The training yard at Castle Black. Wind howled, dragging broken snow across the ground. It bit at exposed skin like teeth.
One hundred and fifty rangers stood in a loose formation at the center of the yard.
Curiosity flickered across their faces.
This Lynn had been making waves lately.
Even those pulled back from distant posts had heard the rumors.
They were the Night's Watch's finest. The sword on the Wall.
Every one of them had survived brutal fights with wildlings beyond the Wall.
They were proud. Arrogant. They only respected true strength.
And now this young man was their commander?
They were supposed to line up and be picked like livestock?
What makes him so special?
Lynn stood before them.
No heavy armor. Just black leather, flexible and light.
Longclaw—the pommel now carved into a weirwood wolf's head—hung quietly at his hip.
Behind him stood his hundred battle-hardened Northern guards.
Silent as wolves. Eyes locked on the black-cloaked rangers.
Jeor Mormont watched from a raised platform at the edge of the yard.
His weathered face was unreadable.
But his sharp eyes never left Lynn.
This was Lynn's first day as commander.
His first step toward truly controlling this expedition.
"I see it."
Lynn's voice cut through the wind.
"Many of you look down on me."
"You think I'm some lucky brat who climbed to this position on the Lord Commander's favor."
"You think I don't deserve to command you."
Silence.
No one spoke. But the silence itself was an answer.
Alliser Thorne stood at the back of the crowd, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.
These men hunt wildlings for a living. They won't roll over for some upstart.
He couldn't wait to see Lynn humiliated.
To watch these unruly rangers tear him down.
"Good."
Lynn nodded, as if he'd expected this.
"I don't like wasting words."
He drew Longclaw slowly.
The Valyrian steel blade shimmered under the gray sky, ripples of red light flowing across its surface.
An invisible sharpness filled the air.
The rangers' pupils contracted instinctively.
Veterans knew. They could feel the weight of a blade like that.
"I know the Night's Watch rules."
Lynn angled the sword toward the ground.
"Anyone who doesn't accept me—step forward."
"Beat me, and this position is yours."
"But if no one can beat me..."
His gaze swept over them like a hawk's.
"Then swallow your pride and your prejudice!"
"From today on, my word is law!"
Mormont nodded from the platform. Not every ranger was as easygoing as Benjen.
With men like these, only strength earned respect.
Arrogant!
Too arrogant!
Murmurs rippled through the crowd.
They'd seen cocky men before. But not like this.
They were elite rangers!
"Lord, with respect—you think too highly of yourself!"
A tall ranger with a vicious scar across his face stepped forward.
Karter. One of the best. Known for raw power and brutality.
He grabbed a two-handed axe from the weapon rack.
"I'll show you what real strength looks like!"
Karter roared and charged.
No warning. No preparation.
Like an enraged bull.
The axe swung down in a vicious arc, howling through the air.
On the platform, Mormont's hand tightened on the railing.
Jon and Arya held their breath.
Lynn didn't move.
He stood perfectly still, watching the axe descend.
Just as the blade was about to split his skull—
Lynn moved.
A single step. Left.
The axe missed his nose by a hair and slammed into the frozen ground where he'd been standing.
BOOM!
Frozen dirt exploded.
Karter's momentum carried him forward. His body locked up for a split second.
For someone with master-level swordsmanship, that was enough.
Longclaw flashed.
A streak of white lightning.
Fast.
Impossibly fast.
Karter blinked. The blade was already at his throat.
One more inch and he'd be dead.
Karter laughed bitterly and dropped his axe.
"Lord. I yield. My apologies."
Lynn sheathed his sword and nodded.
Then he turned to the stunned rangers.
"Next."
Two words. Calm. But the pressure was suffocating.
One hit.
Clean. Decisive.
Their strongest man hadn't even lasted a single exchange.
How fast was that sword?
Who could possibly beat him?
Alliser Thorne's smirk had frozen solid.
Is this man even human?
His swordsmanship had improved. Again.
If I fought him now, I'd be crushed in seconds.
What the hell is going on?!
The remaining rangers exchanged glances.
The disrespect and disdain were gone.
They weren't idiots. Lynn's skill was leagues above theirs. Challenging him would be humiliation.
No one stepped forward.
"Since no one else wants to try..."
Lynn slid Longclaw back into its sheath.
"From now on, I am your commander."
"Any questions?"
Silence.
"Good."
Lynn nodded.
"Now. My first order as expedition commander."
"Everyone—go pack your gear."
"One hour. North gate. Don't be late."
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