Return to Winterfell

The biting wind dispersed some of the bloody stench in the woods.

The campfire still crackled, its light illuminating faces that had narrowly escaped death.

The guards were clearing the battlefield, piling the bandits' bodies together while tending to their wounded companions.

Hollen hurried over with a medicine chest.

He tore open the blood-soaked clothing on Lynn's left shoulder.

The wound was deep enough to expose bone, its flesh torn and gaping.

It looked particularly ghastly in the dim firelight.

Hollen worked deftly, first washing the wound with strong liquor.

The searing pain made Lynn's body jerk. He clenched his teeth, beads of cold sweat forming on his forehead.

Theon Greyjoy approached, abandoning his usual flippant air.

He looked at Lynn's pale face, then at the gruesomely slain bandits around him.

"Who would have thought a runaway crow would have such sharp claws?"

Much of the mockery had faded from his tone, replaced by an appraising curiosity tinged with surprise.

Lynn had no strength to answer.

His entire attention was focused on the blue panel only he could see.

[Host: Lynn]

[Strength: 3 (weakened by injury)]

[Agility: 3 (weakened by injury)]

[Constitution: 3 (weakened by injury)]

[Skills: One-Handed Sword (proficient) 18/100, Horsemanship (beginner) 9/10, Unarmed Combat (proficient) 84/100]

[Experience points: 7]

The number "7" was the best reward for the life-and-death struggle Lynn had just endured.

But the three bright red "weakened" statuses on the panel constantly reminded him of his body's dire condition.

The agony of his wound and his physical exhaustion left Lynn's head swimming.

He had to return to Winterfell as soon as possible and receive treatment from Maester Luwin.

Experience points should definitely go toward improving my attributes first.

Three points of strength is the physical capacity of an ordinary person. If I can raise it directly with experience points, I'll soon be invincible!

Put everything into constitution!

[Please note: attributes cannot be increased through experience points. Experience points can only be used to improve learned skills!]

[There are various ways to improve attributes. Please explore them yourself!]

That makes sense. If I could add to my attributes directly with experience points, I'd become superhuman in just a few days.

Lynn had thought he had discovered a loophole.

After testing it, he found that it really did not work!

In that case, I'll stick to improving my skills.

Lynn's gaze settled on the [Horsemanship (beginner) 9/10] entry.

The journey back was still long.

In his present condition, merely being jolted around on horseback would be enough to worsen his injury.

He did not hesitate.

System, add one experience point to Horsemanship.

Lynn gave the command silently.

[Experience points -1]

[Horsemanship 9/10 → 10/10, level increased]

[Congratulations, host. Horsemanship has advanced to (proficient) 0/100]

A warm current suddenly flowed through Lynn's limbs and body.

It was not the warmth of recovering stamina, but something far more mysterious.

Fragments of memories about riding flooded his mind.

How to maintain his balance on horseback, how to steer a horse with subtle pressure from his legs, how to sense its mood...

This knowledge felt innate, as though he had practiced it thousands of times until it was etched into his bones.

"Done."

Hollen bound Lynn's wound tightly with clean linen, his voice steady.

"The bone wasn't damaged. You're lucky, or you'd have been in for a world of pain."

Lynn nodded and shakily stood with a guard's support.

Robb led over the small horse that belonged to Lynn.

"Can you still ride?"

The young Young Wolf looked at Lynn.

His blue eyes held more than simple scrutiny now. There was a trace of concern.

Lynn nodded.

He said nothing, merely drew a deep breath and mounted through the intense pain.

He performed the movement much more smoothly than he had on the way there.

The moment he settled into the saddle, that strange sensation returned.

He could clearly feel every twitch of the horse's muscles beneath him, and the slight unease caused by the smell of blood around them.

Instinctively, Lynn gently squeezed the horse's flanks with his legs and gave the reins a slight flick.

The previously restless little horse miraculously settled down and gave a docile snort.

Surprise flashed through Robb's eyes.

He asked no questions.

"Let's head back."

The party regrouped and set out for Winterfell.

This time, Lynn was no longer at the rear.

He rode beside Robb and Theon.

It was an unspoken signal.

Lynn had killed the most enemies this time, earning the right to ride at the front.

Westeros revered martial prowess.

With sword and blood, Lynn had earned their respect.

The night wind of the North was bitterly cold.

The horses' hooves crunched through the snow.

Lynn's body rose and fell in rhythm with his horse.

His improved Horsemanship allowed him to adjust to the jolting with the least possible effort.

It let his taut muscles relax a little and eased the pain in his shoulder.

"What did you do before?"

Robb suddenly broke the silence.

His gaze rested on Lynn's longsword, which was still stained with blood.

Lynn's swordsmanship had neither a knight's elegance nor a master-at-arms' disciplined form.

But every move was simple, direct, and lethal.

Those techniques existed purely to kill an enemy in the shortest possible time.

They were indeed the techniques of the Night's Watch.

They closely resembled those of his father's younger brother, Uncle Benjen.

"Before I took the black, I was just an ordinary man trying to survive."

"I committed a few offenses, and that was how I ended up in the Night's Watch."

Lynn looked ahead, his voice slightly blurred by the wind.

The Night's Watch had long since lost its former glory. Most of its members were criminals, and being sent to the Wall was practically exile.

"To stay alive, you have to learn a few things."

The answer was vague, but reasonable.

Robb did not press him further.

He merely urged his horse on a little faster.

On the distant horizon, Winterfell's immense gray outline gradually emerged beneath the starlight.

By the time the party passed through the castle gates, blazing torches had already been lit in the courtyard.

Ned Stark stood on the steps of the main keep, with Maester Luwin holding a lantern behind him.

His expression was as calm and stern as the northern night sky.

His gaze swept over the party, the bandits' heads carried on horseback, and the wounded guards.

Finally, his eyes settled on Lynn.

The deserter, half his body stained red with blood, now sat quietly on his horse, riding beside Ned's eldest son.

Robb dismounted, strode up to his father, and dropped to one knee.

"Father, all the bandits have been eliminated."

"Our information wasn't quite accurate. There were twenty-six of them. Fortunately, Lynn killed quite a few, or we wouldn't have won so easily."

Ned nodded, helped his son up, and patted his shoulder.

Though his eldest son was still young, he could already shoulder some of Ned's burdens, which pleased him greatly.

"You did well."

Ned looked past Robb and turned his gaze back to Lynn.

"He..."

"He fought bravely, Father."

Robb spoke first, his voice carrying a hint of youthful excitement.

"He killed six bandits and protected our flank several times."

"He proved his loyalty through his actions."

The courtyard fell silent.

All the guards regarded the young man still sitting on his horse with complicated expressions.

Ned Stark said nothing.

He merely watched Lynn, emotions shifting within his gray eyes.

Suspicion, scrutiny, and a barely perceptible trace of... approval.

Clearly, a runaway crow would not fight with such fearless disregard for his life.

He found himself giving a little more credence to Lynn's account of the White Walkers.

A long moment passed.

"Maester Luwin."

Ned finally spoke.

"Take him for treatment."

"Use the best medicine we have."

"Yes, my lord."

Lantern in hand, Maester Luwin descended the steps and approached Lynn's horse.

Lynn dismounted and staggered.

After being tense for so long, reaching safety allowed weakness and exhaustion to overwhelm him in an instant.

Lynn offered the longsword back to the guard beside him.

Ned stopped him.

"There's no need to return it. Keep the sword. You've earned it."

As he followed Maester Luwin across the courtyard, Lynn could feel the Warden of the North's gaze lingering on his back.

He knew that, from tonight onward, he was no longer a prisoner who might be beheaded at any moment.

He had survived.

But the danger had not yet passed.

Lynn, Ned, and Maester Luwin were all waiting for the raven.