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Early the next morning.
The sound of the wooden door opening came with a jerky, long-unused lurch.
A beam of off-white light pierced through, dispelling the accumulated chill in the room.
Lynn squinted, adjusting to the long-absent brightness.
"Come out."
The Guards' voice was devoid of emotion, merely carrying out orders.
Lynn was not taken back to the execution block, nor was he escorted to a deeper dungeon.
He was led to the castle courtyard.
The biting air filled his lungs, carrying the lingering echoes of clanging metal and the charred scent of roasted meat drifting from the distant kitchen.
This vibrant atmosphere gave him the illusion of being in another world.
Lynn's body was recovering.
The energy from the hot soup and bread was slowly mending the body that had been hollowed out by hunger and cold.
Two Guards stood behind him like door gods, neither too close nor too far.
It was both supervision and a silent warning.
Lynn's range of movement was limited to this small area of the courtyard.
He scanned his surroundings.
Not far away, Robb Stark, the heir of Winterfell, was sparring with Ser Rodrik, the master-at-arms.
Wooden swords clashed, emitting dull thudding sounds.
Robb's movements were steady and powerful, precise and deliberate, showing a seriousness beyond his years.
On the other side, Theon Greyjoy was practicing archery.
His posture was graceful, each arrow drawing quiet cheers from the surrounding servants.
But his gaze always unconsciously drifted towards Robb, carrying a hint of barely concealed rivalry.
Sansa Stark was learning embroidery.
And Arya Stark's embroidery was a mess.
Everything was full of life.
A rough yet resilient vitality, characteristic of the North.
Lynn ambled over to Ser Rodrik, watching the two spar.
Ser Rodrik's teaching experience was rich; he could always pinpoint Robb's weaknesses with incisive accuracy.
No wonder he could train young men like Robb and Jon, who possessed considerable sword skills.
Seeing Lynn "learning on the sly" nearby, Ser Rodrik did not chase him away; instead, he stopped his movements and beckoned.
"Boy, you've been watching for a while. If you want to learn, come over. Why are you being so sneaky?"
The blunt straightforwardness typical of the North.
Lynn didn't stand on ceremony and walked right over.
"Ser, I want to learn the Two-Handed Sword. Can you teach me?"
Ser Rodrik was a little surprised.
He looked Lynn up and down, then stepped forward to squeeze his arm and shoulder, finally shaking his head.
"Your physique is just right for a Single Handed Sword. To learn a Two-Handed Greatsword, you're still a bit lacking. Even if you could wield a greatsword, I'm afraid you wouldn't be able to unleash its proper power. Don't aim too high; start with the basics."
Lynn had already mastered the Single Handed Sword, so he naturally wasn't interested in learning it again. He insisted:
"Ser, I still want to see your greatsword."
Seeing Lynn's persistence, Ser Rodrik scratched his thick white beard, looking troubled.
At this moment, Robb, who was leaning on his iron sword and panting, spoke up.
"Ser Rodrik, if he wants to learn, just teach him a few moves. Let him hit a wall, and he'll naturally settle down."
With the Young Wolf's word, Ser Rodrik no longer hesitated.
He took a heavy training Two-Handed Greatsword from the weapon rack and tossed it to Lynn.
"Hold it steady."
"Clang!"
Lynn reached out with both hands to catch it, but underestimated the weight of the thing. The greatsword almost slipped from his grasp, making his wrists tingle.
Rodrik showed a surprised expression.
"I didn't expect you to have some foundation, so I'll teach you."
"But at your current level, it's still a struggle."
The greatsword felt cold and rough in his hands; the entire weight of the sword pressed down on Lynn's forearms, making him feel as if he wasn't holding a sword, but carrying an iron pillar.
Ser Rodrik shook his head and easily took the greatsword from Lynn's hands.
Rodrik's strength was great; Lynn estimated him to be around 8 points, which was related to his sturdy physique. He handled the heavy weapon with ease.
"Watch closely, boy."
"The essence of the greatsword lies in brute force, in momentum!"
"Of course, you can't be flashy with this thing either."
As soon as he finished speaking, Ser Rodrik's body sank slightly, his waist and abdomen twisted, and his arms moved with the momentum.
The heavy blade cut through the air, creating a dull whoosh!
There were no fancy movements, just a simple horizontal sweep, yet it carried an unstoppable momentum, as if it could cleave everything in front of it in two.
"Every swing of it must utilize the rotation of the body, using the waist and abdomen to drive the shoulders, then transmitting it to the arms, and finally to the sword."
"With your build, although you have some core strength, the sword is barely moved by you; you can only be carried along by the sword."
Ser Rodrik handed the sword back to Lynn.
"You try again."
Lynn imitated him, lowering his center of gravity, trying to twist his waist and abdomen.
But the sword was too heavy; Lynn, mimicking Rodrik's earlier movements, swung the sword weakly, with no momentum at all, more like he was flinging a log.
Robb watched from the side, shaking his head, but there was no mockery in his eyes, rather a hint of something strange.
This kid actually managed to swing it.
Goodness, this kid has some tricks up his sleeve.
He muttered to himself.
If Lynn had more strength, he might actually be able to use a greatsword!
Just as Lynn was desperately trying to grasp the "momentum" that Rodrik spoke of, a cold prompt sounded in his mind.
[Ding! Detectable skill 'Two-Handed Greatsword']
[Learning condition: Strength ≥ 7]
[Your current Strength attribute is insufficient; you cannot master this skill]
Lynn's movements paused.
Not enough strength... skill learning also requires conditions?
That's right, if learning a skill meant ignoring physical fitness and directly applying it in combat, then this system would be too overpowered.
Now was not the time; in any case, Rodrik wasn't going anywhere. Lynn put down the greatsword and bowed seriously to Ser Rodrik.
"Thank you for your guidance, Ser."
After all this effort, although he hadn't learned the skill, he had gained a new understanding of the use of strength.
More importantly, he had found a clear short-term goal.
Although this kid was overestimating his abilities, his attitude was quite proper.
Meanwhile, Robb, carrying his sword, walked over and patted Lynn's shoulder, a hint of inquiry on his face.
"How does it feel? Still want to learn?"
"I wanted to learn it too back then, and it ended up just like you."
Robb was kind and didn't look down on Lynn for being a deserter; he was sincere and straightforward.
Lynn grinned, showing a mouthful of white teeth.
"Of course, if I have the chance, I will definitely seek guidance from Ser Rodrik again."
Rodrik nodded in agreement.
This kid Lynn seemed quite talented, and he wasn't a stingy person, so he immediately said,
"Boy, if you want to learn in the future, just come directly to me. As long as I have time, I will definitely teach you, but before you come, you still need to train your body well."
Just then, a sudden clatter of hooves broke the tranquility of the courtyard.
A messenger, covered in wind and snow, rushed in through the castle gate.
He dismounted unsteadily, his face filled with panic.
"Lord Duke!"
He rushed towards Ned Stark, who was watching his sons train.
Robb and Ser Rodrik, who were sparring, stopped.
Theon also put down his longbow.
Everyone's gaze focused on the messenger.
"Another merchant caravan..."
The messenger's voice was very low.
But in the silent courtyard, a few words still drifted into Lynn's ears with the wind.
"White Knife River..."
"...not a single survivor."
Ned Stark's usually calm face instantly clouded with frost.
The air around him suddenly grew heavy.
"This is a provocation to the North!"
Robb's young face was filled with anger; his hand gripped the hilt of his wooden sword tightly.
"Father, let me go!"
"Just a bunch of rats hiding in the gutters."
Theon Greyjoy walked over, a hint of bloodthirsty excitement on his face.
"Leave it to me, my Lord, I guarantee I'll hang their heads on the city walls."
Ned ignored them.
He simply gave a brief command to his captain of the Guards.
"Gather the men."
"Clear them out."
The captain of the Guards bowed in acknowledgment and immediately turned to carry out the order.
Ned then turned to Robb.
"You come with me."
This was to take him into the council chamber.
A clear signal.
Winterfell's Young Wolf was about to formally participate in a Northern military cleanup operation for the first time.
The group quickly walked towards the main keep.
In the courtyard, only Lynn remained, guarded by two Guards.
Lynn's heart began to beat powerfully.
Not out of fear.
But because of an irrepressible... craving.
Enemy Slaying System.
To gain experience, he had to slay enemies.
And now, enemies had appeared.
They were not nobles, not soldiers, just a group of lawless bandits.
Killing them would cause no trouble, nor would it invite retaliation from any family.
They were perfect experience points.
This was his chance.
It was his only chance to shed his prisoner status and truly take control of his own destiny!
When Ned and Robb and the others walked out of the main keep with solemn expressions, Lynn moved.
He stepped forward.
The Guards behind him immediately reached out and pressed his shoulders.
"Stop!"
"Let him speak."
Ned Stark's voice rang out.
He stopped and turned around.
His grey eyes, like deep pools, quietly watched Lynn.
The Guards released their hands.
Lynn met everyone's gaze, straightened his worn black clothes, and bowed slightly.
"Lord Duke."
Lynn's voice was not loud, but exceptionally clear.
"You gave me life; this kindness, I cannot repay."
Theon Greyjoy let out a scoff.
"A deserter also knows gratitude?"
Lynn ignored him and just looked at Ned.
"Prophecy is words in the wind; time will eventually prove everything."
"But now, loyalty needs to be proven by action."
Lynn's gaze turned to the gathering Guards, to the sharp blades and cold armor.
"I hear that brigands are rampaging in your lands, slaughtering your people."
"They endanger the security of the North; they are enemies of the entire North."
Lynn raised his head and looked directly into Ned Stark's eyes.
"I am not a knight, nor do I have a title."
"But before I donned the black, I too fought to survive."
"Please allow me to join the cleanup squad."
"Let me use the blood of those brigands to wash away my shame, to prove my worth."
"My life was given by you, and it can be taken back at any time."
"But please let me fight for the North first."
The courtyard was silent.
Everyone looked at Lynn with an incredulous gaze.
A prisoner who had just been begging for his life on the execution block was now volunteering to face vicious brigands.
Robb's face was filled with surprise.
Theon's lips curled in a sneer, as if he were watching a madman who overestimated his abilities.
Maester Luwin stood behind Ned, his grey eyebrows tightly furrowed.
Ned Stark remained silent for a long time.
He just looked at Lynn.
Looking at his pale face, his worn clothes, and his eyes that still burned with fire in the cold winds of the North.
This man was full of mysteries.
His request, under the honor code of the North, sounded somewhat... noble.
To wash away the shame of being a deserter with the blood of enemies.
To prove his loyalty with action.
This was very Northern.
This was also very... Stark.
"On what grounds?"
Ned finally spoke, his voice cold.
Lynn answered quickly.
"If I die at the hands of brigands, you'll have one less problem."
"If I survive and kill the enemies, then I will have proven that I am not a useless person who only talks big."
Ned's gaze lingered on his face for a long time.
So long that Lynn could almost hear his own heart thumping against his ribs.
"Horen."
Ned called the captain of the Guards' name.
"Give him a sword."
The captain of the Guards was startled for a moment, but still bowed immediately.
"Yes, my Lord."
Ned's gaze returned to Lynn.
"You will follow Robb's company."
"Don't disappoint me."
With that, Ned Stark turned and strode away.
In Lynn's vision, that blue panel seemed to brighten a few shades.
[Name: Lynn]
[Strength: 5 (Ordinary adult 3)]
[Agility: 5 (Ordinary adult 3)]
[Constitution: 5 (Ordinary adult 3)]
After a night of rest, his body had fully recovered to its peak state!
Moreover, among the old Night's Watch, these attributes were also extremely good, belonging to the upper-middle level.
It would be easy to kill some bandits who were ordinary people, some of whom couldn't even use weapons properly.
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