Three months.
Three months of training, hunting, scouting, killing when necessary, and gathering enough intelligence to predict Westerosi politics more accurately than any maester alive.
Leo had finally mastered the Winter Soldier's body — or rather, he had learned how to control it fully.
The instincts were deadly.
The strength was monstrous.
The speed was terrifying.
And the limits… were almost non-existent
He could push himself far past human capabilities without collapsing.
A few controlled workouts each morning showed him:
He could sprint for miles without losing breath
Punch stone hard enough to crack it
Lift logs that took four men to carry
Endure blizzards without freezing
Kill ten men before any of them could scream
He didn't feel pride.
Just readiness.
Because the political time bomb would detonate soon.
Two months until the Hand of the King died.
Two months until the king traveled north.
Two months until the entire continent began sliding toward war.
Leo had no intention of being in Winterfell when that happened.
But before leaving…
There was one thing he needed to do.
WHY JON SNOW MUST LIVE IN THIS TIMELINE
People in this world hated bastards.
They didn't care how honorable, skilled, or loyal Jon was.
In the original timeline, Jon barely survived half the things thrown at him.
In this altered one?
One mistake, one insult to the wrong lord, one blade in the wrong alley, and—
The Seven Kingdoms were doomed.
Dragons alone couldn't stop the White Walkers.
The Night King would win.
Jon Snow was the only person who could unite the living.
So Leo decided:
"If the North won't protect him, I will.
Even if he never knows it was me."
Tonight, Jon Snow would receive a weapon worthy of a future king.
THE SWORD — ADAMANTIUM EDGE
The Market System opened with a mental command.
[Market System – Weaponry]
Item: Adamantium Short Sword
Cost: 10 Golden Dragons
Durability: Nearly indestructible
Sharpness: Unmatched
Weight: Perfectly balanced
Appearance: Simple Northern style, leather grip, plain steel-like shine.
Leo gritted his teeth.
"Ten gold… damn. Worth it."
He confirmed the purchase.
A flash.
A sheathed blade lay in his hands — no ornamentation, no fancy sigils, nothing to attract thieves or jealous nobles. Just raw, lethal perfection.
A sword fit for the savior of humanity.
THE DELIVERY
Leo waited until deep night, when the castle was silent and the open cold kept most guards huddled near torches.
Jon Snow's room was modest.
Small bed.
Single window.
Few possessions.
Leo placed the sheathed Adamantium sword on Jon's rough wooden table, along with a folded note written in steady handwriting.
No name.
No signature.
No clues.
THE LETTER READ:
Jon Snow,
The world is cruel to bastards, but strength is not given — it is earned.
You have the heart of a leader, even if no one sees it yet.
One day, the North, the Wall, and perhaps the entire realm will depend on you.
This blade will not fail you.
Use it to protect those others overlook.
— A Watcher in the Snow
Leo placed the letter beneath the sword and stepped back.
He stared at Jon for one silent moment — the boy asleep, unaware of the destiny looming over him like a shadow.
"Try not to die, kid," Leo whispered.
He opened the window and disappeared into the night.
LEAVING THE NORTH
By dawn, Leo was miles away, moving south through the Wolfswood.
He had packed only:
Basic rations
A few gold coins
Stealthy clothing
A hunting knife
His vibranium arm hidden beneath his cloak
He didn't look back.
The North was safe enough now…
But the South?
The South was where the real threats lived:
Cersei
Littlefinger
Varys
Pycelle
Joffrey
The Lannister armies
And soon…
murder disguised as politics
Leo needed to build a network down there.
Gain influence.
Collect information.
Prevent disasters.
And stop people like Walder Frey before they caused the Red Wedding of this timeline.
The game had begun.