The air in the room grew heavy after Lord Commander Mormont's words.
Lynn walked out of the solar.
In the courtyard, Alliser Thorne and his gang of crows were clearly waiting for him.
Seeing Lynn emerge, a sneer of ridicule immediately twisted Thorne's harsh face.
He had always hated deserters, and he had a particular bone to pick with Lynn.
"Well? Did the Lord Commander prepare a carriage for you to ride to King's Landing in style, traitor?"
The brothers behind him erupted in laughter.
It was a sound filled with scorn and disdain.
Lynn ignored him.
His gaze swept over every man in black standing in the yard.
Their eyes held numbness, malice, or schadenfreude.
These men were the refuse of the Seven Kingdoms, the dregs thrown away by civilized society.
For most of them, "honor" was a laughable word. They believed only in the most primal law.
Power.
"Ser Alliser."
Lynn's eyes met Thorne's venomous glare without a hint of fear.
"You seem to have a problem with me."
The smile on Thorne's face froze, but he didn't deny it.
"Of course."
Lynn nodded.
He unclasped his cloak and tossed it to Torren behind him.
Then, he drew the longsword at his waist.
It was a standard Northern steel sword. In the pale daylight, the blade reflected a cold gleam.
"Then let's settle it the Northern way."
Lynn pointed his sword tip at the ground. His voice wasn't loud, but it carried clearly across the courtyard.
"One on one."
"Anyone who has a problem, step forward."
"I'll keep fighting until every one of you shuts your mouth."
The entire courtyard fell into a dead silence. Even the distant clang of the smithy hammer stopped.
Tyrion, leaning against a pillar on the second-floor gallery with a cup of hot wine, looked down with great interest.
This was far more exciting than the stories in his books.
Everyone was stunned.
They hadn't expected this deserter—this coward in their eyes—to be so arrogant.
Alliser Thorne's face turned the color of iron.
These words were a slap in the face in front of everyone.
"Arrogant pup!"
Thorne squeezed the words through his teeth.
He turned to the crowd behind him and barked.
"Who wants to teach this ignorant boy what the rules are?"
The crowd stirred.
A burly man with a face full of fleshy ridges stepped out with a savage grin.
He grabbed a heavy two-handed greatsword from the weapon rack.
"Boy, I'm going to smash that pretty face of yours into the frozen dirt."
He dragged the greatsword as he walked toward Lynn, step by step.
Each footfall left a deep print in the snow.
Jon's heart leaped into his throat.
Arya gripped Needle tightly, her small face full of tension.
Lynn stood his ground, motionless.
He simply watched the giant walking toward him, watching the hideous grin on his face and the bloodlust in his eyes.
With a roar, the giant hoisted the greatsword high. Using every ounce of his strength, he brought it down in a vertical cleave!
The wind howled!
The momentum looked enough to split Lynn—and the ground beneath him—in two.
Lynn moved.
Just as the blade was about to fall, he sidestepped slightly.
The greatsword grazed the hem of his clothes and smashed heavily into the ground.
Bang.
Ice and dirt sprayed into the air.
The giant, having put too much force into the blow, was momentarily frozen in recovery.
That was the moment!
Lynn's sword moved!
A flash of cold light, too fast to track.
Arya's face lit up with excitement. That's Lynn's Light Sword style!
She had seen him practice it!
Clang!
A crisp sound of metal striking bone.
The flat of Lynn's blade slapped precisely against the giant's wrist.
The man felt his hand go numb, a sharp pain shooting through his thumb web. The heavy greatsword flew from his grasp and landed with a thud in a nearby snowbank.
The giant froze.
He looked down at his empty hands, his face a mask of disbelief.
In the next second, the pommel of Lynn's sword smashed heavily into his chin.
Crack.
A clear sound of breaking bone.
The giant's body flew backward like a broken sack of grain, hitting the ground hard. He was out cold instantly.
The whole thing took less than three breaths.
Fast. Too fast!
You could hear a pin drop in the courtyard.
Shock was frozen on everyone's faces.
Alliser Thorne's pupils constricted sharply.
He knew exactly how capable Lynn was supposed to be—he was the Master-at-Arms, after all.
When Lynn first joined the Watch, Thorne had personally taught him the standard drills. He'd given the boy plenty of trouble.
How long had he been gone? And now the boy was using such strange, unpredictable light sword techniques?
Against Watchmen used to heavy, brutal swings, it was a hard counter!
The ridicule and disdain on the faces of the brothers behind Thorne had vanished, replaced by a mix of shock and wary respect.
Lynn lowered his sword.
His breathing remained steady, as if he had just done something trivial.
His cold gaze swept over the black-clad men again.
"Next."
...
Night fell.
The cold wind howled over Castle Black.
In Lynn's room, the fire burned bright.
Torren was carefully wiping Lynn's longsword with a clean piece of linen.
The blade now bore more than a dozen tiny notches.
That afternoon, Lynn stood alone in the center of the courtyard with one sword.
He defeated ten challengers in a row.
From the initial effortless victories to the end, where he, too, had taken a dozen hits, he never fell.
Whoever dared to step up, he cut down.
At first, Lynn fought with technique and form. As time went on, he fought more wildly, turning into a frenzy of slashes that terrified every opponent.
The Watchmen went from jeering to silence.
Thorne had signaled a few of his cronies to strike hard when Lynn tired, but they were stopped by a single sentence from Maester Aemon, who had arrived upon hearing the noise.
"The Lord Commander is watching."
The centenarian Maester's voice was frail, but it was enough to freeze Thorne in his tracks.
This made Thorne feel even more humiliated. The mere thought of Lynn made him grit his teeth.
The first day of duels ended there.
"My Lord."
Torren handed the clean sword back to Lynn respectfully.
"Rest early. The boys and I will guard the door from the inside."
Lynn nodded, taking the sword.
He knew Alliser Thorne wouldn't let this go.
After losing so much face today, that petty man would certainly seek revenge in the shadows.
But Lynn didn't care.
He tended to his wounds while reviewing the day's gains.
Although he hadn't killed anyone, so there was no experience points from death, the high-intensity combat had deepened his understanding of swordsmanship.
Especially how to use speed and technique to deflect force when facing opponents with heavy weapons.
[Light Sword (Proficient) 64/100]
fighting fiercely with enemies also increases proficiency!
Lynn looked at the system panel and smiled.
Castle Black was a nice place.
These "brothers" were excellent sparring partners.