On the training ground.
Shanks faced off against a soldier named Buggy, both holding wooden swords.
The two of them studied each other carefully, searching for any opening.
But Buggy was clearly the more hot-tempered of the two. Before long, he lost patience and charged forward, swinging his sword.
Shanks reacted immediately, raising his own sword to block. The two exchanged blows back and forth for more than a dozen rounds.
In the end, Shanks proved the more skilled, knocking Buggy to the ground.
"First team, Shanks wins!"
After Shanks helped Buggy to his feet and escorted him away, Galon announced again, "Second team, begin!"
Jon Snow stepped forward to face a man in his thirties, missing a finger on his right hand.
After struggling through dozens of exchanges, Jon finally managed to defeat his opponent.
"Second team, Jon Snow wins!"
"Next, the third team begins!"
...
Galon spent the entire afternoon selecting the captains of all sixty squads.
As dusk fell, he gathered everyone once more and announced:
"I'm giving you ten days to integrate your teams.
From now on, each squad will have five days of rotating duty and five days of free training.
Ten days from now, we will hold the selection for hundred-man captains. That will test your teamwork."
"Any objections?"
Silence fell over the crowd.
The veteran soldiers had realized through the afternoon's trials that only five of them had won. All the remaining squad leaders were members of the Steel Fist Company.
Their excitement from midday had long since vanished.
Seeing their low morale, Galon thought to himself, These men were hit too hard by the selection. If they refuse to cooperate with their squad leaders, the unit will still be a scattered mess.
I need a way to lift their spirits again.
His eyes shifted, and an idea quickly formed.
Galon clapped his hands, drawing everyone's attention.
He walked over to a soldier in his twenties who had just been eliminated and asked, "Do you have any objections to the selection just now?"
The soldier shook his head dejectedly, saying nothing.
"If you have no objections, then why are you so downcast?" Galon continued.
"Do you think that because you lost today, you'll never have another chance?"
The soldier avoided Galon's gaze and said quietly, "My lord, I just feel that there may never be another opportunity like this. The future will probably be the same as now…"
Galon looked at the veteran, who was already preparing to give up, and his tone gradually hardened as he cut him off.
"You're still young, yet you fall apart at the first setback. How will you ever amount to anything?
Remember this: today's selection only represents today. It does not define the future."
He paused, sweeping his gaze across the crowd.
"When the war begins, you'll have plenty of chances to become squad leaders or even hundred-man captains.
I can even promise you this right now. As long as you earn merit on the battlefield, I will make you my lesser nobles!"
Boom—!
Everyone stared at Galon in disbelief, as if a blazing fire had been ignited in their hearts.
"My lord, is that true?"
"Of course!"
The veterans grew even more excited, shouting at the top of their lungs, "We swear our lives to Lord Galon!"
Galon smiled faintly. Only after their renewed shouts rang out several times did he announce their dismissal.
He watched as they gradually left the training ground. Noticing that some soldiers were injured, he turned to Robett at his side.
"Uncle Robett, tell the kitchens to add more meat tonight."
"And…"
He hesitated for a moment before adding, "Have two barrels of ale brought up from the cellar. Let everyone have a little to drink tonight."
Robett nodded in agreement, then asked curiously, "Galon, where did you learn all these methods of training soldiers?"
"Galbart never knew anything like this."
Galon's heart skipped a beat, but he smiled calmly. "I worked it out myself from books. I don't even know if it's effective."
Walking beside Galon, Robett sighed. "With your training methods, many more of these veterans will survive on the battlefield.
If Galbart could see this, he would be very pleased."
Galon sighed appropriately in response.
Seeing this, Robett patted Galon on the shoulder.
"All right, I'll head to the kitchens and inform Big Ron. Galon, you should go back to the inner keep."
Galon nodded and watched Robett leave.
He himself headed toward the Hall of a Thousand Beasts.
At dinner, Robett vividly recounted the afternoon's events to Gavin and Ayna, leaving both of them thrilled.
Gavin even begged Galon to recruit him into the Steel Fist Company.
Galon looked at six-year-old Gavin and could not help but laugh.
"Wait until you're a bit older."
He patted Gavin's hair and encouraged him. "I'll have someone teach you the basics of swordsmanship first. When you're a little older, you can train together with Lawrence."
Gavin nodded obediently.
Seeing Galon encourage Gavin, Sybelle was in an excellent mood and deliberately let Galon drink an extra cup of wine.
After dinner, Galon went as usual to the godswood to pray, then returned to his chambers to bathe and rest.
Once he fell asleep, his consciousness awakened again as his skinchanger ability was triggered.
By now, Galon was accustomed to wandering among the heart trees.
As usual, he drifted among the heart trees of the Wolfswood, occasionally listening to the prayers of certain clans.
Before long, Galon arrived at Winterfell.
Because it was already late, the godswood there was empty.
Growing bored, Galon prepared to withdraw, but just as he was about to leave, a raven fluttered down and landed nearby.
'The Three-Eyed Raven?'
He immediately recognized the bird as the same Three-Eyed Raven he had encountered before.
'What is it doing here?'
Curiosity stirred in Galon's mind, and he tried to listen to the raven's thoughts.
But as he focused on the branches of the heart tree, instead of hearing thoughts, he felt a strange pull, an inexplicable connection drawing him in.
'Hm? What is this?'
Galon's consciousness touched it curiously.
The next instant—
His awareness shifted, and he found himself suspended in midair.
'Where is this?'
Before he could ponder further, Galon saw a ten-year-old boy plummeting downward at tremendous speed, a raven flying beside him.
"Ah—!"
"I'm faaaalling!"
The boy shouted at the raven beside him. "H-Hey, think of something!"
"There is a way," the raven replied as they fell together. "You have to learn how to fly."
"I can't fly! I can't, I can't…"
"How do you know if you've never tried?"
The boy and the raven continued their exchange, while Galon's consciousness hovered above them.
Neither the boy nor the raven noticed Galon's presence, as if he were nothing more than part of the scenery.
Galon gazed at the boy and softly spoke his name in his mind. 'Bran…'
'So this is Bran's dream.'
'I can actually slip into Bran's dream using the Three-Eyed Raven's power?'
In an instant, Galon understood.
This was another ability of possessing the heart trees. He could perceive the magic of a greenseer.
'Greenseer magic comes from the old gods and the heart trees.'
'And I can possess the heart trees themselves. Doesn't that mean my authority is even higher than a greenseer's?'
Galon's consciousness surged with excitement.
At that moment, the raven cried out to Bran, "Look down!"
"I'm scared…"
Before Bran could finish, the raven spoke again. "You must learn to fly. Look down!"
Bran instinctively looked below and immediately felt as though his organs were melting. The ground rushed toward him.
The whole world spread out beneath him like a vivid, multicolored tapestry.
Everything was astonishingly clear.
Bran forgot his fear.
Like a soaring hawk, he gazed down upon Winterfell from above.
The entire castle lay open before him.
At that moment, Galon noticed Roger's figure within Winterfell and instantly remembered that he had ordered Roger to place a letter in Theon's room.
'No. This can't be seen by the Three-Eyed Raven or Bran.'
His consciousness sharpened as he tried to conceal that scene within the heart tree's vision.
The moment that thought formed, Roger's figure vanished from Bran's dream.
Neither the raven nor Bran noticed anything amiss.
'As expected. My authority surpasses that of a greenseer.'
Galon smiled with satisfaction. From now on, he would not have to worry about the Three-Eyed Raven spying on him.
Bran saw Sansa in her room, sewing a cloak from bear fur, and Robb discussing the castle's expenses with Maester Luwin.
He looked east and saw a sailing ship cutting through the waters of the White Knife, where his mother stood with Ser Rodrik, gazing ahead.
He looked south and saw the blue-green waters of the Trident surging, where his father pleaded bitterly with the king.
Arya was in the woods chasing Nymeria, while Rickon watched in tears as Shaggydog was put down by terrifying hounds.
Lifting his gaze, Bran's sight crossed the Narrow Sea.
A silver-haired girl lay with a powerful Dothraki warrior on the grasslands.
He looked north to the Wall, where a short dwarf was relieving himself beyond the barrier.
Finally, Bran looked west and saw his bastard brother drinking and boasting joyfully with a group of people, fully integrated into life at Deepwood Motte.
And the Galon who had won the trial by combat lay in deep sleep.
"Now you understand, don't you?"
The raven perched on his shoulder and whispered as it looked at the sleeping Galon. "Now you know why you must live."
"Why?" Bran asked in confusion, still falling.
"Because winter is coming. Because you are destined to help him become the new hope of this world.
Brandon Stark."
Bran looked at the raven, still dazed, and only then noticed the third eye upon it.
"What should I do?"
"Now, you must fly."
The raven spread its wings and cawed loudly.
Whoosh—!
The mist surrounding Bran began to tremble and spin, like a curtain being drawn aside.
A black-haired maid stared at him in shock, and then a piercing cry rang out.
"Lord Brandon has awakened!"
__________
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