Fire roared within Maester Aemon's chambers.
The corpse of Jafer Flowers was devoured by the flames, eventually reduced to a pile of charred skeletal remains.
Those eerie blue eyes had finally lost their luster.
Only when the fire gradually died down did the sickening stench of burnt flesh begin to dissipate from the room.
But the fear gripping the hearts of the Night's Watch hung as thick as the fog in the Haunted Forest, refusing to lift.
"Lord Lynn was right..."
A young guard, staring at the blackened remains on the floor, spoke with a trembling voice. He was a member of Torren's squad, one of the men who had executed Lynn's plan.
"Only fire... only fire works!"
His words struck an immediate chord with the others.
"I hacked at it with my sword again and again, but it did nothing! It felt no pain, it didn't care about the wounds at all!" another guard who had participated in the skirmish added, the fear still lingering in his eyes.
"Aye! The thing had the strength of a bear! It nearly grabbed me!"
"Thank the gods we listened to Lord Lynn and prepared the torches and oil beforehand!"
Torren and his men recounted the thrilling, terrifying battle to one another.
Their voices were filled with the relief of survivors and a genuine, heartfelt worship of Lynn.
If not for Lynn's foresight, if they hadn't strictly followed the order to use fire...
Tonight, it wouldn't be a pile of charred bones lying there. It would be their own corpses.
The surrounding brothers of the Night's Watch listened in silence.
The expressions on their faces shifted rapidly.
From initial suspicion to shock, and finally, to awe.
The way they looked at Lynn changed.
This young man, whom they had once despised as a deserter, had previously won their submission through brute force. But in their minds, he had still been a deserter.
Now, however, Lynn seemed to be shrouded in a mysterious, powerful aura.
He wasn't a madman.
He was a seer.
A prophet leading them against the gathering darkness!
Alliser Thorne stood at the edge of the crowd, his face twisted as if he had swallowed a bug. He looked incredibly ugly.
Listening to the soldiers praise Lynn, hearing the hushed, reverent whispers of the Night's Watch brothers...
He felt his face burning.
It was as if someone had slapped him across the face with a boot sole, dozens of times over.
He wanted to argue. He wanted to keep claiming this was all some conspiracy hatched by Lynn.
But the cold, hard facts before him choked the words in his throat.
Two wights. Two attacks.
In one, the Lord Commander nearly lost his life, saved only by the divine weapon in Lynn's hand.
In the other, thanks to Lynn's advance deployment, the crisis was resolved without a single casualty.
The difference in competence was stark.
Facts speak louder than any words.
He, Alliser Thorne—the self-proclaimed noble knight, the Master-at-Arms of Castle Black—looked like a prancing fool in the face of a real crisis.
And the deserter he had looked down upon had become the hero who saved everyone.
This intense contrast ground Thorne's pride into dust.
Jeor Mormont gripped the doorframe, his aged face etched with complex emotions.
He looked at the wreckage of his own solar, then at the perfectly handled scene in Maester Aemon's quarters.
He knew that if not for a moment of hesitation, if he hadn't partially listened to Lynn's advice...
He might have just left the bodies loosely bound, or worse.
A wave of terror washed over Mormont at the thought.
The look he gave Lynn was filled with profound gratitude.
It was no longer the appreciation of a commander for a subordinate.
It was the heartfelt gratitude of a survivor towards his savior.
"Lynn."
Mormont walked up to him.
"You saved me."
"And you saved Castle Black."
"I owe you a debt."
Lynn shook his head slightly.
"I only did what had to be done, Lord Commander."
"No."
Mormont's tone was solemn and heavy.
"It was not merely duty."
"You stood against the tide of opinion. The fault lies with me. I did not fully believe you."
Mormont's words were branded into the hearts of every Night's Watchman present.
The Lord Commander had validated Lynn.
No one dared question Lynn anymore.
No one dared call him a deserter.
With two undeniable victories, and with two wights turned to ash, Lynn had thoroughly washed away every stain on his name.
"Clean this mess up."
Mormont issued the order to Thorne.
His tone was cold, devoid of any warmth. He couldn't stand the sight of Thorne right now.
"Dispose of these remains. Completely."
"At dawn, I am convening a war council."
"Notify all officers. Attendance is mandatory!"
With that, Mormont turned away without looking at anyone else and walked back toward his tower.
His back looked slightly stooped, but his steps were unusually firm.
Everything that happened tonight had made one thing crystal clear to him.
The Long Night was truly coming.
But the Night's Watch was nowhere near ready.
The crowd gradually dispersed.
Hearts filled with fear and shock, the brothers returned to their barracks.
But everyone knew that tonight, no one would be sleeping.
Jon Snow walked up to Lynn.
He looked at the older boy, his grey eyes filled with admiration and a sense of reliance he hadn't even realized he felt.
"Lynn, thank you."
Jon's voice was low.
He wasn't just thanking Lynn for saving the Lord Commander or Castle Black.
He was thanking Lynn for making him see reality.
"So, the Others... the White Walkers... they're real."
Jon smiled bitterly.
"I finally understand. We aren't facing wildlings out there."
"We are facing undying monsters."
"And my father... he nearly took your head for warning us..."
"I apologize to you on my father's behalf..."
Lynn patted Jon on the shoulder.
"Easy, Jon. I'm not a petty man. Your father is a man of honor; he was following the law of the land."
"Besides, I'm still alive, aren't I?"
"Go get some rest. There is much to be done tomorrow."
Seeing that Lynn held no grudge, Jon's respect for him deepened. He nodded gratefully, then silently led Ghost away.
Lynn watched his retreating back.
He knew that the future Lord Commander of the Night's Watch had truly grown up tonight.
The reason for maintaining a good relationship with Jon was simple.
Putting aside all else, purely for selfish strategic reasons, Lynn had one goal.
He intended to go out into the world, to claim dragons, to lead armies. He wouldn't have the time to stay holed up at Castle Black forever.
Jon, however, would remain here.
Being allies with Jon meant securing Jon's help. If Jon became Lord Commander, it would be as good as Lynn controlling the Watch himself.
Lynn pulled his gaze and thoughts back to the present, looking at his one hundred Northern soldiers.
They stood with chests puffed out, staring at him with a fanatical intensity, as if looking upon a deity.
"My Lord!"
Torren's voice trembled with suppressed excitement.
"You are truly a messenger sent by the Old Gods!"
Lynn smiled but said nothing.
Internally, however, he was quite pleased.
Any connection to the divine would drastically elevate his prestige.
Especially in this era, where faith was everything.
Everyone believed in the Old Gods, but Lynn? He appeared to be directly guided by them.
These loyal soldiers would now walk through fire for him without hesitation.
And this... was only the beginning.