After being interrupted by the three Lannister siblings, Aedric lost the mood to continue teaching Arya martial arts. He led the curious young girl back to Winterfell.
Since all the grown men had gone hunting with the king, and the younger ones were being closely watched by Lady Catelyn to prevent any mischief, Aedric simply reminded Arya not to mention what had just happened to anyone. Then he returned to his own quarters — better to stay put than risk running into trouble wandering about.
Well… that wasn't the only reason. After witnessing Jaime and Cersei's little "family affair," Aedric found himself suddenly uncomfortable spending time alone with his "cousin" Arya. He decided to take a few days to clear his head before resuming any lessons.
As for Lord and Lady Stark's opinions? Completely irrelevant. A prodigy like Arya was a gem that Heaven itself would punish them for wasting. If they opposed him training her, well — he could always just elope with her. The girl already had quite the rebellious streak anyway.
…Wait. Why did that suddenly sound so ambiguous?
Ugh. Damn those Lannister twins. Their filth is contagious.
Closing every door and window tight, Aedric pulled out paper and pen from his storage space and began drafting a detailed training plan for Arya.
Cultivation, when boiled down, was really just about four elements: method, companion, wealth, and environment.
The martial arts method was easy — Postnatal Inner Core Cultivation as the foundation, paired with the Ancient Tomb Sect's lightness and sword techniques, plus his own patient instruction. No problem there.
The troublesome parts were wealth and location.
Though the Stark family ruled the entire North and held vast lands, they were never particularly rich. Expecting Lord Eddard to fund Arya's martial training was a fantasy.
He did still have some gold carried over from his previous world, but that was barely enough for emergencies — certainly not enough to properly train a disciple.
As the old saying went: literature thrives on poverty, but martial arts require wealth.
Training in the martial path was expensive — truly mastering it even more so, to a near astronomical degree.
Back in his earlier world, if not for the full support of the Wudang Sect and the Heavenly Eagle Cult, along with the aid of two miraculous treasures — the Kunlun Immortal Peach and Bodhi Serpent Gallbladder — he would never have succeeded in mastering Nine Yang Divine Skill at the age of sixteen.
If top-tier martial arts in a low-powered world were already that hard to learn, then how much more difficult would Postnatal Inner Core Cultivation be — ten times, at least?
Frowning, Aedric sank into thought. He began writing a list of names in Chinese characters on the paper before him: "Lannister," "Baratheon," "Tyrell," and finally—
"Euron Greyjoy."
He drew a big, bold checkmark next to that one.
Euron Greyjoy — a notorious pirate, filthy rich, and infamous across the seas.
In the novels, he was said to have plundered the entire world, even raiding the ruins of Valyria itself, where he looted legendary artifacts like the Dragon Horn and Valyrian Armor.
The show hadn't detailed all that, but still — even if this world's Euron was only one-tenth as powerful as his book counterpart, robbing him would more than cover Arya's training expenses.
And conveniently, the man had already been exiled from the Iron Islands and had no major faction backing him — a perfect soft target.
If fortune really smiled, and Euron had indeed ventured to Valyria, then that would be a windfall of epic proportions. Aedric had always been curious about that legendary lost land.
As for finding the bastard?
Child's play. Maybe he didn't know exactly where Euron was, but he definitely knew where Balon Greyjoy was. Kill the old fox, and Euron would come crawling home sooner or later — and when he did, Aedric would be waiting to devour him whole.
Yes. Perfect plan.
With "wealth" settled, only "environment" remained — but that could wait. After all, the only place in this world that truly qualified as a blessed land of cultivation was Valyria. One thing at a time. First, deal with Euron Greyjoy. If that didn't work out, well… there was always the "Mother of Dragons" Daenerys to mooch off of later.
Satisfied, Aedric set down his pen and looked over his page-long plan one last time, making sure there were no mistakes before storing it neatly into his dimensional space.
His stomach grumbled loudly. He hadn't realized how much time had passed — he hadn't eaten since last night.
Stretching, he opened his door and was about to find something to eat when he saw Robb Stark — the Young Wolf — hurrying toward him.
Spotting Aedric, Robb grabbed his arm and said urgently,
"Jon, come quickly. Father wants to see you."
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