The dagger in Lynn's hand gleamed coldly under the gray sky.
Every gaze followed Lynn's line of sight—landing on Grenn, Pyp, and the other recruits.
The young men's faces turned white as snow.
Their bodies trembled uncontrollably.
"Grenn."
Lynn's voice—calm, yet carrying irresistible authority.
The stocky boy who'd once tried to beat Jon with his fists shuddered violently.
He looked up into Lynn's bottomless eyes.
"This dagger. Do you recognize it?"
Grenn's lips quivered.
He wanted to shake his head. Say no.
But Lynn's gaze—like two sharp blades—pierced through every lie.
He knew—if he said one word of "no"—
The next second, that Valyrian steel sword called Longclaw would mercilessly take his head.
Before absolute power and authority, any hope of luck was laughable.
"I... I..."
Grenn couldn't form a complete word.
"Pyp."
Lynn turned to another tall, thin boy.
Pyp was even worse off than Grenn.
His legs buckled. He dropped to his knees with a THUD.
"My lord! Lord Lynn! It wasn't my fault!"
He sobbed, tears and snot streaming down his face.
"It was... it was Ser Thorne! He forced us recruits to do it!"
That sentence—like a stone dropped into water—sent ripples exploding outward!
The entire courtyard erupted!
"You're lying!"
Alliser Thorne's eyes turned red instantly.
Like a rabid beast, he charged toward Pyp, raising his foot to kick.
"You filthy bastard! How dare you slander me!"
But before he got close—
Two burly figures blocked his path.
Torren and Jason.
Like iron towers, they stood left and right before Pyp.
Longswords drawn, cold blades pointed at Thorne.
"Ser Thorne!"
Torren's voice—cold as Northern wind.
"Show some respect!"
"Lord Lynn is conducting this interrogation!"
Thorne's steps froze.
He stared at the two swords pointed at him. At the undisguised killing intent in Torren and Jason's eyes.
A chill shot from his feet to his skull.
Only then did he realize in horror—
Without noticing, this deserter I always looked down on—he now has the power to crush me easily.
No!
He probably could've killed me long ago!
All because I kept provoking Lynn...
Lynn's hundred Northern guards obeyed him absolutely.
Those unruly Night's Watch rangers—tamed with one strike of his sword.
Even the Lord Commander had become his staunchest supporter!
And me?
I'm left with a few equally despised, useless sycophants.
The tide has turned.
Those four words filled Thorne's mind.
Perhaps...
I never had the tide at all...
"Pyp, continue."
Lynn ignored Thorne's breakdown. His voice remained calm.
Pyp knelt on the ground, trembling violently.
He glanced at Thorne's ashen face, then at Lynn's composed demeanor, and finally mustered all his courage.
"It was... Ser Thorne."
"Ser Thorne is harsh. He always humiliates us recruits on the training ground. Even beats us."
"That night, Ser Thorne called us recruits over."
Pyp's voice carried a sob, recounting haltingly.
"He said... he said you were dangerous. A restless deserter. That keeping you at Castle Black would eventually bring disaster."
"He told us to go to your room at night..."
"He said if any of us could kill you, he'd make us full brothers. Even recommend us as rangers!"
"The man who died... we didn't know him. He was tempted by greed and... agreed..."
"Thorne gave him silver stags right in front of us!"
Grenn also dropped to his knees, shouting his defense.
"It was Thorne! He forced us!"
"He also said after it was done, he'd throw your body off the Wall, let the ice beasts eat it, and blame everything on wildlings!"
"He said he'd arranged everything. That it was foolproof!"
"We wanted to tell the Lord Commander."
"But Thorne only spoke verbally—no solid evidence. He'd just turn it back on us."
"And he's the recruits' master-at-arms. If we failed to expose him, he'd retaliate tenfold..."
Mormont stood in the crowd, face turning iron-blue.
This Thorne is a beast!
Dared to assassinate a brother under my nose.
Lawless!
The truth—laid bare.
Every Night's Watchman looked at Alliser Thorne with contempt and fury.
Inciting recruits to infighting.
Hiring assassins against brothers.
Framing the innocent.
Every single act violated the Night's Watch's strictest codes!
Is this what a master-at-arms—a so-called "knight"—should do?
More despicable than the criminals they looked down on!
"THORNE!"
Jeor Mormont's roar echoed through the courtyard.
The Old Bear's body trembled with rage.
He strode to Thorne.
His sharp eyes burned with fury hot enough to incinerate.
"What do you have to say?"
"I... I didn't! They conspired to slander me!"
Thorne made his last struggle.
"Lord Commander! You can't believe these bastards!"
"They're in league with Lynn!"
"Really?"
Lynn laughed coldly.
He pulled a small coin purse from his cloak.
Then dumped its contents onto the snow.
Dozens of gleaming silver stags—blindingly bright in the sunlight.
"These were taken from the assassin my guards killed on the spot."
Lynn's gaze turned toward Bowen Marsh in the crowd.
"Master Marsh, I recall—all of Castle Black's financial expenditures go through your hands, correct?"
The portly steward froze, then nodded.
"Yes, Lord Lynn."
"Then I'd like to ask."
Lynn pointed at the silver coins on the ground.
"Recently, has any lord here withdrawn such an... extra expense from you?"
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