"What are you planning to do next?" After the number of people in the tavern dwindled, Old Bane finally had some time to rest. He walked over and sat across from Linde, asking with concern.
Linde thought for a moment, then asked, "Old Dad, do you have any connections in the guard of Red Lake City?"
"You want to go to Red Lake City to become a guard?" Old Bane frowned, lowering his gaze to his incomplete hand and crippled leg. In a deep voice, he said, "Being a guard isn't an easy job."
Old Bane had once served as a guard of Red Lake City himself—and not just any guard, but the captain. He had accompanied the head of House Crane to Highgarden and met most of the nobles of the Reach. One could say he had truly seen the wider world.
Unfortunately, his luck had been terrible. During an operation organized by House Crane to clear bandits from the Red Lake Forest, they were ambushed. He was gravely wounded, and if he hadn't happened to run into Linde's father, he might have died at the hands of the bandits. That was also why Old Bane treated Linde the way he did.
Although he had left his post long ago, he still had some connections in Red Lake City. Introducing someone to become a guard there was not particularly difficult.
Old Bane reminisced briefly about his past, then asked Linde, "Why do you want to become a guard in Red Lake City? Didn't you used to want to become an outstanding hunter like your father?"
"I want to see the world outside," Linde found an excuse and said. "I don't want to die knowing only White Village and the Red Lake Forest. I want to see Highgarden. I want to see King's Landing. I want to see the legendary Wall in the North. If I keep staying in White Village, I'm afraid that until the day the Stranger comes to welcome me, I'll never see the things I want to see."
Old Bane stared at Linde and said, "It seems this injury has affected you quite a bit. You've become different from before."
Hearing this, Linde felt a slight panic in his heart, but his face showed no sign of it.
"Indeed, death can completely change a person's temperament. I was the same back then," Old Bane sighed, conveniently providing an explanation for Linde's change. Then he said solemnly, "Do you think becoming a guard in Red Lake City will let you go to those places and see what you want to see?"
"At least it gives me a better chance than I have now," Linde replied.
Although Linde could also leave White Village on his own and go anywhere in Westeros, doing so would mean losing his status as a commoner and becoming a vagrant. Once someone became a vagrant, it was extremely hard to rise again. In the end, one would either rot away in some corner of a city, turn into a bandit, or—worst of all—be captured by certain nobles and sent to work in the mines, or secretly sold as a slave across the Narrow Sea.
Even climbing upward as an ordinary commoner was already difficult enough. Becoming a vagrant would multiply that difficulty several times over. Even with talent and a golden finger, Linde had no absolute confidence that he could obtain the power and status he wanted as a vagrant.
Therefore, becoming a guard of Red Lake City, getting close to the nobles of this world, and searching for opportunities among them was the best path he could think of at the moment.
Old Bane studied Linde for a long while before slowly saying, "The current captain of the Red Lake City guard is Smiling Will. He used to be my subordinate, and our relationship is fairly good. Recommending you to him shouldn't be a problem."
Hearing this, joy naturally rose in Linde's heart, but his face remained calmly restrained.
This calmness, however, greatly pleased Old Bane. In the past, although Linde always wore a cold expression, he didn't know how to hide his emotions—anyone could easily tell his mood from his face. Now, it was as if he had become a different person altogether, all his emotions hidden deep inside. This made Old Bane sigh once more at how profoundly this brush with life and death had changed him.
Old Bane continued, "Although I can recommend you, and Will will give you a chance to be tested out of respect for me, whether you can ultimately become a guard of Red Lake City still depends on your own ability."
"The ability you mean is…?"
"Come with me." Old Bane stood up, gestured to Linde, then instructed the tavern boy before heading toward the courtyard behind the tavern.
Linde propped himself up with his cane and followed closely.
The two arrived in the backyard. Old Bane told Linde to wait there for a moment, then returned to his room. He rummaged around under the bed, and after a short while came out holding a broadsword and a round shield inlaid with iron plates.
"Take them. Try them out." Old Bane walked up to Linde and handed over the sword and shield.
Linde set his cane aside, took the sword and shield, and casually swung them a couple of times. When he tried to use the broadsword according to the sword techniques in his memory, a strong sense of discomfort surged up, making what should have been simple movements extremely clumsy and rough.
Seeing Linde's awkward swings, Old Bane was not surprised. In his eyes, this was exactly how someone who had never handled a longsword before should look.
However, Linde was clearly dissatisfied with his performance. After swinging twice, he stopped and turned to Old Bane. "Old Dad, can you give me another sword?"
Old Bane froze for a moment. He thought Linde felt clumsy because the weapon didn't suit him and wanted to try another one. Without saying much, he returned to the room again and took out a knight's sword.
Like the broadsword, this knight's sword had been well maintained, with no trace of rust. Judging by the fact that the emblem on the pommel had been ground off, this sword was likely one of Old Bane's spoils of war. However, from the craftsmanship, the original owner was at most a squire or perhaps a hired knight—not some famous figure.
Instead of putting down the broadsword, Linde set aside the shield in his other hand and took the knight's sword, entering a dual-wield stance.
Seeing Linde holding both a knight's sword and a broadsword, Old Bane was stunned. Although there had indeed been knights on the continent of Westeros who wielded two weapons, those knights were all legendary figures recorded in history, each capable of fighting ten men alone.
For those famous knights, dual-wielding could double their combat power. For ordinary people, however, it was nothing but courting death.
Just as Old Bane was about to speak up and correct Linde's misunderstanding—telling him that more weapons didn't mean better—Linde slightly lowered his body. Then, the body that normally needed a cane to walk began to move swiftly under the drive of his legs. As he shifted and advanced, the two swords of different lengths in his hands slashed and thrust in perfect coordination.
Old Bane's ability to become captain of the Red Lake City guard already proved that he himself possessed formidable sword-and-shield skills. He had also witnessed many knightly duels and tourneys, so his insight was anything but ordinary. Yet the swordsmanship Linde displayed at this moment gave him the same feeling as watching renowned knights in battle.
It was no exaggeration to say that even if Old Bane stood fully armored before Linde, he would likely find it difficult to withstand Linde's dual-sword assault. He could clearly see that every thrust in Linde's technique was aimed at weak points in armor—places that were extremely hard to defend.
"Is this swordsmanship specifically meant to counter knights?" The thought quickly surfaced in Old Bane's mind.
At this point, Linde stopped. Not because he had fully displayed all the swordsmanship he possessed, but because his body had reached its limit. If he continued, his old injuries would likely flare up again.
"Old Dad… do you… think my current… ability… is enough… to qualify… as a guard?" Linde planted both swords into the ground to support his aching, exhausted body, panting heavily as he asked.
"It's enough." Old Bane calmed the turmoil in his heart and gave Linde an affirmative answer. Then, curiosity got the better of him. "When did you learn this kind of swordsmanship? Why have I never seen it before?"
Linde had already considered this question while performing the dual-wield technique. Now that it was asked, he smoothly gave the answer he had prepared.
He made a prayer gesture over his chest, then said to Old Bane with utmost devotion, "When I was injured and unconscious, I saw Our Lord the Warrior. Moved by my bravery in hunting the mountain bear to avenge my father, He blessed me, granting me a great number of a warrior's combat techniques. That's why I can wield these skills as if I were a true warrior." As he spoke, he deliberately showed a regretful expression. "It's just that my body is too weak. I can only grasp this dual-wield sword technique for now. The other combat techniques are still sealed in my mind and will only be bestowed again after my body recovers and grows to a certain extent."
Old Bane was completely stunned. He had never imagined Linde would give such an unbelievable answer—one that bore no resemblance at all to what he had guessed.
The Faith of the Seven was the official religion of the Seven Kingdoms, and the Reach also primarily followed the Seven. However, Old Bane was not a devout believer.
He had seen how corrupt septons committed vile acts under the guise of the gods' names. He had seen how nobles, with the church's support, schemed endlessly to fabricate so-called miracles of the Seven. He had even seen merchants wrap utterly worthless items as holy relics of the Seven and sell them to devout believers, squeezing the last copper from their already-poor pockets. As a result, he did not truly believe in the Seven—he merely pretended to be a follower.
Yet now, someone he knew extremely well was telling him that he had received the blessing of the Warrior, one of the Seven. It felt absurd, and Old Bane instinctively thought it was a lie.
But when he looked at the panting Linde, he began to feel that the so-called blessing of the Warrior might actually be real.
After all, Old Bane had watched Linde grow up. In these fifteen years, Linde had never shown any talent in swordsmanship—he had been nothing more than a typical hunter of White Village. And yet, the swordsmanship Linde displayed just now was something even grown knights might not possess. Such refined and powerful skill required long, uninterrupted training, something Linde simply could not have had the time for.
After ruling out the possibility that Linde had acquired such advanced dual-wield swordsmanship through normal means, the only explanation left was the one Linde had given—the blessing of the Warrior, one of the Seven, was the only thing that could turn someone completely ignorant of swordsmanship into a warrior who wielded such exquisite skills.
Moreover, the reason for the blessing was entirely reasonable. In countless past legends, there had never been a fifteen-year-old boy who hunted alone a giant bear as large as a small hill. His act of avenging his father was more than enough to be turned into a ballad by minstrels and sung far and wide.
In fact, there really had been minstrels passing through White Village who recorded Linde's story, intending to turn it into a song.
"What you said… is it true?" Old Bane asked Linde very solemnly.
"I can swear to the Seven that every word I said is true." Linde placed his hand over his chest and swore like a devout believer.
In Linde's view, even if the Seven truly didn't exist, his oath was still not a lie—because his golden finger, in a certain sense, really could be considered a blessing of the Warrior.
"Who else have you told about this?" Old Bane asked again.
"Other than you, I haven't told anyone else." Linde looked at Old Bane with great sincerity. "I also feel this matter is far too unbelievable. I was worried that telling others might bring bad consequences, so I never planned to speak of it. But you're different, Old Dad. You're the person I trust most in this world. There's no problem telling you."
Hearing this, a gratified smile appeared beneath Old Bane's thick beard. Then he asked, "That desire to go out and see the world—was it also because of this?"
"Partly," Linde replied.
"I understand." Old Bane nodded. "After your injuries heal, I'll go to Red Lake City and recommend you. But before that, you need to forge two weapons."
Linde glanced at the knight's sword and broadsword in his hands and asked doubtfully, "Aren't these two swords good enough?"
"You must leave the knight's sword behind. That thing will bring you trouble," Old Bane shook his head. "Also, if you only want to be an ordinary guard, my broadsword is enough. But if you want better prospects, forging weapons that belong to you—suited to you—is essential. A set of equipment tailored to you will make it easier to survive on the battlefield and easier to earn military merit."
Linde nodded in agreement. Although he had just used those two swords perfectly thanks to the dual-wield technique already integrated into his body, he could still feel a sense of incompatibility. If he could forge a pair of longswords that truly suited him, his combat power should be able to increase even further.
After thinking it through, Linde asked, "Can the village blacksmith make them?"
"He can only make sickles and horseshoes," Old Bane snorted disdainfully, then gestured for Linde not to worry. "Leave this to me. Your five gold dragons are still with me. They're enough to forge two swords that are at least decent."
(End of Chapter)