing and every step felt more precise and lethal.

"Who's first?"

Lynn extended his longsword, pointing it at the assembled men.

That dismissive gesture only fueled their fury.

A burly man with a thick beard stepped forward.

He held a two-handed battle-axe and had an exceptionally powerful build.

"Boy, I'll cut your head off and kick it around like a ball!"

The burly man charged at Lynn with a roar, his battle-axe carving a vicious arc through the air.

Lynn shifted slightly to the side.

The axe whistled past his shoulder, stirring up a fierce gust.

The next instant, Lynn's sword was already at the man's neck.

It all happened too quickly to follow.

Disbelief filled the burly man's eyes, and beads of sweat rolled down his forehead.

"Next."

Lynn withdrew his longsword, his tone as calm as ever.

The burly man slunk aside, his expression ugly.

The second challenger was a tall, thin man wielding a spear.

He tried to exploit his weapon's reach and keep his distance from Lynn.

But Lynn moved within his reach, each dodge perfectly timed as he gradually closed in.

When the spear thrust toward Lynn's chest, he sidestepped its point and simultaneously slashed at the shaft.

The wooden shaft snapped.

The tall, thin man was left holding half a broken spear.

He stared blankly at his weapon.

"I yield."

He dropped the broken spear and retreated with his head hanging.

The third, the fourth, the fifth...

Every challenger suffered a swift, decisive defeat.

After his skill upgrade, Lynn's swordsmanship had become even more refined.

He began overwhelming his opponents with technique.

Even the simplest sword moves became unpredictable in Lynn's hands.

The watching men went from mockery to shock, then from shock to fear.

Alliser Thorne's expression grew uglier by the moment.

"Damn it, how did he suddenly become this strong?"

"He wasn't like this last time."

Thorne muttered curses through gritted teeth.

After another challenger fell, a deathly silence settled over the courtyard.

Lynn stood amid a crowd of defeated men, while the others gripped their weapons but dared not step forward.

His breathing was only slightly quickened, as though he had merely finished his morning exercises.

"Anyone else?"

Lynn swept his gaze over the remaining men of the Night's Watch.

Everyone he looked at involuntarily took a step back.

Alliser Thorne drew a deep breath and finally stepped forward himself.

"It seems I'll have to teach you a lesson myself."

Thorne drew his own longsword, a finely crafted weapon.

Intricate patterns were engraved on the blade. It was clearly no ordinary sword.

"Ser Thorne, are you sure you want to do this?"

Tyrion's voice came from the courtyard entrance.

He approached with Jon and Arya, looking somewhat worried.

If Lynn was killed, the secrets Tyrion wanted to learn would be buried with him.

"This is an internal matter of the Night's Watch."

Thorne answered without turning his head.

"You have no right to interfere."

Tyrion frowned, but ultimately made no attempt to stop him.

The Night's Watch did have its own rules, and outsiders could hardly intervene.

Arya nervously clutched Benjen's sleeve.

"Uncle, will Lynn be in danger?"

Benjen shook his head.

"Thorne is a little stronger than the average man of the Night's Watch, and he's older, so he'll have more experience than Lynn. Overall, Lynn is at a disadvantage."

"But I don't think he'll be a match for Lynn."

Benjen recalled teaching Lynn archery.

He truly was a promising lad with exceptional aptitude!

Meanwhile, Thorne raised his longsword and assumed a textbook fighting stance.

He was Castle Black's master-at-arms, after all, and his ability surpassed that of the ordinary men.

"Boy, let me show you what real swordsmanship looks like!"

Thorne charged at Lynn, his sword strikes fierce and precise.

Every stroke targeted Lynn's vital points without mercy.

Lynn backed up a few steps and began taking the fight seriously.

Thorne was indeed formidable, his swordsmanship seasoned and ruthless. He lived up to his years in the Night's Watch.

But Lynn's skill had already reached the proficient level, and the sword moves he had mastered were every bit as skillful as Thorne's.

Their blades clashed repeatedly, ringing with the clear sound of metal striking metal.

Sparks flew, lighting their intent faces.

One minute...

Two minutes...

As time passed, Thorne grew increasingly alarmed!

He could even feel Lynn's swordsmanship improving throughout their duel, each move more refined than the last.

What the fuck kind of absurd aptitude was this?

Lynn could even imitate some of his own sword moves!

That ability to improve so rapidly during battle sent a chill through Thorne.

"That's impossible!"

Thorne's stamina was steadily draining, and so was Lynn's.

Thorne gritted his teeth and launched a furious assault.

But although Lynn was tired, he had already fully adapted to Thorne's rhythm.

As a child, Lynn had been bullied by his classmates.

It was his father who had taught him.

"When you're fighting someone, don't pay attention to how relaxed he looks."

"If you're tired, he's tired too. He might even be more tired than you!"

"You hurt? He hurts too, perhaps even worse!"

"Never let appearances fool you."

"Use every ounce of strength you have. Give it everything!"

"Only by persevering can you win!"

"If you give up halfway, people will walk all over you!"

From that day onward, no one had dared bully Lynn again.

Once worked up, Lynn was a mad dog. Either he beat the other person down, or he was beaten down himself.

Only one person could remain standing!

Lynn clenched his teeth and began putting more force into his blows, trading attacks head-on with Thorne.

From learning his opponent's moves to counterattacking, widening his advantage, and turning it into results...

Finally, after a clever parry, Lynn relaxed his body, panting heavily.

But the tip of his longsword was already pressed against Thorne's throat.

A deathly silence fell over the courtyard again.

Everyone stared at the scene with wide eyes.

Alliser Thorne, Castle Black's master-at-arms.

Had he actually lost to a "deserter"?

"Do you yield?"

Thorne's face flushed scarlet, veins bulging on his forehead.

But the sword point rested against his throat.

One slight push from Lynn would kill him on the spot.

"I... I yield."

Thorne forced the words through gritted teeth.

Lynn withdrew his longsword and turned to face all the men of the Night's Watch.

"Now, does anyone still have a problem?"

No one answered.

They all lowered their heads, afraid to meet Lynn's eyes.

The fight had thoroughly cowed them.

"Good."

Lynn nodded and sheathed his sword.

"From now on, if anyone has an objection, feel free to come to me."

With that, Lynn turned and left the training yard.

Lord Commander Mormont stood at a tower window, having witnessed everything.

"This young man..."

The Old Bear murmured to himself.

"Perhaps letting him leave Castle Black really is the best choice."

That afternoon, Mormont summoned Lynn.

The room was as plain as ever, with a roaring fire in the fireplace.

The raven still perched on the Old Bear's shoulder, studying Lynn with its beady black eyes.

"Sit."

Mormont gestured toward the chair opposite him.

Lynn sat down and waited for the Old Bear to speak.

"Your performance this morning was impressive."

Mormont began slowly.

"I haven't seen swordsmanship that fine in a long time."

"Thank you for your praise, Lord Commander."

Lynn answered modestly.

"But what interests me more is how quickly your abilities have improved."

Mormont's gaze sharpened.

"Not long ago, you were an ordinary man of the Night's Watch, and your swordsmanship was nothing remarkable-merely above average. Yet today, you defeated Thorne."

"That rate of improvement is rather unusual."

Lynn's heart skipped a beat, but his expression remained unchanged.

"Perhaps it's a gift from the Old Gods."

Mormont stared at Lynn for a long time before finally nodding.

"Whatever the reason, since you've managed to silence them, I'll honor my earlier promise."

Lynn waited for the Old Bear to continue.

Mormont rose and walked to the window.

"You may accompany Lord Stark to King's Landing."

"But you will still officially be a member of the Night's Watch."

"This is the best arrangement I can offer you."

Lynn felt a surge of delight.

"As you command, Lord Commander."

"However..."

Mormont turned around.

"Before you leave, I would like you to do something for us."

"What is it?"

"The Wildlings beyond the Wall have been growing increasingly active."

Mormont returned to the desk and spread out a map.

"I need you to lead some men and clear this area."

He pointed out several locations on the map.

"Wildling tracks have recently been found in all these places."

"With your current strength, you should be capable of handling this mission."

Lynn carefully studied the marked locations on the map.

None of those places were too far from the Wall, but there could be a considerable number of Wildlings.

Mormont sat down again.

"Still, I suggest you take more men. The Wildlings may be poorly equipped, but their fighting ability is not to be underestimated."

Lynn nodded.

This was precisely the opportunity he needed.

More Wildlings meant more experience points.

At the same time, the Old Bear's ancestral Valyrian one-handed sword was exactly what he urgently needed.

The longer he could stay here, the greater his chances of obtaining Longclaw.

Longclaw was a Valyrian steel sword enhanced with spells and magic. Originally, the Old Bear had given this ancestral blade to Jon in gratitude for saving his life.

I'll just have to say sorry to Jon.

"I need three days to prepare."

"Granted."

Mormont waved a hand.

"Go. I hope you return safely."