Catelyn's heart suddenly constricted.
"Who are you?"
Her voice trembled with fear.
"Get out!"
The man didn't speak.
He merely glanced at Bran on the bed with his emotionless eyes.
Then, he raised his dagger.
"No!"
Catelyn screamed and pounced.
She used all her strength to grab the man's dagger-wielding arm.
The man clearly hadn't expected this seemingly frail noblewoman to possess such strength.
He stumbled back from the impact.
"Get away, you madwoman!"
The man growled, his other hand gripping Catelyn's throat.
Catelyn couldn't breathe, her vision blurring.
But the hand clutching his arm refused to let go, even in death.
"Summer" roared and lunged, biting fiercely into the man's calf.
The man cried out, trying to kick the Direwolf away.
His eyes blazed with ferocity; the dagger broke free from Catelyn's grasp and was poised to stab her chest.
Just at this critical moment.
"Bang!"
The door was slammed open by a powerful force.
Lynn was the first to rush in.
What he saw was the dagger about to plunge into Catelyn's chest.
Without the slightest hesitation.
Lynn raised his long sword and thrust it straight into the man's back.
The man felt the fatal threat from behind.
He abandoned Catelyn, rolling clumsily to the side.
The sharp sword tip grazed his ribs, leaving a deeply bone-revealing wound.
Before he could steady himself, several other Stark Guards had already blocked all his escape routes.
A flicker of despair crossed the man's eyes.
He knew he had fallen into a trap.
He bit down on the poison in his mouth, intending to fight to the death!
"Kill!"
The man let out a beast-like roar, rushing recklessly towards Bran on the bed.
He had to complete his mission.
But Lynn was faster than him.
Lynn's body instantly closed in on the assassin.
"Pfft."
The sword blade cleanly pierced the man's throat.
The man's movements instantly froze.
His eyes widened, staring at Lynn in disbelief.
He opened his mouth, a gurgling sound escaping his throat as blood welled from the corners of his lips.
Then, he collapsed straight down.
[Killed 1 enemy, Experience +1]
[Current Experience: 7]
Kill a few more people, and his Light Sword skill can be upgraded immediately!
Lynn pulled the long sword from the corpse.
Warm blood flowed down the blade, dripping onto the ground.
Lynn wiped the long sword on the assassin's corpse; the sword quickly became clean of bloodstains and was returned to Lynn's waist.
The room was filled with a deathly silence.
Catelyn was slumped on the ground.
She was gasping for air, her face indistinguishable between tears and sweat.
She was now terrified.
The Guards, armed with swords, warily surrounded the corpse.
Someone was secretly monitoring Ned's every move.
Ned couldn't act rashly.
Upon hearing the commotion, he practically rushed over.
He saw the corpse on the ground, the shaken Catelyn, and the unharmed Bran.
Ned's gaze finally settled on Lynn.
His expression was incredibly complex.
Shock, lingering fear, relief, and... an ineffable trust.
Lynn's foresight had once again saved House Stark.
Soon, Ned's attention was drawn to a glint of cold light beside the corpse.
He walked over and bent down.
It was a dagger.
Even in the dim light, the dagger still emitted a glow that was not of this world.
The blade was covered with ripples like flowing water.
That was the unique mark of valyrian steel!
The forging method of valyrian steel had long been lost.
Only a thousand such blades remained in the entire world.
And in Westeros, the entire continent, there were fewer than 200 valyrian steel weapons.
Extremely precious.
Its hilt was made of some kind of pale bone, carved with intricate and ancient patterns.
Dragonbone.
Ned picked up the dagger.
A cold and heavy sensation came from his palm.
This was not an ordinary assassin's weapon.
It was more like a work of art.
A treasure capable of making any lord take notice.
In all of Westeros, only a handful of families possessed such weapons.
The meaning behind using such a luxurious dagger to assassinate a child almost made Ned's blood freeze.
Besides the Lannister, who else would be so wealthy?
"Clean this up."
Ned's voice was hoarse, devoid of emotion.
He didn't look at anyone.
The Guards dared not hesitate, immediately stepping forward to drag the still-warm corpse out.
Soon, Maester Luwin also arrived upon hearing the news.
He helped the still-trembling Catelyn away from the bloody scene.
The door was closed.
Only Ned and Lynn remained in the room.
Ned walked up to Lynn.
He said nothing, only looking at the young man before him.
Looking at his pale face, his blood-stained black clothes, and his eyes, which remained terrifyingly calm even in the firelight.
Prophecy.
Falling from the tower.
Assassination.
Again and again.
This crow, who had escaped from The Wall, had, through his actions, pulled House Stark back from the brink of the cliff time and time again.
Ned raised the dagger in his hand, then presented it to Lynn.
"You saved Catelyn."
"Saved Bran."
"This dagger is what you deserve."
Lynn's gaze fell on the dagger.
He didn't immediately reach for it.
He recognized this dagger.
In his memory, the owner of this dagger was Petyr Baelish.
The man nicknamed "Littlefinger."
He was once Catelyn's childhood sweetheart, and now the Master of Coin in King's Landing.
A man who had nothing but money.
He had lost this dagger to Tyrion Lannister.
And now, this dagger appeared in Winterfell.
In the hands of the assassin who tried to kill Bran.
This was indeed a perfect frame-up.
It was a vicious trap, enough to ignite an unending war between the lion and the Direwolf!
"Lord."
Lynn finally spoke.
"This is too precious."
"Precious?" Ned scoffed, a self-deprecating twist to his lips.
"No matter how precious something is, it can't bring back a life."
"Take it."
Ned's tone brooked no argument.
"You are a warrior."
"An excellent warrior needs a weapon worthy of him."
"And you, you deserve to have it."
Ned forced the dagger into Lynn's hand.
The dragonbone hilt felt cold to the touch.
Its delicate texture seemed to carry the breath of ancient dragons.
Lynn gripped the dagger, no longer refusing.
No one could refuse such a divine weapon.
Ned looked at Lynn.
"Lynn."
"Tomorrow, I will personally escort you and Jon to The Wall."
"Be prepared."
Ned clapped Lynn heavily on the shoulder.
He turned, opened the door, and his tall figure, without a moment's pause, quickly disappeared down the corridor.
He had to comfort his wife.
And also prepare for that journey south, destined to be filled with blood and conspiracy.
The study returned to silence.
Lynn looked down at the valyrian steel dagger in his hand.
His calm face was reflected on the blade.
He did not reveal Littlefinger's conspiracy.
To muddy the waters was not only what Petyr hoped for, but also what he, a small figure, most wished to happen.
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