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A plain, unadorned longsword was brought before Lynn.
The hilt was wrapped in rough leather.
The guard was the simplest cross shape.
There were no superfluous decorations.
It was a standard issue longsword for Guards.
Heavy, sturdy, and utterly pragmatic.
Lynn reached out.
His fingertips touched the cold hilt.
In that instant, a strange warm current surged from his palm, instantly coursing through his entire body.
It was as if something long-dormant had awakened deep within his bloodline.
Those fragmented memories that weren't his own surged up again.
This time, it wasn't the fear of Others.
Instead, it was countless days and nights spent on The Wall, swinging a sword against the wind and snow.
It was the resistance of a blade cutting through flesh when fighting Wildlings.
It was the monotonous and stern reprimands of an officer.
"Hold it steady, you good-for-nothing!"
"Your sword is your life!"
These instincts, belonging to the original owner and etched into his bones, completely merged with Lynn's soul at this moment!
[Synchronizing original owner's combat memories...]
[Synchronization complete!]
[Congratulations, Host, you have acquired a new skill: Single Handed Sword (Proficient) 18/100]
[Congratulations, Host, you have acquired a new skill: Horsemanship (Beginner) 9/10]
[Congratulations, Host, you have acquired a new skill: Hand-to-Hand Combat (Proficient) 84/100]
Lynn's gaze changed.
If before, his eyes burned with the flame of survival.
Then now, beyond that flame, there was an added layer of steely sharpness.
Lynn's fingers closed, gripping the hilt firmly.
In his hand, the longsword no longer felt like a dead object, but an extension of his body.
"Let's go."
Robb Stark's voice came.
The young Wolf Lord had already mounted his warhorse.
He glanced at Lynn, his eyes still holding a scrutinizing look.
Lynn said nothing, deftly swinging himself onto a spare pony.
A group of over twenty people quickly rode out of Winterfell's castle gate.
The cold wind howled across the plains.
The group left a long trail of hoofprints on the snow-covered ground.
Theon Greyjoy rode his horse closer to Robb.
He glanced back at Lynn, who was following at the end of the group, a mocking smirk on his lips.
"Robb, do you really trust this fellow?"
"A deserter who could even break his Night's Watch oath, now saying he wants to fight for the North."
"Don't you find it laughable?"
Robb looked straight ahead, his young face devoid of much expression.
"Father told me to watch him."
"That's enough."
Theon shrugged.
"Alright, I hope he doesn't hold us back."
"Otherwise, I wouldn't mind helping Lord Ned enforce the law early."
Their conversation wasn't loud.
But in the wind, it still drifted intermittently into Lynn's ears.
Lynn didn't care.
He merely silently felt the weight of the longsword in his hand, feeling the slowly recovering strength within his body.
He knew that words were the most powerless things.
Only swords and blood could earn the respect of others.
The group followed a tributary of the White Knife River eastward.
The scent of blood in the air grew stronger as they delved deeper.
Finally, at the edge of a burned forest, they saw the wreckage of the attacked caravan.
Several wagons lay overturned, goods scattered everywhere.
The ground was stained mottled black and red with snow and congealed blood.
Several stiff bodies lay in the snow.
Their faces still contorted in the terror of their final moments.
Crows circled above the bodies, cawing hoarsely.
"They haven't been gone long."
An experienced veteran examined the wagon tracks and said to Robb.
"No more than half a day, at most."
Robb's face darkened.
He tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword.
"Pursue!"
The group set off again.
Hooves thudded on the blood-soaked snow, making a dull sound.
After pursuing for several more miles.
In a sparse grove ahead, the crackling of a bonfire and crude laughter could faintly be heard.
Robb raised his hand, signaling the group to stop.
Everyone immediately dismounted, their movements silent.
"Horen, you take five men and flank them from the left."
Robb lowered his voice, calmly assigning tasks.
"Theon, your archery is good, find high ground and cover us."
"The rest of you, follow me."
He looked at Lynn.
"You, stick close to me."
"Don't wander off."
This was both an order and a warning.
Lynn nodded, drawing the longsword from his waist.
The blade slid from its sheath, emitting a clear, ringing hum.
The cold gleam reflected in Lynn's calm eyes.
Although he came from an era of peace.
He also knew that he had no choice now.
To live better, he had to kill!
The group silently crept into the woods.
Pushing aside the last clump of bushes that blocked their view.
In the clearing not far ahead, a dozen or so ragged bandits were gathered around a bonfire.
They were tearing at roasted meat and guzzling stolen ale.
Their weapons were casually tossed beside them, their faces full of the indulgence and triumph after a successful raid.
A fierce glint flashed in Robb's eyes.
He raised the sword in his hand.
"For the North!"
A furious roar, like a sudden clap of thunder!
Robb was the first to charge, the Stark Guards behind him following closely, letting out earth-shattering battle cries.
The bandits instantly fell into disarray.
They frantically grabbed their weapons.
Some even coughed violently, choked by the ale.
Theon's arrows, too, whistled through the air at this moment.
Precisely piercing the neck of a bandit.
The battle erupted instantly.
Lynn followed behind Robb.
His breathing was steady, his heart beating powerfully in his chest.
He didn't roar like the others.
His entire focus was on the chaotic battlefield before him.
Lynn moved along the edge of the battlefield.
This way he didn't have to worry about enemies ambushing him from behind.
A bandit noticed Lynn.
This bandit was tall and had a brutish face.
He saw Lynn's tattered black clothes and pale face, and a hint of contempt flashed in his eyes.
An easy target.
He grinned savagely, raising the short-handled axe in his hand, and brought it down fiercely towards Lynn's head!
The wind howled.
Lynn's pupils suddenly contracted.
His body reacted faster than his brain.
A sidestep.
The axe blade grazed past his nose.
The force of the wind it created stung his cheek.
Now!
Lynn didn't retreat; instead, he stepped forward.
His center of gravity suddenly dropped.
The longsword in his hand, like a venomous snake striking, thrust upwards from a tricky angle.
The proficient [Single Handed Sword] skill was Lynn's instinct at this moment.
No fancy moves.
Only the simplest, yet most deadly, thrust.
"Pfft!"
A faint sound.
The sword tip precisely entered the bandit's jaw, piercing through his throat.
The savage grin on the bandit's face instantly froze.
The contempt in his eyes turned into extreme terror and disbelief.
He tried to make a sound, but only a gurgling, leaking sound came from his throat.
Blood flowed down the blade, gushing.
The warm sensation covered Lynn's hand.
[Killed bandit x1, EXP +1]
A cold, mechanical voice sounded in Lynn's mind.
Lynn felt no discomfort; instead, he felt exhilarated.
Without the slightest pause, he violently pulled out the longsword.
Warm blood spurted out.
The tall bandit, like a chopped-down log, crashed to the ground.
All of this happened in a flash of lightning.
The shouts of battle around him seemed to fade into the distance.
Lynn wiped his hand, which was slick with blood, on his clothes.
At this moment, in Lynn's eyes, there was only life and death.
Two more bandits noticed their companion had been killed.
They roared and attacked from both sides.
A scimitar and a wooden club, carrying ill wind, sealed off all of Lynn's escape routes.
Lynn took a deep breath.
His footwork changed, and his body twisted at an incredible angle, narrowly avoiding the deadly scimitar.
At the same time, he parried outwards with the longsword in his hand.
"Clang!"
A crisp metallic clash sounded.
Lynn precisely blocked the wooden club that was aimed at his head.
A huge force came through, making Lynn's arm numb.
But, it was enough.
Lynn flipped his wrist, and the longsword slid down the wooden club.
The wooden club had no guard.
"Ah!"
A piercing scream.
The club-wielding bandit's wrist was cleanly severed by Lynn!
The wooden club in his hand also fell to the ground.
Blood gushed.
Before the other bandit could react, Lynn had already closed in.
His movements were not superfluous in the slightest.
A clean, crisp horizontal slash.
The longsword cut through the air.
The bandit's eyes only had time to reflect a flash of bright sword light.
The next moment.
His world spun.
[Killed bandit x1, EXP +1]
[Killed bandit x1, EXP +1]
Lynn, with another backhand swing of his sword, pierced the heart of the bandit with the severed wrist, ending his suffering.
In just a few breaths, Lynn killed three people in a row.
Lynn stood with his sword, his chest heaving violently.
Although these bandits were not strong in combat.
But fighting three against one, the physical exertion still made Lynn feel a bit strained.
At this moment, Lynn's body was splattered with warm blood.
The surrounding bandits were stunned by Lynn's decisive combat process.
They instinctively took a step back.
Their eyes, looking at Lynn, were also filled with fear.
Not far away, Robb Stark, who had just cut down an enemy with his sword, also saw this scene.
His young face was filled with shock.
This deserter... actually killed three enemies so quickly?
Hi guys! I use Webnovel to promote my Etsy shop. Sorry if this story isn't very good. In my Etsy shop, you'll find many customized gift products for your loved ones. Please check it out and support us!
etsyshop/BHAGYSMART
Link is in my aboutHi guys! I use Webnovel to promote my Etsy shop. Sorry if this story isn't very good. In my Etsy shop, you'll find many customized gift products for your loved ones. Please check it out and support us!
etsyshop/BHAGYSMART
Link is in my about