One hour later. North gate of Castle Black.
The expedition force—one hundred and fifty men—stood assembled.
One hundred Northern guards in tight formation. Silent. Disciplined. Like a forest of steel.
Fifty Night's Watch rangers in light leather armor.
Their faces still carried traces of shock, but the contempt in their eyes was gone.
No one wanted to trust their life to some arrogant kid.
But Lynn had proven himself. That gave them something to hold onto.
Arya was among them.
Lynn had brought everyone. He wouldn't leave her at Castle Black. Too dangerous.
Behind them, sleds were piled high with weapons, dried rations, and barrels of oil—prepared for wights.
Jeor Mormont stood by the gate.
He looked at the renewed force and allowed himself a small smile.
Lynn had seized control in the most direct—and effective—way possible.
This mission shouldn't have internal problems. Not anymore.
"Lord Commander."
Lynn sat mounted, looking down at Mormont.
"We're heading out."
Mormont nodded.
"Stay safe, Lynn."
He paused. Then added:
"Come back alive."
Lynn smiled but said nothing.
He tugged the reins. His horse whinnied and surged forward into the dark tunnel leading beyond the Wall.
The force followed.
When they emerged into light again, an endless expanse of white stretched before them.
The same as last time. Bitter wind howled down from the Lands of Always Winter.
But this time, the mood was different.
Aside from the new rangers, the Stark guards showed no fear. No hesitation.
Every soldier believed in their commander.
"Lord."
Torren rode up beside Lynn and handed him a rolled parchment.
"The map."
Lynn unrolled it.
The most detailed map Castle Black had of the lands beyond the Wall.
"We're here."
Lynn's finger tapped the edge of the Haunted Forest.
Then his finger slid slowly toward the center.
There—a blank area marked "Unknown."
Lynn pulled out the human-skin map.
He compared them.
The skin map showed everything. Clear. Detailed.
And at the center of that blank zone—a blood-red eye symbol.
"Scout reports say the terrain there is brutal."
A ranger captain named Jason leaned in.
He was the most experienced of the fifty rangers Mormont had selected.
"Steep cliffs. Bottomless ravines. Our main force can't get through easily."
"That's why we abandoned scouting it before."
Lynn studied the map, thoughtful.
"The harder a place is to reach, the more likely it hides something."
He laid the skin map and the parchment side by side, comparing every detail.
Mountain ranges. The source of frozen rivers.
Seemingly unrelated details began to connect in his mind.
"Here."
Lynn's finger stopped on an unremarkable point on both maps.
A narrow valley squeezed between two mountain ranges.
"Why there, Lord?"
Torren frowned.
"It looks the same as anywhere else."
"No. It's different."
Lynn shook his head.
"Look. This frozen river is the only one in the Haunted Forest that flows north to south."
"According to old Northern legends, the direction of water often represents the flow of life."
"Maester Aemon told me the eye symbol—in the faith of the First Men—represents watching and insight."
Lynn looked at them, guiding their thoughts.
"Where would you watch from?"
"Somewhere high. Somewhere that overlooks the land and the flow of life."
Jason's eyes lit up.
"The river's source! The highest point in the valley!"
"Exactly."
Lynn nodded approvingly.
"And look at these mountain ranges on either side."
His finger traced the lines.
"Don't they look like wings spread open?"
"And this valley—like the shadow beneath them."
"In the faith of the Old Gods, winged creatures are often tied to the sky and the divine."
Everyone stared, stunned.
They'd never imagined so much information could be hidden in a crude map.
Their eyes burned with awe. Fervor.
This commander wasn't just a master swordsman. His mind was an abyss—deep and unfathomable.
Lynn smiled and shook his head.
"I can't take credit for this."
"This was Maester Aemon. With my words and his fingers, he traced every detail from these maps."
"Jason."
Lynn gave the order.
"Yes, Lord!"
"Take ten of your fastest rangers. Scout ahead."
Lynn traced a route on the map—hidden, winding through shadows, avoiding open ground.
"Don't engage any wildlings."
"Your mission is reconnaissance only."
"If you find anything unusual, report back immediately."
"Yes, Lord!"
Jason gathered his men and vanished into the snow.
"Everyone else—rest here. Stay alert."
Lynn dismounted.
"We wait for their report."
The force set up a rough camp.
Soldiers huddled around fires, roasting rations, speaking in low voices.
Lynn didn't join them.
He sat alone on a boulder, cleaning Longclaw.
The Valyrian steel blade gleamed, cold and smooth.
The weirwood wolf's head seemed to watch him silently.
"Connected to the gods?"
"Greenseers?"
"They're still human. Nothing to fear."
"Probably tied to those blessed relics."
Time crawled by.
The sky darkened.
The expedition had been waiting nearly half a day.
Just as restlessness began to creep in—
Hoofbeats. Urgent. From the distance.
Jason!
He and his scouts returned.
Every face flushed with excitement and tension.
"Lord!"
Jason dismounted in front of Lynn, stumbling slightly.
"We... we found it!"
His voice trembled.
"At the end of the valley. We found something."
"Stone carvings. Strange ones."
"The symbols—they match your skin map exactly!"
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