Clay eventually returned to the dungeon.
He was surprised that Duke Stark didn't ask how he'd gotten the assassin to retreat. It seemed the Duke wasn't concerned with the details, only the outcome.
The wolf and the lion maintained a superficial peace, though it seemed fragile.
After the incident, Duke Stark issued an order allowing the White Harbor Guard to temporarily replace the dungeon guards, ensuring Clay's personal safety.
However, Ser Rodrik told Clay that he might not be in the dungeon much longer. His family's patriarch, Lord Wyman of the Manderly Family, had already set out for Winterfell with 100 knights in full plate armor.
This force posed no threat to the royal court or the Starks in Winterfell. It was simply the Lord of White Harbor demonstrating his strength and sending a message to the Lannisters.
Clay could clearly feel the respect in the guards' eyes.
Some of them had answered their liege lord's call during Robert's Rebellion and marched south. Like Duke Eddard, they harbored immense resentment towards the Lannisters.
But Duke Tywin's forces were powerful, and he had endless gold. They had no choice but to return to the icy wasteland of The North and curse their misfortune.
In their eyes, Clay, to uphold his family's honor, had without hesitation, killed a Lannister, accomplishing what they had wanted to do but couldn't. Therefore, they held Clay in high regard.
In the dungeon, Clay received three visitors: the three Stark brothers.
"Robb, Jon, Bran, what are you doing here?"
Clay pointed to the wooden chairs in the corner. The three didn't seem to mind the dirt, and after a glance, they sat down.
Clay looked at Bran's waist and knew that Bran hadn't yet climbed the broken tower.
"We came to see our hero of The North. Father wouldn't let us visit you, but the guards have been replaced by your own men, so we snuck in," Robb said, scratching his head apologetically.
The young hearts of The North were, after all, simple. After spending some time together, the three wolf brothers considered Clay a true friend.
"Father said you're a true Northerner, and so do my brothers," little Bran said cutely.
Clay's face held an easy smile, but his eyes flashed with surprise and thought. After becoming a Witcher, Clay's body was extremely sensitive to magic. However, in his vision, Bran's body was wrapped in thread-like strands of magic.
Something's not right.
The last time Clay saw Bran was at the King's feast. He couldn't be sure whether Bran had always been entangled with these mysterious magical threads, or if they had just appeared.
But either way, it was definitely wrong. He hadn't seen anything like it on Robb or Jon, who were also his brothers, so it wasn't related to bloodlines.
What's going on? Isn't this supposed to be a low-magic world?
For a moment, Clay suspected he wasn't even in the world of Ice and Fire. But then he let it go, figuring he was the biggest loophole in this world anyway, so he couldn't talk.
However, where there were threads, there was a source. Clay really wanted to know if someone in Winterfell was trying to steal his magic monopoly. No way!
He prayed inwardly that his old man would come quickly, preferably scaring the Queen away so he could quickly leave this godforsaken place. He wanted out more than ever.
"I really need to get a sigil made, it suits my status now," Clay muttered to himself, too quietly for anyone to hear. Jon asked, "What was that, Clay?"
"Ah… nothing. Can you tell me what's been happening outside?" Clay quickly changed the subject.
Robb glanced at him, thought for a moment, and said with a smirk, "Then I'll tell you, Lord Clay…" He emphasized the last title by drawing it out.
He cleared his throat and continued, "After you were locked up in the dungeon, I heard that our King had a huge fight with the Queen. That night, His Majesty didn't go to the Queen, but instead chose to spend the night with three whores from Winterfell."
Robb clicked his tongue as he said this, clearly envious of King Robert, whose hormones were probably surging. Unfortunately, Catelyn kept a tight rein on him, so he could only look and not taste, which Robb found quite regrettable.
"My father told everyone in the family not to have any more contact with the Queen's people. I also don't have to act with that mentally unstable Crown Prince for the adults anymore," Robb said, rolling his eyes.
Clay understood that those few days with Joffrey must have been one of the most humiliating periods of Robb's life.
"I really didn't expect King Robert to have such a crown prince," Jon said.
As a bastard, he hadn't met Prince Joffrey many times, nor had he directly interacted with him. But his instincts told him that the crown prince didn't have a single trace of the stag about him. Instead, he reeked of the repulsive stench of a lion.
"That's right. Joffrey doesn't look anything like our king. Honestly, I think he's more like the Kingslayer and the Queen's bastard."
Robb looked at Jon, agreeing with him, completely oblivious to the strange expression on Clay's face.
Sighing inwardly, Clay thought, That's probably the reason.
No one would take the initiative to investigate Joffrey's identity. But it was undeniable that he resembled his uncle too much. He didn't have a single characteristic of the Baratheons.
As for the three Baratheon brothers, Stannis and Renly had a very good relationship with Robert. If Joffrey had looked exactly like the young Robert and exuded the same masculine aura, the two of them wouldn't have immediately rebelled after Robert's death.
It could only be said that it was the adults who had committed the sins. Joffrey couldn't choose his parents, and his later hysterical behavior was greatly related to his mother's upbringing.
"Where's Vyra?" Clay asked, thinking of his sister.
"Ugh, what kind of brother are you…" Robb rolled his eyes at Clay.
"Don't worry, Father has already taken her into the main keep. She's sleeping with Sansa at night. Rest assured, Father will hand your sister over to Lord Wyman when he arrives."
Clay nodded. If that was the case, then there was nothing to worry about.
Jon reached behind him and pulled out a small pouch. He took a small stool and used it as a table, then took out the contents.
"What's that?"
"Hehe, take a look for yourself."
Inside was a small jar. As soon as Clay opened it, the rich aroma of wine filled the empty cell.
"Jon, Father won't allow it…" Good boy Robb instinctively frowned, then realized how incredibly boring he sounded. Besides, he was also really craving it.
The two older brothers shielded the clueless Bran behind them, preventing him from seeing.
And so, in Winterfell's cramped dungeon, the young generation of the North passed around a small bottle of wine, laughing loudly.
The protagonist being in jail is necessary for the plot. You can't just kill a Lannister and get away with it. However, I will indeed end this part as soon as possible and get the protagonist out.
Overall, I want to portray a protagonist who grows. After all, if he just steamrolls everything from the start, it's fun at first, but there won't be much left to write soon. If that were the case, why wouldn't I just make him a Gundam template, right? (laughs)
I'm very receptive to everyone's opinions. I welcome everyone to discuss plot issues in a straightforward manner. If I think it's reasonable, I will definitely adopt it, but please don't be passive-aggressive. Everyone's patience online isn't great, so please understand.
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