💎 WEEKLY POWER GOALS 💎🔥 30→2ch | 60→5ch | 100→8ch | 200→15ch | 400→25ch⏰ Resets Monday!
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The feast hall's clamor had long dispersed.
Only servants cleaning up scattered sounds of cups and plates clinking.
Night wind crept through window cracks. Lynn's room—dead silent.
He didn't light a lamp.
Moonlight passed through the narrow window. Cast a cold bright spot on the floor.
He sat cross-legged on the bed. Longsword laid across his knees.
He was waiting.
Knock. Knock knock.
An extremely soft, almost cautious knocking sounded.
Lynn's eyes opened in darkness. No surprise.
As expected. Those who should come—always come.
Lynn got off the bed. Bare feet on cold stone floor. Pulled open the bolt.
Two people stood outside.
Maester Luwin held a lantern flickering in the wind. That usually calm face now written with gravity.
Behind him in shadow a taller figure.
Ned Stark.
The Warden of the North's arrival made this small room instantly oppressive.
Lynn stepped aside. Let them in.
Ned bent to enter the low doorframe. Didn't look at Lynn. Gaze swept the room's crude furnishings. Finally landed on that longsword on the bed.
Maester Luwin closed the door behind them. Completely sealed the room from outside cold wind.
"So late. Sorry to disturb your rest." Maester Luwin's voice—like the man himself dry, cautious, yet polite.
"My lord." Lynn respectfully pointed to the room's only chair.
Ned didn't sit. Just stood there. Aura colder than winter night outside.
Maester Luwin pulled from his wide robes a scroll of parchment bound with thin thread.
That scroll pitifully small. Could almost be completely hidden in his palm.
"A letter from the Eyrie." Maester Luwin untied the thread. Movements slow and solemn.
"Sent through secret channels. Lady Stark has already translated the cipher."
He unrolled the parchment. Brought it close to the lantern's light.
Dim yellow glow illuminated the unease in his eyes.
"From Lady Lysa... Lord Jon Arryn's widow. Lady Catelyn's sister."
In the room—only Maester Luwin's hoarse voice echoed.
"In her second secret letter, she says Jon Arryn didn't die of illness. She says she has concrete evidence."
Maester Luwin looked up at Lynn. "If what Lysa says is true Lord Arryn was indeed murdered."
Fury burned in Ned's gray eyes.
"Lysa says it was the Lannisters." "The Lannisters."
"My most respected foster father murdered by Lannisters!"
Ned's voice—squeezed through clenched teeth. Every word dripping with hatred.
That suppressed, volcanic fury made the room's air scorching.
I'm surrounded by vipers...
Ned remembered Robert's words in the crypts.
He remembered Cersei's beautiful but cold face. He remembered Jaime Lannister's mocking eyes.
Prophecy. Warning. Now—all become bloody reality.
Ned looked sharply at Lynn.
That gaze—no longer held doubt or scrutiny. Only the pain of confirmed truth. And desperate clutching at a last straw.
"Your prophecy has all become reality." "What should we do now?"
"Must we still go to King's Landing?"
Maester Luwin also looked at Lynn.
This learned elder's eyes for the first time showed awe and fear of unknown power.
Prophecy. Legendary ability. And its possessor stood before him now!
Lynn met their gazes. He tossed Maester Luwin's letter into the hearth.
"My lord, you must go to King's Landing."
"What?" Ned almost thought he'd misheard.
"Go to King's Landing? To that wolf's den that killed my father?" "How is that different from suicide?"
"Shouldn't we change plans?"
"Precisely why you must go south, my lord." Lynn looked at Ned. Word by word.
"The King's Hand. Most powerful man in Seven Kingdoms. Died in his own bed."
"And the killer likely the King's bedfellow." "What dangerous position King Robert is in—you know better than I."
"He trusts you. He needs you." "At this time besides you, who in Seven Kingdoms dares go to King's Landing? Pull out those vipers coiled beneath the throne?"
"My lord, you swore an oath to your King."
Lynn's words precisely dissected Ned Stark's heart.
Honor. Duty. Loyalty to his closest friend.
These things carved into his bones. Became inseparable parts of his life.
Ned's breathing grew heavy. He clenched his fists.
But Starks going south never ends well.
His father. His brother. Answered the Mad King's summons. Tortured to death by the Mad King.
And the last Hand of the King also died in conspiracy.
Becoming the new Hand—he'd become everyone's target.
Lynn watched him quietly. Watched this Warden of the North struggle painfully between loyalty and danger.
But Lynn's mind conducted another, more insane calculation.
Ned Stark going to King's Landing inevitable.
Even if Ned didn't want to go, Lynn would find ways to make him go south.
Not Lynn deliberately sending Ned to death.
As long as Ned would abandon that ridiculous honor. As long as he'd use Northern methods to counter Southern schemes.
Then Lynn dared guarantee—King's Landing held too many opportunities.
Enough... for a direwolf to sit on that Iron Throne as regent.
Though the process might be challenging—since he'd transmigrated anyway, and the system could enhance combat power, Lynn didn't fear risks.
And House Stark would become his most important springboard. A safe haven for early development.
Relying on others—worse than being master himself.
His goal was always the Iron Throne!
Heat flashed in Lynn's eyes even he hadn't noticed.
This game—he would play. And he would win.
House Stark—Lynn's fastest path to supreme power he could currently access!
Publicly, Ned was a genuinely good man. Someone who did real work.
Privately, with Arya Stark's connection Ned would be his father-in-law.
As long as House Stark supported him, he didn't mind sharing benefits.
And he had the system.
Just give him time to develop. Let him grow strong.
Then—except for dragons and the Night King—Lynn would fear no living creature!
"I understand." Long silence. Finally Ned spoke slowly.
The struggle and fury in his eyes had faded. Replaced by resolute determination to face danger.
"I'll go to King's Landing." "I'll find the truth. Avenge my foster father."
Maester Luwin opened his mouth. He actually also wanted Ned to go south.
But entering the tiger's den—he worried for Ned's safety.
In the end—only a helpless sigh.
Ned looked deeply at Lynn. "You've done well."
"After you return from the Wall, come to King's Landing." "I'll be waiting for you there."
Finished, Ned didn't linger. Turned and pulled open the door. Tall figure quickly disappeared into darkness.
Maester Luwin placed the lantern on the table. Bowed solemnly to Lynn.
"House Stark owes you a debt."
The old maester finished. Also left.
The room returned to silence.
Lynn walked to the window. Pushed it open.
Cold night wind poured in. Dispersed the room's stuffiness.
Lynn looked at that waning moon in the distance. Hand unconsciously clenched into a fist. Then slowly exhaled white breath.
The game had officially begun.
Jon Arryn—died from Cersei and Littlefinger's conspiracy. And Lysa Tully, as Arryn's wife, still entangled with Littlefinger. Ultimately killed Arryn.
Simply put—Catelyn's sister Lysa wasn't just Arryn's wife. Also Littlefinger Baelish's mistress.
But Littlefinger truly loved Ned's wife Catelyn. And Catelyn married Ned.
Strange twisted romance.
Lynn couldn't tell Ned now that Littlefinger plotted to poison Arryn.
Ned already couldn't stand Littlefinger. Knowing this—he'd probably kill Baelish directly.
And Baelish—as a hidden player outside the four powers—Lynn didn't want him offline so early.
Baelish thought his schemes reached the peak. Didn't know a cheater had seen through everything. All Baelish's secret manipulations completely open cards to Lynn!
And Lynn didn't plan to expose Baelish immediately.
Baelish posed no threat to Lynn whatsoever.
He still needed Baelish to keep muddying waters. Convenient for Lynn to reap fisherman's profit.
As long as he could crush Baelish's schemes against House Stark—desperate Baelish would definitely provoke conflict between stag and lion.
Then—exactly what Lynn hoped for.
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