đ WEEKLY POWER GOALS đ
đ„ 30â2ch | 60â5ch | 100â8ch | 200â15ch | 400â25ch
â° Resets Monday!
------
Dawn wind cut through Castle Black's battlements, sharp with ice.
The iron gate groaned upward, chains shrieking. A deep, dark tunnel opened before them. At its far endâendless white.
Benjen Stark sat astride his horse, black cloak billowing. He looked back at Jon. His eyes held worry and hope.
"Take care of yourself."
The wind scattered his words.
Jon nodded hard, lips pressed tight.
Benjen turned to Lynn. "Beyond the Wall, it's not just wildlings. There are... older things. Don't get careless."
Lynn met his gaze. "Understood."
The two groups split at the tunnel's mouth. Benjen's rangers headed northeast toward the Frostfangs, investigating rumors of Mance Rayder gathering tribes.
Lynn led his hundred Northmen due north. Their target: the Haunted Forest.
Arya stood on the Wall, small figure wrapped in thick furs. She watched Lynn's column vanish into the snow until even the last black dot disappeared.
Her eyes reddened.
Tyrion stood nearby, staring at the vast white expanse. His mismatched eyes flickered with something complex.
Hooves crunched through deep snow. The world was silent except for wind moaning through bare branches.
The Haunted Forest. Twisted, ancient trees. Black trunks hung with icicles that gleamed cold in the grey light.
Lynn reined in. The column stopped. He dismounted and crouched.
Footprints in the snowâdeep, hurried.
"Wildlings." Torren knelt beside him, rubbing snow between his fingers. "Less than half a day old."
Lynn stood, scanning the forest depths.
"My Lord, do we charge?" A guard's hand moved to his sword.
"No." Lynn shook his head. He looked at the twenty archers. "We're hunters. Surround them quietly. Wait for my signal."
The column dispersed like smoke, melting into the black-and-white forest. Each soldier moved with silent precision, using trees and rocks for cover.
Lynn led. His sword stayed sheathed. Instead, he carried a yew longbow from the armory. Every arrow in his quiver was coated with Maester Aemon's paralytic poison.
Soon, a small clearing appeared. Eight wildlings in furs sat around a fire. Their weaponsâcrude stone axes, bone spears. A leader-type distributed dried meat.
Lynn felt no pity. He raised his bow slowly. Drew the string to a full moon. The cold arrowhead aimed at the leader's chest.
His fingers released.
Whoosh.
A whisper of air. The black arrow streaked through the silence like lightning.
The wildling leader's body jerked. He looked down, disbelieving, at the shaft through his chest. His mouth opened. Strength drained from his limbs. Despite his vitality, he collapsed.
The others leaped up in panic.
Before they could react, arrows rained from all sides.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Screams cut short. In ten breaths, it was over.
Eight corpses bristled with arrows. The fire flickered.
[8 enemies killed. Experience +10.]
Lynn lowered his bow. "Check them. Finish any survivors. Collect loot."
Torren led guards into the clearing. They drove swords into hearts, ensuring death.
The loot was pitiful. Rotten furs. Crude weapons. Moldy food. Worthless.
"My Lord, this one had something." A guard pulled a small pouch from the leader's chestâold hide, marked with strange red symbols.
Lynn took it. Opened it. A scent of earth and herbs wafted out.
Inside: a plant's root. Blood-red, threaded with silver veins. In the grey light, it seemed to pulse faintly, glowing.
Lynn's pupils contracted. Aemon's words echoed:
"In the far north grow plants blessed by the Old Gods. They draw power from earth and ice. One is called Frostheart Grassâred roots, silver veins. It increases strength."
Lynn's fingers trembled. His heart pounded.
Frostheart Grass. A body-enhancing treasure.
No hesitation. He put it in his mouth.
The root burst with spicy juiceâlike swallowing burning liquor. Heat scorched down his throat into his stomach.
Then his body convulsed. Every muscle tore. His skin burned. Agony nearly made him scream.
But he bit down hard. Sweat soaked his clothes instantly.
"My Lord, what's wrong?" Torren rushed over, seeing Lynn's flushed face, trembling body, bulging veins.
"I'm... fine." Three words through clenched teeth.
The wild heat rampaged inside him. After fifteen minutes, the burning faded. Replaced by overwhelming power.
Every muscle felt explosive.
A voice only he could hear:
[Consumed Old God's Blessing: Frostheart Grass. Body permanently enhanced. Further consumption ineffective. Seek other blessed items.]
[Strength: 5 (4%) â 6 (28%)]
So these are the 'blessed items' the system mentioned. Another way to boost attributes!
Lynn exhaled white mist. He opened his palm, then clenched it.
Crack.
Knuckles popped. Power surged through his hand.
This place is a goldmine.
~~~~ââ~~~~~~~~ââ~~~~
The story isn't over...
đ€ Want to know what happens next to the characters?
đ€« Eager to explore the untold secrets of this world?
âïž Ready to read more of my wildest stories?
âšÂ patreon.com/DarkGolds