Earning Respect

That deserter...

No.

He wasn't a deserter.

The thought flashed through Robb Stark's mind.

A deserter wouldn't have eyes like that!

He was a true warrior!

Theon was equally dumbfounded.

He hadn't counted Lynn at all, assuming each of them would have to kill two men to win, but Lynn had surpassed his "quota" in no time.

Lynn's chest heaved as he gasped for breath.

But his sword hand remained steady!

A bandit leader with a thick, bristling beard broke the brief, deathly silence with a bestial roar.

"What the fuck are you all afraid of?"

"They're on horseback! We can't outrun them, so we might as well fight!"

"Get them! Take a few down with us!"

Fear gave way to a more primal savagery, and the remaining bandits raised their voices again.

Some of them had noticed it, too.

The man in black seemed more dangerous, a tough opponent, but the relentless killing had nearly pushed him to his limit.

Two men could surround him. No matter how strong he was, he wouldn't last long against attacks from multiple sides.

Robb had seen what the bandits intended. He roared and tried to lead two men toward Lynn.

"Stop them!"

Seeing Robb give orders, another group of bandits immediately realized who led the party.

They changed direction and recklessly attacked Robb and the others from the flank, forcing him to engage them.

Lynn's gaze sharpened.

So they'd noticed him after all.

Of course.

After killing three men in quick succession, it would've been hard not to attract attention.

Lynn backed against a thick pine tree.

That left him with only enemies in front and to either side to worry about.

He hadn't forgotten how even someone as formidable as the Sword of the Morning had taken a blade to the back of the neck.

Fighting several opponents at once was difficult with his current abilities.

Robb and the others drew most of the bandits' attention, greatly easing the pressure on Lynn.

One bandit charged first, his long-handled axe whistling through the air as it came down toward Lynn's head.

Lynn didn't try to meet it head-on.

He slid sideways, keeping close to the trunk, and narrowly avoided the axe blade.

Wood chips flew.

The axe buried itself deep in the trunk.

There was his opening!

Lynn turned his wrist, sweeping his longsword upward.

Thwip!

The sword tip cleanly sliced open the bandit's unprotected throat.

Blood gushed out, leaving a shocking streak of red across the pale gray trunk.

[Bandit killed x1, experience +1]

Before the corpse could fall, another bandit's curved blade swept toward Lynn's waist and belly.

Lynn twisted and raised his sword to block.

Clang!

Steel rang against steel, scattering sparks.

Just as he parried, another bandit suddenly lunged at him from the side.

The man had no proper weapon, only a sharpened stick, but he thrust it viciously beneath Lynn's ribs.

There was nowhere to retreat.

At that critical instant-

Whoosh!

An arrow flew out of the melee and drove squarely into the stick-wielding bandit's eye socket.

His scream cut off abruptly.

His body stiffened for a moment, then collapsed limply.

Lynn's attention had been drawn to the ambusher, and the bandit whose curved blade he'd blocked raised it again with a savage grin.

Lynn could react mentally, but his body couldn't keep pace. Fighting multiple opponents on a battlefield meant the situation changed in an instant, and everything had happened too suddenly.

The blade flashed. Lynn tried his best to evade it, but only managed to turn sideways.

A tearing pain ripped through his left shoulder.

His clothing split, flesh peeled open, and blood instantly stained half his body red.

Lynn grunted and staggered.

The agony seared his nerves, but it didn't rob him of his reason.

Instead, it roused the savagery in his bones.

Rather than retreat, he used the momentum of his stumble to lunge forward.

He slammed his shoulder hard into the bandit's chest.

The bandit hadn't expected him to dare do that after being wounded.

Caught off guard, he staggered back several steps.

Lynn's sword moved.

A simple, direct upward slash.

Rip!

With no armor to stop it, the blade cut across the bandit's lower belly and continued upward, splitting open his chest.

Entrails spilled onto the ground in a flood of blood.

The savage grin froze on the bandit's face. He looked down at his emptied abdomen, his eyes filled with disbelief and despair.

[Bandit killed x1, experience +1]

Now that he was wounded, Lynn stopped pushing himself and headed toward the edge of the battlefield.

"Raaah!"

Robb Stark's furious roar rang out.

The young Robb was lost in a killing frenzy.

He had fully unleashed the direwolf blood within him.

He no longer confined himself to the swordsmanship his master-at-arms had taught him.

Young as he was, every slash brimmed with power.

His sweeping, forceful strokes carried the wild ferocity unique to the North.

He severed one bandit's arm with a single blow, sending the man screaming to the ground.

Another fell beneath his sword, shield and all.

Twenty men were no small number, but they weren't an overwhelming force, either.

With Lynn and Robb's sudden onslaught, the battle rapidly began to turn.

The bandit leader watched, his eyes bulging with fury.

He abandoned his struggle with the Stark guards and made to flee.

But in doing so, he ran straight into Lynn, who was also trying to work his way out.

Seeing Lynn's injury, the leader roared and charged at him, brandishing a bloodstained two-handed axe.

Even before he reached Lynn, the overpowering stench of blood and sweat hit him.

The axe blade whipped up a fierce gust as it crashed down.

Lynn didn't dodge.

He was exhausted. No matter how he tried to evade it, he couldn't get clear of the long weapon's reach.

He bent his knees slightly, lowered his center of gravity, and held his longsword across his body.

Clang!

A tremendous crash rang out.

Lynn blocked with the thickest part of his blade, deflecting the lethal axe blow to one side.

The tremendous impact sent violent tremors through both his arms.

The wound in his shoulder tore open again, and pain darkened his vision.

A flicker of surprise crossed the bandit leader's eyes, then turned to cruelty.

He bore down on the axe, intent on crushing this stubborn opponent completely.

But Lynn had achieved his aim.

That block had bought him a chance to get close.

Lynn abruptly released his left hand from the sword and twisted to the right.

His right elbow slammed into the bandit leader's ribs like a cannonball.

Crack!

The sharp sound of breaking bone rang out.

The bandit leader gave a pained grunt, his massive body momentarily freezing in agony.

At the same time, Robb caught up, unwilling to let the leader escape, and thrust his longsword forward.

Shunk!

The longsword plunged in to the hilt, piercing straight through the bandit leader's chest.

Afraid Robb would steal his kill, Lynn hurriedly picked up his longsword from the ground and drove it into the bandit's eye socket.

[Bandit leader killed x1, experience +2]

The vicious gleam in the bandit leader's eyes rapidly faded.

Lynn wrenched his sword free.

The towering bandit went utterly lifeless.

Two experience points?

So the stronger the opponent, the more experience I get. Still, he couldn't have been all that strong, or he would've given me more than two.

Then how much experience would I get for killing someone as strong as Jaime, or a wight, a White Walker, even the Night's King?

Of course, I could also slaughter civilians in large numbers to gain experience.

But if I really did that without powerful connections or someone to shield me, there probably wouldn't be anywhere in Westeros I could stay.

With their leader dead, the few remaining bandits broke completely.

They dropped their weapons and scattered, crying as they fled.

The Stark guards' blades and Theon's deadly arrows awaited them.

The battle was over.

Silence returned to the woods.

Only the crackle of the campfire and the wounded guards' groans remained.

Leaning against the scarred pine, Lynn slowly slid to the ground.

The longsword in his hand fell into the snow with a clatter.

His entire body trembled.

Not from fear, but exhaustion.

His shoulder was still bleeding, and the ribs battered by the impact throbbed with piercing pain.

Every breath tugged at his injuries, nearly making him pass out.

His vision began to blur.

A pair of boots caked with mud and snow stopped before him.

Lynn raised his head with difficulty.

It was Robb Stark.

The young Young Wolf's face still bore the ferocity of battle, but his blue eyes held a complicated mix of emotions.

Shock, confusion, and a trace of... respect.

"You..."

Robb opened his mouth, but didn't know what to say.

He looked at the bodies around Lynn, then at Lynn's horrific wound.

At that moment, any words would have felt inadequate.

"Hollen!"

Robb turned and shouted at a guard.

"Get over here! Bandage him!"

Theon Greyjoy came over, too.

He put away his longbow and crouched down.

Looking at the wound on Lynn's shoulder, so deep it exposed bone, he showed none of his earlier mockery.

With his wounds and blood, Lynn had earned Robb and Theon's recognition.

In his field of vision, the blue panel only he could see floated silently.

[Experience: 7]