Night deepened.
Most of Winterfell fell silent.
Only the footsteps of patrolling guards echoed in the empty Courtyard.
And the occasional whinny of a horse from the stables.
Lynn's room was located on one side of the main keep, near the kitchen.
The fire in the fireplace had shrunk to a small cluster of dark red embers, barely dispelling the chill in the room.
Lynn sat cross-legged on the bed.
The longsword Eddard Stark had bestowed upon him lay across his lap.
He was not sleeping.
He was waiting.
"Thump, thump-thump."
A faint, almost inaudible knocking sound came from the door.
Lynn opened his eyes, a slight curve to his lips.
He got off the bed and unlatched the door.
A small figure slipped through the crack in the door, moving as nimbly as a cat.
Arya Stark, hugging a practice wooden sword taller than herself, darted into the room.
She closed the door behind her, let out a long breath, her face alight with the excitement of a prank successfully pulled off.
Arya lowered her voice, speaking smugly.
"The guards thought I was asleep."
She placed the practice wooden sword on the ground and clapped the dust from her hands.
In her eyes, a desire burned hotter than the embers in the fireplace.
"Do you remember our agreement?"
"Teach me."
Lynn wasted no words.
He picked up his longsword and executed a sword flourish in the dim room.
Steel cut through the air, emitting a faint hum.
"The Night's Watch swordsmanship has no name."
Lynn looked at Arya.
"It has only one purpose."
"That is to kill the enemy in the shortest possible time and keep yourself alive."
"It's not pretty."
"It's even ugly."
Arya nodded vigorously: "I know!"
Lynn moved to the room's center, clearing a small space.
"Watch closely."
He assumed a standard sword-fighting stance.
His center of gravity lowered, the blade angled towards the ground.
This was a posture that heavily emphasized stability and explosive power.
"When an enemy slashes down..."
Lynn simulated a parrying motion.
He did not meet the blow with brute force, but instead used the angle of the blade to deflect the 'imaginary enemy's' attack.
Then, with a flick of his wrist, the sword tip thrust out.
The movement was concise, vicious, and aimed directly at a vital point.
"Defense is always for the next attack."
Lynn sheathed his sword.
"Many Wildlings beyond the Wall are taller and stronger than us."
"If you try to match them in strength, you'll be the one who dies."
Arya watched intently.
She raised her wooden sword, attempting to imitate Lynn's movements.
Lynn interrupted Arya's attempt and handed her his own sword.
"Wooden swords are toys for children."
"Use this!"
Excitement flashed in Arya's eyes.
This was her first time touching a real sword!
This was the real thing that Catelyn had always forbidden her to touch!
Arya took the heavy One-handed sword.
"Hmph!"
She let out a delicate cry and thrust the One-handed sword forward.
But her movements seemed somewhat comical.
The heavy sword hindered her speed.
Lynn, meanwhile, picked up Arya's wooden sword and offered it as a target.
When parrying, Arya's slender arms trembled from the impact.
When thrusting, she lacked sufficient penetrating power.
"That's not right."
Arya stopped, frowning in frustration.
"I can't deflect the sword like you do."
Lynn looked at her tense little face and trembling arms.
He realized that while the Night's Watch's sword art emphasized technique, its foundation was still built upon the strength of an adult male.
For Arya, it was still too 'heavy'.
He had to make adjustments.
Lynn pondered for a moment, then raised his sword again.
This time, his movements changed.
He no longer emphasized the solidity of parrying, but focused on evasion and agile counterattacks.
The blade no longer made direct, strength-draining slashes and thrusts, but instead drew light arcs, specifically targeting gaps in the enemy's defense.
Lynn's movements were smaller and faster.
As Lynn immersed himself in this concept of a lighter sword art, tailored for Arya, the familiar Blue Panel quietly appeared.
Host has achieved comprehensive understanding, Strength attribute met, Agility attribute met, successfully comprehended new skill...
Congratulations, Host, you have acquired a new skill: Light Sword (Initiate) 1/10
Lynn's heart stirred.
This 'Light Sword', which originated from the Night's Watch swordsmanship yet was entirely different, was precisely what he currently lacked.
When facing strength-based opponents, his proud One-handed sword seemed somewhat inadequate.
He could not fight such people by competing in strength.
He could only exhaust his opponent's stamina through evasion.
He only needed to deliver a fatal blow when the opponent was exhausted.
"Try this again."
Lynn broke down the nascent 'Light Sword' technique into its most basic footwork and thrusts, teaching them to Arya.
Arya's eyes lit up.
She raised the steel sword again.
This time, she no longer tried to 'parry'.
When Lynn lightly tapped Arya's steel sword with his wooden sword, she instinctively retreated half a step, while simultaneously flicking her steel sword from a tricky angle towards Lynn's 'wrist'.
"So fast!"
Arya exclaimed excitedly.
She felt like a fish in water, freed from restraint.
However, this excitement lasted only a moment.
When she tried to attack consecutively, problems arose again.
Light Sword although did not require as much strength, it demanded extremely high coordination and precision from the body.
Arya's several thrusts missed their mark.
She stopped, panting, her small face flushed.
"It's still not working."
Arya's shoulders slumped in discouragement.
"My sword is too heavy."
She looked at the steel longsword in her hand, then at the wooden club in Lynn's hand.
She suddenly realized a cruel truth.
"I... I'm a girl."
Arya's voice dropped, carrying a hint of unwillingness.
"No matter how much I practice, my strength will never match Robb's, or Theon's."
She looked up, her gray eyes filled with confusion.
"This sword art, in the end, still relies on strength to overpower the opponent, doesn't it?"
Lynn fell silent.
Arya's intuition was sharp.
Even 'Light Sword', within the battlefield logic of Westeros, ultimately relied on the power to penetrate armor or shatter bones for its lethality.
Lynn knew that Arya needed an entirely different fighting style.
A sword art that did not rely on strength, but only on speed and precision.
"You're right, Arya."
Lynn patted her head.
"You don't need to be the strongest."
"But you can be the fastest."
Just then, a flurry of footsteps came from outside the door.
"Over there! I think I heard something!"
It was the night watch!
Arya's face turned pale, and she grabbed Lynn's sleeve.
Lynn quickly blew out the oil lamp, and the room instantly plunged into darkness.
He pulled Arya, and they hid in the shadows behind the door.
The footsteps grew closer, finally stopping at the door.
Lynn could clearly hear the guards' breathing outside.
Arya held her breath nervously, her small hands cold, clutching Lynn tightly.
She was two years younger than her sister Sansa, only nine years old now, but she also knew she shouldn't be in a man's room at night.
After a long while.
"Must have been mistaken, let's go."
Another guard mumbled.
"In this damn weather, the wind sounds like ghosts."
The footsteps gradually faded away.
Lynn and Arya exchanged a glance in the dark, both letting out a sigh of relief.
"I should go back."
Arya's voice trembled slightly.
"Tomorrow... can I come again tomorrow night?"
"Be careful."
Lynn helped her tidy her messy hair.
"The Castle is crowded these days, the King's party is almost here."
Arya nodded vigorously, then, like a Stag, silently disappeared down the corridor.
Lynn closed the door and re-lit a candle.
He looked at the longsword in his hand, then at the 'Light Sword (Initiate) 1/10' on the System panel.
Although Arya hadn't learned it, he had gained a lot.
Lynn knew he needed to improve his strength quickly.
The King's arrival meant the center of the storm had shifted to Winterfell.
And he was already in the eye of the storm.