Chapter 37 - Chapter 37: One-on-One

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The air in Mormont's chamber hung heavy after his words.

Lynn walked out.

In the courtyard, Alliser Thorne and his men were waiting. When Lynn emerged, Thorne's sour face twisted into a sneer.

He despised deserters. Lynn was no exception.

"What's this? Did the Lord Commander arrange a nice carriage to King's Landing for you, traitor?"

The men behind him laughed—harsh, mocking sounds.

Lynn ignored him. His gaze swept across every black-cloaked man in the yard.

Their eyes: numb, hateful, gleeful.

These were the dregs of the Seven Kingdoms. The unwanted. Honor meant nothing to most of them. They understood only one law.

Strength.

"Ser Thorne," Lynn said, meeting the man's venomous stare. "You seem to dislike me."

Thorne's sneer froze. He didn't deny it.

"Of course."

Lynn nodded. He unbuckled his cloak and tossed it to Torren. Then he drew his longsword.

A standard Northern blade. The steel caught the pale light, cold and sharp.

"Then we'll settle this the Northern way."

Lynn pointed the blade at the ground. His voice carried across the yard.

"One-on-one. Anyone who has a problem, step forward. I'll beat you all until you shut up."

Silence.

Even the distant clang of the smithy stopped.

Tyrion leaned against a second-floor column, wine cup in hand, grinning. Better than any book.

The Watch stared, stunned. This deserter dared challenge them all?

Thorne's face turned iron-grey. Lynn had slapped him in front of everyone.

"Arrogant!" Thorne spat. He turned to his men. "Who's going to teach this fool some manners?"

A hulking brute stepped forward, grinning. He grabbed a massive two-handed sword from the rack.

"Boy, I'm gonna smash that pretty face into the dirt."

He dragged the blade forward, each step leaving deep prints in the frozen ground.

Jon's heart leapt into his throat. Arya gripped Needle, face tight with worry.

Lynn stood still, watching the brute approach. Watching the savage grin. The bloodlust in his eyes.

The brute roared and swung the greatsword down with all his strength.

The wind howled.

Lynn moved.

At the last instant, he sidestepped. The blade missed by inches and slammed into the ground.

THUD.

Ice and dirt exploded.

The brute staggered, overextended.

Lynn's sword flashed.

Arya's eyes lit up. The light sword! He taught me that!

CLANG!

The blade struck the brute's wrist. His grip went numb. The greatsword flew from his hands and stuck in a snowbank.

The brute stared at his empty hands, disbelieving.

Lynn's pommel smashed into his jaw.

CRACK.

Bone splintered. The brute flew backward and hit the ground, unconscious.

Three seconds. That's all it took.

The courtyard was silent.

Thorne's eyes narrowed. He knew Lynn's skill—he'd trained him. But this? This was different. That strange, fast style was perfect against heavy blades.

The mockery drained from the men's faces, replaced by shock and wariness.

Lynn lowered his sword. His breathing was steady, as if he'd done nothing at all.

"Next."

Night fell.

Cold wind howled over Castle Black.

In Lynn's room, the fire roared. Torren cleaned Lynn's sword. The blade had a dozen new nicks.

That afternoon, Lynn had stood alone in the yard and fought ten challengers.

At first, it was easy. By the end, Lynn had a dozen cuts, but he never fell.

He started with technique. As exhaustion set in, he became wild—frenzied slashes that terrified his opponents.

The jeers turned to silence.

Thorne had signaled his cronies to cripple Lynn when he tired. But Maester Aemon appeared, frail and ancient.

"The Lord Commander is watching."

One sentence. Thorne backed down.

It made him hate Lynn even more.

"My Lord," Torren said, handing back the cleaned blade. "Rest. We'll guard the door."

Lynn nodded. He knew Thorne wouldn't let this go. The man would strike in the dark.

But Lynn didn't care.

He treated his wounds and reviewed the day's gains. No kills, no experience. But the combat had sharpened his swordplay. He'd learned to use speed and technique against brute force.

[Light Sword (Proficient): 64/100]

Fighting increased experience too.

Lynn smiled at the system panel.

Castle Black was perfect. These "brothers" made excellent sparring partners.

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