These lines of text before Jon were his confidence for heading south.
Different colors represented different qualities.
Currently, the best was the blue in Swordsmanship.
As a child, Jon was almost inseparable from a sword even before he could walk.
Coupled with his childhood admiration for the 'Young Dragon King,' a Targaryen king who achieved great feats at a young age, he was incredibly diligent in honing his Swordsmanship.
At just fifteen, his Swordsmanship had already reached blue, and even within the blue, a clear hint of purple shone through.
According to Jon's observations, purple-level Swordsmanship was roughly equivalent to that of a first-rate swordsman.
However, he did not intend to use his precious upgrade opportunity on Swordsmanship.
Firstly, he could quickly turn it purple with his own efforts, and simply using an upgrade chance would be a waste.
Even a first-rate swordsman would find it unrealistic to face a dozen enemies simultaneously.
Especially since he wasn't even wearing armor.
Unless he was the legendary swordsman, 'The Sword of the Morning.'
Archery was even less viable; he hadn't brought a bow and arrows when he left the Wall.
Moreover, he couldn't possibly use a bow and arrows to kill his former companions.
As for Warging, it meant Jon could project his consciousness into Ghost's body, but during this process, he would be completely immobile.
So, that wouldn't work either.
After much thought, there was only one option—[Gods Perspective].
Simply put, this was a 'map hack.'
The difference was that Jon could not only 'see' the surrounding terrain and the distribution of allies and enemies.
If he was close enough, he could also gather some information about the enemies.
His brain would also naturally formulate the most suitable strategy.
Currently, Jon could only 'obtain' information about things within two to three hundred meters of his visible range.
However, Jon knew that once he upgraded it, he would be able to assess the current situation with greater precision and over a larger area.
Although his position was likely already locked, the encirclement had not yet formed.
He could completely find a weak point to break through.
He didn't hesitate much and directly upgraded the entry.
The next second, entries related to 'Gods Perspective' appeared before his eyes.
[Gods Perspective — Soldiers only need to charge by looking at their lord's banner, but officers need to analyze the clashes of enemy and friendly formations. However, a true commander holds the very land beneath his feet in his chest. If one can overlook the land like the gods, then with an army in hand, he is no different from a deity.]
Soon, this green-tinged-white entry turned into a deep, ocean-like blue.
Jon felt a pleasant surprise as he experienced the changes brought by the entry's upgrade.
It was as if his mind had a radar; he surveyed his surroundings, and the terrain for about a kilometer was clear in his mind.
He could even roughly sense how many people were in different directions!
'This is only blue; if it were purple, I should be able to perceive an even larger area, and the perception should be even more precise.'
Jon couldn't help but wonder in his heart, what if the level continued to increase?
Combining the golden finger's description of the entry, would he be like someone who had activated a full map hack!
On the battlefield, he could keenly sense the enemy's weak areas and seize opportunities.
If that day truly came, he could definitely become a famous commander on the continent of Westeros.
Winning against greater numbers would be commonplace.
But now was not the time to think about such things; finding the right direction to escape was paramount.
'There are six or seven people to the east, three to five to the north, three to the west... Hmm? There seems to be one more person to the southeast, is it a Ranger?'
Realizing this, Jon's expression grew even more solemn.
As the elite of the Nights Watch, Rangers were almost like Ghosts to the wildlings beyond the Wall.
Their individual martial prowess was beyond doubt.
Moreover, the opponent lacked no food, was certainly in better condition than Jon, and also had warhorses and armor.
He was now directly in Jon's path; going straight would be no different from courting death.
Thanks to his understanding of the Nights Watch, otherwise, this golden finger, if given to someone else, would have led them to their deaths.
Since he couldn't go straight, he could only take a detour in another direction.
There were too many people to the east; perhaps they wouldn't be very strong, and he wouldn't be caught, but it would greatly increase the chances of him being exposed.
The numbers to the west and north were similar, but if he went west, he would likely be driven to the sea, and his maneuvering space would be continuously compressed.
So, the only direction he could choose was north.
Breaking through to the north was like executing a feigned retreat and counterattack.
Such a tactic was inherently difficult to guard against, and Jon believed the chances were good.
He beckoned, and the pure white Direwolf came to his side.
"Ghost, I need you to scare their warhorses ahead. Just howl from a distance, then you run quickly, understand?"
Ghost wagged his tail, licked Jon's hand with his wet tongue, and then headed north...
"Jon—"
"Jon, where are you!"
"Jon, it's Grenn!"
The rough-and-tumble Grenn shouted loudly, but Pypar, who was nearby, stopped him.
"Grenn! If you shout like that, will Jon still come to us?!"
"Huh? Why?"
Pypar was meticulous; in their 'small group,' he always deferred to Jon, and he also came from a noble background.
He believed that if Jon were truly desperate, he was unlikely to seek their help.
This was all due to pride, but Pypar wasn't very educated and didn't know how to express his concerns to Grenn.
"Oh, anyway, you can't shout like that, and don't use your own voice!"
"Don't use my own voice?"
Grenn scratched his head, completely failing to understand what Pypar was talking about.
"You two!"
Pypar and Grenn turned, seeing the Nights Watch soldier with them staring at them with a warning look.
Pypar stopped talking to Grenn and continued searching for Jon.
Just as they were about to search further, someone suddenly ran over and said:
"Hurry and follow! We found the deserter!"
Grenn and Pypar's hearts tightened, and they quickly followed.
Pypar paused, realizing that the direction they were heading was north, and that was the direction Alliser was in!
Time rewound to fifteen minutes earlier; Alliser was searching for Jon's tracks from north to south.
Suddenly, he heard a wolf howl. After identifying it, he recognized it as the sound of a Direwolf!
And it was common knowledge that Jon owned a Direwolf with white fur.
Privately, he had thought about skinning Ghost to make himself a 'fur coat.'
Alliser immediately ordered his men to chase in the direction of the howl.
But a wolf's speed in the forest was incomparable to a warhorse's, and it quickly disappeared.
"Damn beast, I'll skin you eventually!"
Alliser watched the white phantom disappear into the woods, rode his horse to a large tree, and soon saw the white shadow leaping through the forest again.
The white Direwolf even adopted a provocative stance, scratching itself in front of him.
This made Alliser even more furious.
He approached Ghost while drawing his bow and nocking an arrow.
Just as he was closing in on Ghost, he suddenly felt something crash down from above, knocking him directly off his horse.
When he came to, his arms were already tied behind his back.
Alliser gasped for breath and turned his head. When he recognized his assailant, he said furiously:
"Jon! You little bastard! Maester Aemon has already written to Winterfell; you'll only find death even if you go back!"