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"It really is a Direwolf."
Everyone was stunned by the sight before them.
A Direwolf.
The sigil of House Stark.
A creature rumored to live only north of The Wall.
They hadn't been seen south of The Wall for over two hundred years.
Their appearance here now was not a good omen.
Most importantly, the deserter had actually been right!
Theon Greyjoy whistled, dismounted, and cautiously walked over.
"It's huge."
He kicked the stiff corpse with his boot.
"It's a monster."
"It's not a monster."
Jon Snow retorted, dismounting as well and crouching down to examine it closely.
"She's a mother. Look."
He pushed aside the tangled fur beneath the mother wolf.
Several furry little creatures were huddled together, snuggling against their mother's cold body, letting out faint whimpers.
They were still alive.
Bran's eyes instantly lit up.
"Look! Father!"
He jumped off his horse too, stumbling as he ran over.
The cubs hadn't opened their eyes yet and were only the size of puppies.
They instinctively burrowed towards the warmth.
Bran carefully picked one up and held it before his eyes.
The little creature was completely black, with only its nose wet.
"Kill them."
Theon Greyjoy's voice rang out coldly.
"They won't survive without their mother."
Eddard Stark frowned, looking at the fragile little lives with complex emotions.
"Born to death…"
"Theon is right."
Ned said in a deep voice.
"It's the most merciful thing to do."
"No!"
Bran immediately cried out.
Robb also quickly spoke up.
"Father, please."
"A Direwolf died in the South."
An abrupt voice interjected.
The voice was not loud, but it made everyone stop what they were doing.
Everyone looked towards the sound.
The speaker was Lynn, the captured deserter.
He stood there, his wrists still in shackles, his face deathly pale.
But Lynn's eyes, at this moment, were exceptionally bright.
Ned Stark turned around, his grey eyes fixed on him.
That gaze was almost tangible, carrying scrutiny and pressure.
Lynn did not flinch.
He met Ned's gaze and continued calmly.
"My Lord."
"The Direwolf is the sigil of House Stark."
"A mother wolf, dead on the road, her throat pierced by an antler."
"And on her body, there are marks of being torn by a mountain lion."
Lynn's words were unhurried.
The smile on Theon Greyjoy's face froze.
He instinctively retorted.
"How can there be mountain lions in the North?"
"Mountain lions only exist in the warm South!"
The deer, the sigil of House Baratheon, is a crowned stag.
The lion, on the other hand, is the sigil of Lannister.
The wolf represents Stark.
The wolf's jaw, resting on a broken antler.
It also refers to the problems left behind after King Robert's death.
Robert's children, none of them his own, also refer to Baelish's dagger that caused chaos… and Ned, he is that wolf.
After understanding the meaning of those four words, Ned was killed.
"There are six cubs here."
Lynn's gaze swept over the hungry little wolves.
"Four males and two females."
"Exactly corresponding to Duke Stark's six children."
Looking at the five Direwolves on the ground, Theon wanted to retort.
"There are clearly only five…"
But Ned's cold face made him swallow his words back.
The wind howled, swirling up the scattered Snow on the ground, hitting people's faces.
This was no longer a coincidence.
This was an omen.
An ominous omen from the Old Gods.
"What exactly are you trying to say?"
Eddard Stark's voice was colder than the northern wind.
If the cubs corresponded to his children, did this dead Direwolf correspond to himself?
"Winter Is Coming."
Lynn uttered these four words, one by one.
This motto of House Stark, spoken by an outsider like him, carried a strange sense of destiny.
"This is not a gift, My Lord."
"This is a warning."
"Things beyond The Wall have awakened, and the Old Gods have sent a warning."
"They belong to the Stark children."
"They will protect them."
After Lynn finished speaking, he remained silent, lowering his head again.
He had said enough.
To say more would not be a warning, but a curse.
He certainly didn't want to lose his head.
Eddard Stark stood silently in place.
He looked at the dead mother wolf, at the fatal antler, and then at the five cubs.
"Take off his shackles."
Although Ned still had doubts about Lynn, his attitude was much better than before.
Then, Ned's gaze fell on his youngest son, Bran.
Bran was clutching the little wolf in his arms tightly, looking at him with a pleading expression.
After a long pause.
"You raise them yourselves."
Eddard Stark finally spoke.
"You feed them yourselves, you train them yourselves."
"If they die, you bury them with your own hands."
"Do not use the hands of others."
Joy instantly blossomed on the children's faces.
"There's still one more!"
Jon Snow's puzzled voice sounded.
He pulled another cub from a nearby snowdrift.
It had been pushed out by its companions and was lying alone in the Snow.
This wolf cub was completely white, even its eyes were red.
It lay quietly, not whimpering like the other cubs.
"An abandoned one."
Ned also remembered what Lynn had just said; he had been surprised when Lynn mentioned six cubs, as he had only seen five.
It turned out there really were six!
This made Ned somewhat believe that Lynn could see things others couldn't.
"Can he really predict the future?"
Theon's whistle interrupted Ned's thoughts.
"It suits you well, Snow."
Jon ignored Theon, simply picking it up.
The little Direwolf quietly curled up in Jon's arms, neither crying nor fussing.
"That deserter was right, there really are six, so this one is yours, Jon."
Robb said with a smile to his bastard brother.
Robb and Jon had a good relationship.
He had reddish-brown hair and a sturdy build.
He was now 14 years old.
As Eddard Stark's son, he inherited his father's character.
He upheld honor, was loyal, and stood for justice.
A rare smile also appeared on Jon Snow's face.
And so, the Direwolf incident concluded.
The Guards, once again escorting Lynn, followed the procession.
No one looked at him anymore.
As if his shocking statements just now were merely a delirium in the wind.
But Lynn knew that everything was different.
Even with his head bowed, he could feel the gaze from the Duke of Winterfell lingering on his face for a very long time.
Suspicion still existed in that gaze.
But more than that, there was a sense of vigilance.
Robb and the others were still young and didn't understand the meaning behind the deer, lion, and wolf.
But Ned understood perfectly.
Back in Winterfell, Lynn was not sent to the gallows, nor was he thrown into a dungeon.
He was confined to a room at the base of a tower.
The room was small, with only a hard cot, a table, and a small window that let in cold air.
Winterfell, situated above hot springs, had an excellent environment, with an independent hot spring heating system.
It wasn't as cold as imagined; compared to the Night's Watch deserter's days of roughing it on the road, this was practically paradise!
A Guard brought a simple meal.
Black bread, roasted meat, and a steaming hot bowl of organ soup.
Lynn wolfed down the food, and a hint of warmth finally spread through his cold stomach.
The feeling of weakness in his body receded slightly.
He walked to the copper mirror; his appearance was still his original one, and his name was also his original name.
It was as if his transmigration had altered everyone's inherent perceptions, making everything seem so logical.
Perhaps this was the great power of the System.
At the same time, this also made Lynn feel a little more comfortable; at least he wasn't the ugly man who was beheaded at the beginning of the show, otherwise, how could he find a woman? He would probably be despised to death… By the window, looking out through the narrow stone crack.
A corner of the castle courtyard could be seen.
Guards patrolled, and servants bustled about.
Everything seemed orderly.
But Lynn knew that beneath this calm, a huge storm was brewing.
He had forcefully bound his fate, and the fate of this family, together in an almost insane way!
The blue panel, visible only to him, reappeared before his eyes.
His gaze fell on the glaring [Experience: 0].
Kill-Enemy System.
To gain experience, he had to kill enemies.
But he was now an unarmed prisoner, locked in the North's strongest castle.
Who could he kill?
Lynn's brows furrowed tightly.
He had to improve his strength as quickly as possible.
In this world where lives were as cheap as grass, only power was the sole reliance.
Hi guys! I use Webnovel to promote my Etsy shop. Sorry if this story isn't very good. In my Etsy shop, you'll find many customized gift products for your loved ones. Please check it out and support us!
etsyshop/BHAGYSMART
Link is in my aboutHi guys! I use Webnovel to promote my Etsy shop. Sorry if this story isn't very good. In my Etsy shop, you'll find many customized gift products for your loved ones. Please check it out and support us!
etsyshop/BHAGYSMART
Link is in my about