Chapter 171: Arriving in a New World – Part 1
April 29
Braavos — Midday
The sun hung high over the lagoon city, its pale light struggling to pierce the grey veil of clouds that so often shrouded Braavos. The Titan's shadow stretched long across the outer harbor, but deeper in the city, where canals narrowed and alleys twisted like tangled rope, the day's brightness barely touched the stones. It was the hour when merchants haggled over silks in the Purple Harbor, when water dancers practiced their forms on rooftops, and when those who preferred shadows to sunlight kept to their business in the warren of streets behind the Secret Stairs.
In one such alley, tucked between a crumbling brick warehouse and a house of ill repute that had seen better days, a girl moved through the Braavosi streets like a shadow, her ragged clothes blending with the grey stone and murky canals. A pigeon pecked at something rotten near a drainage grate.
She drew her sword—thin, precise—and with one swift motion, took its head off. She picked up the pigeon by its feet and continued down the alley, her prize dangling beside her.
Footsteps echoed behind her. Three men.
"Hey, you!"
She stopped and turned.
One of them pointed at the pigeon. "What have you got there?"
She said nothing. Just watched them with cold eyes.
The three exchanged looks, chuckled, and took a few steps closer.
"Turn around and go," she said.
They didn't. One smirked, and they stepped forward again.
Her hand went to her waist, pulling the slender blade free. "Turn around and go."
"That's a nice little sword," one of the thugs said, his grin widening. "Worth a hundred pigeons, a sword like that."
All three drew daggers.
She showed no fear. "Nothing's worth anything to dead men."
Just then, a figure appeared behind her—a black elderly man in grey robes, his face weathered and calm. The thugs' eyes went wide. One turned and ran first, his voice cracking. "Quickly! Go! Go!" The others scrambled after him.
The girl turned to face her rescuer, but before she could speak—
The air above the alley shrieked.
A shimmering rift tore open ten feet above the ground, blue light bending unnaturally around its edges. With a heavy thud, a body slammed down directly onto the elderly man, pinning him face-first into the wet stone.
The girl froze, her hand tightening around her sword. One moment she'd been cornered by thugs and saved by the old man she saw yesterday at the entrance of the House of Black and White. The next, a boy in strange clothes had fallen from the sky and used her rescuer as a landing pad.
Jacob groaned, rubbing the back of his head as he sat up on the old man's back.
'System, why does dimensional travel hurt? My head is killing me.'
[Bear with it, Host. The first time you traveled, you lost consciousness, remember? This is progress.]
He rubbed his temples and squinted at the damp alley. 'What did I land on?' He looked down, realized he was sitting on a person, and scrambled to his feet. He reached down and hoisted the elderly man up by his robes. "Sorry. I fell from..." He paused, glancing at the solid stone roof far above. "I fell from there. Bad luck, right?"
The elderly man adjusted his robes with an eerily calm expression.
Jacob asked, 'System, which world is this?'
[Game of Thrones. The start of Season 5.]
'Game of Thrones?' Jacob's eyebrows shot up. 'I don't remember that show that well. I only started watching it because I thought it was about werewolves when I heard them calling the Starks wolves in a YouTube clip and saw the dead direwolf with her pups. But then I learned about dragons and kept watching. It wasn't that good. Every character I liked died of stupidity. I even skipped some seasons and episodes entirely… but this is going to be fun.'
He grinned. 'I'm definitely going after Sansa, and maybe Daenerys. If I remember correctly, at the start of Season 5, Sansa was with Littlefinger. I should find her before her wedding with that bastard Ramsay.'
Jacob finally turned his gaze toward the small, dirty girl standing nearby. He recognized the needle-thin sword and the defiant spark in her eyes immediately. 'Arya Stark. Since she's probably going to be my sister-in-law, I'm not letting her join those creepy face-thieves.'
He looked back at the elderly man, whose face was beginning to shift into the familiar, half-red, half-white features of Jaqen H'ghar. Jacob felt a cold, disgusting sensation emanating from the man.
'I feel something evil in this guy—just like that wizard Richard and the seven witches I killed before,' he thought. 'It's probably the aura of the creature the Faceless Men worship and call the Many-Faced God. But I know better that thing is just like the yeti I fought before—a demon that lends its face-changing magic to humans in exchange for human sacrifices. That thing is no god. And what they call R'hllor, the Lord of Light, is no god either—he's a demon who lends his powers in exchange for human sacrifices too. I'll probably have to fight both of them eventually. Even if I don't go after them, they'll definitely come after me when they sense my power.'
Just then, a system window appeared before his eyes.
[Quest Available:
Host can sign in after stopping Jaqen H'ghar from accepting Arya Stark as a trainee and turning her into a no one.]
Jacob thought happily, 'I was going to do it anyway. It's like they said: When it rains, it pours.'
Jacob glared at Jaqen, his voice turning cold. "Get lost. I don't like the feeling I'm getting off of you."
Jaqen tilted his head, his voice a smooth, haunting whisper. "A man has no business here. A girl belongs to—"
"A girl belongs to me," Jacob interrupted. "I'm new here, and I need a guide."
Jaqen's hand moved toward his waist, but before he could reach for a hidden blade or a poison dart, Jacob appeared in front of him in a blink and caught his wrist.
"Let me give you a piece of advice," Jacob said. "If you don't want your little cult to be destroyed, you'd better stay out of my way." Then he punched Jaqen—a simple, casual punch delivered with terrifying physical force.
The blow connected squarely with Jaqen's jaw. The legendary assassin was sent flying backward until he slammed into a pile of wooden crates at the end of the alley. He didn't get back up.
Jacob shook out his hand and turned to leave. "Come on, little girl. I don't know why you want to join those creepy face-thieves, but you shouldn't. They'll make you forget who you are and turn you into a puppet. They'll make you kill innocent people. They'll torture you and call it training. And if you fail to assassinate a target, they'll kill you without mercy." He walked out of the alley.
Arya recognized Jaqen, but she just stared at his unconscious form, then at the boy who had just swatted a Faceless Man like a common fly. She didn't know who he was or how he'd fallen from the sky, but she knew power when she saw it. And she wanted it.
"Wait!" she called out, scurrying after him. "I… I can take you wherever you want, and I can be your attendant. But in exchange, I want to learn to move as fast as you. I want to be strong enough to punch a man and send him flying like you did. That's my price."
Jacob paused at the mouth of the alley, looking back at her with a smirk. "Sure. But before I make you strong, we have to find someone." He glanced back at Jaqen at the other end of the alley. 'Now isn't the time to face whatever creature is behind the Faceless Men. Let's wait until it reveals itself. Maybe I can get a quest from the system to kill it.'
Just then, a system window appeared.
[You have completed the quest successfully. You may sign in now, Host.]
Jacob said in his mind, 'System, sign in.'
[Quest Sign-In Successful. Rewards Obtained:
1️⃣ 2,000,000 Gold Dragons + 1,000,000 Silver Stags
Note: To put this in perspective—with 1 million Gold Dragons alone, you could:
- Military Power: Fund a 10,000-man army for a full year, or hire a Pirate Prince with 24 ships for nearly three years.
- Lands & Estates: Build 160–200 decent castles, or purchase over 6,600 houses.
- Equipment: Outfit 250,000 knights in full plate armor, or buy 1,000,000 riding horses (or 2,000 high-end warhorses).
With 2 million, your financial foothold in Westeros is that of a Great House.
Exchange Rate: 1 Gold Dragon = 210 Silver Stags | 1 Silver Stag = 56 Copper Pennies
2️⃣ House Attire & Sigil
- House Name: Alexander
- Sigil: A black dragon's head with burning red eyes on a crimson field, surrounded by golden stars.
- Black Dragon Head: Represents your true nature.
- Crimson Field: Represents passion, blood, and the slaughter you will deliver to anyone who threatens your family.
- Golden Stars: One for each wife.
- Motto: "Family First." (You can always change it if you want, Host)
- Wardrobe: The system provides Westerosi-style attire for you and your family—noble cuts in rich fabrics (velvet, wool, silk, leather) dyed in your house colors. Garments are enchanted to fit anyone who wears them, resist wear, stains, and blade slashes and arrows. (Enchanted blades and arrows might still penetrate them, so be careful, Host.)
3️⃣ A Map of the Game of Thrones World: A detailed map of the known world. It's waterproof, fire-resistant, and untearable.]
Jacob read the rewards and thought, 'Nice. All three rewards are good. I still need to change my clothes, and I'll see what that sigil looks like. As for the motto, I like it very much, so I won't change it. And I really need the map. I need to learn more about this world because I really was just skimming through episodes.'
---
As they stepped out into the streets of Braavos, Jacob looked around. 'This place is like Venice.' He smiled. 'I'm going to have fun in this world.'
He took a deep breath and said aloud, "Not as bad as I thought it would be."
Arya caught up to him. "What's not bad?"
Jacob said, "The smell. I was expecting Braavos to smell disgusting, but it's tolerable. Just the smell of sea and fish, spices, and blood from the fish market. Not as bad as I imagined a medieval place would be."
Arya looked around. "Yeah, this place doesn't smell bad compared to other places." She glanced at him. "By the way, what's a medieval place?"
Jacob said, "It's just what we call places like this in my wor… in my hometown." He started walking. "Now, little girl, let's go taste the food of Braavos."
Arya scowled. "Stop calling me a little girl. You don't look much older than me."
Jacob raised an eyebrow. "Well, how old are you?"
Arya said, "I'm sixteen namedays old."
"You're lying."
Arya hesitated. "Fifteen."
"You're still lying. You look fourteen to me."
Arya sighed. "Alright, I'm fourteen. But I'm almost fifteen."
"What's your name?"
Arya said, "Ar… Arry. You can call me Arry."
Jacob looked at her. "No last name?"
Arya shook her head. "No last name."
Jacob smirked. "You're lying again."
"I'm not."
Jacob crossed his arms. "I have powers that allow me to know when someone is lying. And you don't sound or look like a lowborn girl. If you were, you'd have started calling me m'lord by now." He smiled. "I think you're a runaway princess or something like that."
Arya hesitated, then said, "I'll tell you my name when I trust you enough."
Jacob nodded. "Fair enough."
Arya looked at him. "How about you? Can you tell me your name and where you're from?"
Jacob said, "My name is Jacob of House Alexander, Protector of Women and the King of Harem..." He coughed. "Ahem, ahem. I mean, King of Serendell."
Arya gave him a doubtful look. "Never heard of Serendell. Where is it?"
Jacob smirked. "Serendell is in a place no map can mark and no man can reach. It's not in Essos, nor Westeros's ground—it's where reality meets fantasy, a paradise floating in a dark, empty sea. None enter without my consent."
Arya rolled her eyes. "Did a maester write that for you? Just say 'none of your business' like a normal person." She gave him a look. "But apparently, you're not normal. You're wearing weird clothes I've never seen before. You appeared out of nowhere from a dark hole in the sky."
Jacob raised an eyebrow. "You saw that?"
Arya nodded. "Of course I did. There was a loud sound of tearing in the air when that black hole appeared. Did you think I'd believe what you told Jaqen—that you just fell from the roof?" She crossed her arms. "How did you do that?"
Jacob said, "That's a secret. Now, enough questions. Take me to a nice tavern—or probably an inn—so we can spend the night there. I'm starving, and I want to try the food of Braavos."
Arya looked at him warily. "What do you mean by 'we'? I'm not sleeping with you. I only said I'd be your attendant."
Jacob looked her up and down and snorted. "You think too much, you stupid kid. I have no interest in you. With my looks, what kind of woman do you think I can't get that I'd desperately lust over a little kid like you?"
Arya glared. "Well, you look like a pervert to me. And you said you're the 'Protector of Women and the King of Harem.' You think I didn't hear that?"
Jacob shrugged. "I'm not going to lie—I love women. But not little kids like you. I'm a pervert with standards."
Arya's glare didn't waver. "I'll believe you for now. But if you try something weird, I promise I'll cut your cock and feed it to the dogs."
Jacob smacked the back of her head. "That's enough. I said I have no interest in you, and I won't touch you—I mean it." He glared at her. "And one more thing: never threaten me again. I hate that."
Arya rubbed the back of her head. "Did you have to hit me that hard?"
Jacob smirked. "I didn't hit you hard. That was just a gentle pat to remind you to behave yourself."
Arya scowled. "Gentle pat, my ass. I have a bump on the back of my head."
Jacob's smirk widened. "That's just to remind you to be more respectful to me. You're my attendant, remember?"
Arya said nothing. She walked to some passersby, asked for directions to an inn suitable for nobles, and then led Jacob there.
---
Jacob booked two adjoining rooms, and then he and Arya went downstairs to the common room. He ordered the signature dishes.
Soon, the innkeeper brought them Emperor Crabs, eels, beef and mutton, and exotic fruits—peaches, melons, and fire plums.
Arya stared at the table full of expensive food. "Do you even have the money to pay for this? And even if you did, you ordered too much. It's a waste."
Jacob tasted the crab and nodded. "Not bad." He looked at Arya. "Dig in. Don't worry about the money." He waved to the innkeeper.
The innkeeper, who had been hovering nearby, approached. "What can I do for you, my lord?"
Jacob reached into his pocket as if pulling out coins, then produced two gold dragon coins from his pocket dimension. He handed them over. "Is this enough to cover the food and the rooms?"
The innkeeper's eyes widened. He smiled broadly. "Yes, my lord. More than enough."
Jacob waved a hand. "Alright. You can leave."
The innkeeper hesitated. "Do you want some wine, my lord?"
Jacob shook his head. "No."
After the innkeeper left, Jacob and Arya began eating.
Arya couldn't help but ask, "You said you're a king. Do you have an army?"
Jacob swallowed his food. "An army? No. I don't have an army. I alone could kill an army of tens of thousands of men in moments."
Arya gave him a skeptical look. "You're just bragging, right? I mean, even dragons can't kill tens of thousands of soldiers if they're well-armed and have weapons against them. And you're just human. You said you could do it in moments. I don't believe it—even if you know some magic."
Jacob shrugged. "One day, you'll see how strong I am." He took a bite of beef. "By the way, you don't seem surprised about magic. Have you seen it before?"
Arya nodded. "Yes. I've seen the Faceless Men's magic. I met a witch before. I also traveled with the Brotherhood Without Banners. I saw a trial by combat between the Hound and Beric Dondarrion. I saw Beric's sword ignite with fire. And after he was fatally wounded by the Hound, I witnessed Thoros of Myr use a magic they call the 'last kiss' to heal Beric from the brink of death." She looked at him. "Is your magic like theirs?"
Jacob shook his head. "No. I don't need to borrow my powers. My powers belong to me. The witch you met, the Faceless Men, and the Brotherhood Without Banners are just humans who borrow powers from some kind of supernatural creature. In exchange, they have to pay a price—and the price is always something bad. Selling their souls, their bodies. Human sacrifices."
Arya frowned. "The creature you're talking about is their god. The Lord of Light."
Jacob shook his head again. "The Lord of Light—also known as R'hllor—is no god, Arry."
Arya asked, "Don't you believe in him? Or in one of the old gods?"
Jacob said, "I do believe in God. Just not R'hllor or the false old gods. I believe in the real and only God—the first who existed eternally before all creation, with nothing before Him. The source of all existence. The Creator who created everything and wasn't born or created. A God who doesn't need anyone's help. If He wants something, He simply wills it, and it is." He met her eyes. "I believe only a God like that is worth worshipping. That's my belief."
Arya was quiet for a moment. "But the Brotherhood Without Banners and that witch believe R'hllor is a god."
Jacob asked, "How about you? Do you believe he's a god?"
Arya shook her head. "No. I don't believe it. When I was with the Brotherhood Without Banners, they sold a friend of mine to that witch. They claimed they did it because R'hllor wanted the boy, but I know they did it for the gold."
Jacob nodded. "Do you remember the Faceless Man I just punched? I felt a familiar feeling from him—a feeling I felt from a wizard and some witches I dealt with before."
Arya leaned forward. "What kind of feeling?"
Jacob's expression darkened. "A disgusting feeling. Like they're unnatural. Evil. Every part of me was screaming to kill them the moment I saw them. It's like a primal instinct—as if nature itself wants them dead."
Arya asked, "Did you ever find out why you felt that way about that wizard and those witches?"
Jacob nodded. "I did. It's because they had a contract with a demon to gain their magical powers. But in exchange, they had to sacrifice humans to that demon. They slaughtered babies and virgin girls no older than you. They performed other barbaric rituals—terrible things I don't even want to remember."
Arya's voice was quiet. "Did you kill them?"
Jacob smirked. "Yes. I killed them all. I even killed the demon that was behind them after they summoned it. It was a horrible creature—like an ape or a monkey, but more than ten feet tall, and it could control ice powers."
Arya's eyes widened. "Do you think that what the Faceless Men call the Many-Faced God—and R'hllor—are just demons?"
Jacob took a bite of his food. "Yes. I'm sure they're demons." He chewed thoughtfully. "I'll probably have to fight them one day."
Chapter 172: Arriving in a New World – Part 2
April 29
Jacob decided to walk around Braavos after he finished his meal. He went upstairs to his room and took a look at the clothes the system had given him as rewards, now stored in his pocket dimension. There were many—all kinds of styles, for both women and men.
He chose one he liked: a finely crafted, form-fitting outfit that blended nobility with a martial edge. The material looked like dark, scaled leather resembling dragon hide, with red and golden accents running along the seams and edges. At the center of the chest sat a circular sigil featuring a fierce dragon's head with glowing red eyes, giving off a subtle, fiery glow. A flowing, red-lined cape completed the ensemble, adding a regal presence.
Jacob put the outfit on. Then he took his sword, Griffin, from his pocket dimension and hung it on his waist. He admired himself in the room's mirror. 'Not bad.' He glanced at the cape behind him and smirked. 'I feel like a superhero now.'
After admiring his new clothes one more time, he knocked on the wall and called out loud, "Arry, come to my room."
Soon, Arya knocked on the door. Jacob opened it, and Arya's eyes went wide at his clothes.
Jacob smirked. "What do you think? I look like a king now, right?"
Arya nodded. "Yeah. And your clothes look really good. I'm a little jealous. But where did they come from?"
"They appeared just like this." Jacob smirked and extended his hand. With a thought, an outfit that mirrored his design—but without the cape—materialized in his hand from his pocket dimension.
Arya frowned. "You still haven't told me where they came from."
Jacob shrugged. "I can store things in a spatial dimension. Anyway, don't worry about that too much."
He waved his hand and cast the cleaning spell on Arya.
Arya saw a white light surround her body and panicked. "What did you do to me?"
Jacob said, "Relax. It's just a cleaning spell."
Arya relaxed. After the light faded, she felt fresh and clean like never before—even her clothes had become spotless.
She wanted to ask more questions, but Jacob stuffed the clothes into her hands. "Okay, go put these on. Don't worry about the size—they'll adjust to your body after you put them on. You're one of my people now. You can't go around looking like a beggar and embarrass me. Now hurry up. I want to go for a walk."
Arya didn't say a word. She liked the clothes very much, so she took them and hurried back to her room.
Half an hour later, she returned. Jacob shook his head. "Women are all the same. It doesn't matter their age or which world they're from."
Arya ignored the jab. "How do I look?"
Jacob crossed his arms. "You look half an hour late."
Arya smiled. "That's because I really love these clothes. I don't like dresses or girly clothes. These are more to my liking. And out of curiosity, I tried to stab them with my sword, but I found out I couldn't penetrate them."
Jacob said, "Oh, I forgot to tell you. The clothes I'm wearing and the ones I gave you are enchanted to fit anyone who wears them, resist wear, stains, and blade slashes and arrows. But you should be careful—they don't work against enchanted swords and arrows. Valyrian steel might penetrate them."
He walked out of the room. "Now, let's go for a walk."
---
As they walked outside the inn, everyone stared at them and gave way. Jacob didn't care. He simply admired Braavos—the shimmering canals, the buildings, the distant sound of water lapping against stone.
Arya glanced at him from time to time, hesitating, until he said without looking at her, "What do you want to ask?"
Arya took a breath. "Why is the sigil of your house a dragon? Are you related to the Targaryens? Or are you just mocking them—like the other houses that use dragons in their sigils?"
Jacob said, "Neither. And if you stick with me, you'll find out."
Arya said, "Okay. As long as you make me strong, I'll stick with you. And once I take my revenge, my sword and my life will be yours."
Jacob asked, as if he didn't already know, "Revenge?"
Arya's jaw tightened. "I'll tell you about it when I tell you my name." She changed the subject. "Have you seen a dragon before?"
Jacob laughed—a loud, genuine laugh. 'You're talking to one,' he thought.
Arya frowned. "Why are you laughing? Do you think they're extinct?"
Jacob finally stopped laughing. "No, that's not it. I just thought of something funny." He stopped walking and looked out at the sea. "Haven't you heard? Somewhere in Essos, there's a Dragon Queen. She has three dragons. Her name is Daenerys Targaryen."
Arya's eyes widened. "Really?"
Jacob nodded.
Arya's voice quickened with excitement. "Is she the person you're looking for? Do you know her?"
Jacob started walking again. "I don't know her. And I definitely want to meet her. But now isn't the time. Right now, I'm going to Winterfell to look for a girl named Sansa Stark."
Arya stopped dead. Her hand went to her sword. She stared at him warily. "Why are you looking for her?"
Jacob turned back to her and chuckled. "You seem to know her. Either she's on your revenge list, or you care for her. Which is it?"
Arya's voice was hard. "Tell me what you want from her."
Jacob's expression was calm. "You've been asking questions since we met, and I've answered them patiently. It's time to answer some of mine."
Arya just stared at him, silent.
Jacob shrugged and started walking again. "If you don't want to talk, I'm not talking either. And you can remove your hand from your sword. That thing can't hurt me. And if you draw it, I will not show you mercy."
Arya sighed. She remembered she couldn't win against him. She couldn't even run if she wanted to. She decided to trust him. She walked to his side and asked, "Can you at least tell me if you're trying to harm her or not? Then I'll tell you my relationship with her."
Jacob said, "What if I lied to you?"
Arya met his eyes. "I don't believe someone as strong as you would lie to a weak girl like me."
Jacob smiled. "You're right. I will not lie to a little girl. I will not harm Sansa. I just heard that she is beautiful, and I like beautiful women. I plan to find her and propose marriage."
Arya blinked. "That's it?"
Jacob nodded. "That's it. Now your turn."
Arya looked around, then lowered her voice to a whisper. "My name is Arya Stark. Sansa is my sister."
Jacob looked at her for a moment, then turned and continued walking. "Is that so? Then we'll be family in the future."
Arya studied him for a moment, then sighed in relief when she saw that he didn't care she was a Stark. "If she agrees to marry you."
Jacob smirked. "She will. With how handsome I am, no woman can resist falling in love with me at first sight."
Arya snorted. "I didn't."
Jacob glanced at her. "You're not a woman. You're a kid."
Arya flipped him off. He just shook his head and laughed.
Arya said, "You said you're going to look for Sansa in Winterfell, but isn't she in King's Landing?"
Jacob shook his head. "No, she's not. I have news that she's now with Littlefinger, thinking she's safe. But what she doesn't know is that Littlefinger will betray her and sell her to the Boltons."
Arya's face hardened. "Then we need to find her soon."
Jacob asked, "How long would it take to sail from here to White Harbor?"
Arya frowned. "I don't know. It took me a moon's turn to sail from Saltpans to Braavos. I only arrived yesterday."
Jacob said, "That's too much time. But I have a solution."
Arya's eyes lit up. "Then when are we going?"
Jacob said, "Tomorrow. She's still safe for now, so there's no hurry."
As they continued walking, Jacob asked, "So, your revenge is against the people who killed your father in King's Landing, and your brother and mother at the Red Wedding?"
Arya's voice was cold. "Yes. I will kill them all. Every last one of them."
Jacob nodded. "Then you have to work hard. That's a long list of people to kill."
Arya said, "It is. So when are you going to teach me?"
Jacob smiled. "When your sister says yes to marrying me. So you should help me convince her."
Arya smirked. "That won't be hard. Her head is filled with love and girly dreams—at least, that's how I remember her. She was obsessed with songs and romantic stories. She trained her whole life to be a good wife, and maybe a queen. You just need to show her that you're strong and wealthy, and she'll be willing to marry you."
Jacob's expression grew thoughtful. "She's probably changed from the girl you remember. After all, she had to survive alone in King's Landing for years, surrounded by her enemies."
Arya sighed. "You're right. I've changed too."
With that, Arya fell silent, probably thinking about the past. Jacob didn't bother her. They walked around Braavos until nightfall, watching the lights flicker on across the canals, listening to the distant songs of sailors and the soft lapping of water.
Then they headed back to the inn. After eating, they went upstairs, each to their own room, and slept.
Chapter 173: Across the Narrow Sea
May 1
Jacob woke up the next morning. He cast a cleaning spell on himself, feeling instantly fresh, put on his clothes, then woke Arya in the next room. They both had breakfast and left the inn.
As they walked through Braavos' winding streets, Jacob thought, 'Should I fly to White Harbor? Use my water control? Summon Saphira or Iara (the wyrm)?' He shook his head. 'No. If I summon Saphira or Iara, the girls will notice and want to come too. But it's not time yet—not until I've met Sansa.'
Just then, a system notification appeared before his eyes.
[Location Sign-In Available.
Host can sign in after standing on top of the Titan of Braavos.]
Jacob's eyes lit up. He placed his hand on Arya's head beside him, and they both vanished—scaring the nearby people, who looked around in panic.
Jacob and Arya appeared on top of the Titan's head.
Arya screamed and hugged Jacob's arm tightly. "AAAAHHH! What happened? How did we get here?"
Jacob looked down at her with a smirk. "I thought you were fearless. But you're just a scared little girl."
Arya's grip didn't loosen. "Is this your magic?"
Jacob said, "It's one of my abilities. It's called teleportation."
Arya's eyes widened. "Can you teach it to me?"
Jacob shook his head. "No. This can't be taught."
Arya didn't press. She looked around—at the endless sea, at the sprawling city below—and breathed, "I can see the whole city from here."
Jacob focused on the system. 'System, sign in.'
[Location Sign-In Successful. Rewards Obtained:
1️⃣ Flying Carpet (Aladdin – Non-Sentient Variant): A woven, tasseled flying carpet that operates via mental command. The user thinks a direction—up, down, forward, stop, left, right—and the carpet responds instantly. Can grow or shrink to hold one passenger or multiple. Flies at impressive speeds. Silent in flight. Completely unbreakable and indestructible—cannot be torn, burned, cut, soaked, or damaged. Can only be controlled mentally by you, Host, and people who share your soul bond.
2️⃣ The Emberheart Bow: An indestructible legendary recurve bow carved from the bone of a true dragon. Without bonding with it, the bow is impossible to draw. Once bonded, the user can create arrows made from their own elemental powers—fire, ice, lightning, wind, or any other elemental ability they possess. These elemental arrows strike with triple the normal power of the user's base elemental attack.
3️⃣ Skinchanging (Game of Thrones): The ability to enter the mind of an animal or human, perceiving the world through their senses and controlling their body completely. The stronger the user, the more animals—and even humans—they can control simultaneously.
Note: While skinchanging, the user's physical body becomes completely catatonic—unmoving, unresponsive, totally vulnerable. If the animal body is killed while the user is inside, the user's consciousness dies with it. Cannot control beings with stronger wills than their own.]
Jacob read the first reward.' Nice. I'll use the flying carpet to cross the sea.' He read the second reward and thought, 'That bow is a good weapon, but it's not for me. It's more suitable for Allison.'
He read the last reward and frowned. 'That's not an ability—that's a liability. Even Melissa has a better version; she can control animals without being catatonic and totally vulnerable, and she doesn't die if the animal is killed while she's controlling it.' He addressed the system. 'System, exchange that waste of an ability for coins.'
[You can sell the Skinchanging ability back to the system for one million coins, Host. Do you wish to proceed?]
Jacob's eyes narrowed. 'Hold up. Why is it so cheap? I remember selling you Naruto's perverted technique for ten million.'
The system sounded again in his head. [Do you wish to proceed, Host?]
'You're ignoring my question,' Jacob thought, a smirk tugging at his lips. 'But it's good to hear your voice again, Nex. And yes, proceed.'
[Transaction complete. One million coins have been added to your balance. And I prefer you call me System, Host.]
'Fine, fine. Just don't give me the silent treatment again. I really missed your voice these past two months.'
---
Jacob pulled the flying carpet from his pocket dimension and enlarged it enough to carry him and Arya comfortably. He stepped onto it and sat down. "Arya, let's go."
Arya, who had been staring with her jaw wide open at the hovering carpet, finally snapped back to her senses. She climbed onto the carpet and sat next to Jacob. She didn't ask any questions—she was already getting used to Jacob's magical powers.
Jacob took out the map of the Game of Thrones world that the system had rewarded him. He felt an immediate connection to it, and with a thought, he communicated with the map.
He thought about going to White Harbor.
A blue route line appeared on the map, stretching from Braavos to White Harbor, with a location indicator showing Jacob's position.
'This map is more useful than I thought,' Jacob mused.
He pulled out two pairs of sunglasses and handed one to Arya. "Put these on."
Arya took the sunglasses and looked at them, puzzled. "What are these?"
Jacob said, "They're to protect your eyes from the wind while we fly. They're called sunglasses. You put them on like this." He demonstrated, slipping his own pair on.
Arya put hers on and saw the world in a darker shade. She smiled. "Cool."
Jacob smiled as he watched Arya look around with a childish grin on her face. "Alright, hold onto me and be careful you don't fall."
Arya hugged his arm. With a mental command, Jacob made the carpet lift off and fly toward White Harbor, following the route line on the map.
Jacob made the carpet fly slowly, letting Arya enjoy the view.
As they flew high above the Narrow Sea, Jacob asked, "Tell me, Arya, do you know what kind of creatures live in this sea? I don't mean fish—I mean creatures like dragons."
Arya shook her head. "No, I don't know. But I heard stories from Old Nan back in Winterfell." A wistful smile appeared on her face. "She used to tell us about sea monsters—krakens and sea dragons. But those are just myths. I mean, maybe the sea dragons are real, but no one has ever seen a kraken before. I loved Old Nan's stories. My dream was to see all the things in her stories—but the only thing I ever saw from them was the Titan of Braavos."
Jacob asked, "Didn't you ever see a direwolf? After all, they are the sigil of your house."
Arya's smile softened. "Oh, I did. I even had one of my own. Nymeria was her name. I wonder if she's still okay."
Jacob said, "What happened to her?"
Arya's expression darkened. "I let her go near the Trident river on the road from Winterfell to King's Landing. Nymeria bit Joffrey to defend me during a fight. Knowing Cersei would have her killed as punishment, I forced Nymeria to run away. I even had to throw rocks at her to make her leave—so she wouldn't follow us back to the camp." She sighed. "She must hate me."
Jacob rubbed her head gently. "No, she doesn't hate you. You let her go to protect her, and she must have felt that. How about we look for her when we save Sansa?"
Arya nodded. "Okay. But what are you going to do about the Boltons?"
Jacob thought for a moment, then smiled. "First, we save Sansa. Then I plan to go to the Wall. There's a Free Folk army there waiting for me to conquer. I can't be a king without an army, can I? Even though I don't need them. After that, we will deal with the Boltons."
Arya frowned. "Free Folk? You mean Wildlings."
Jacob said, "They call themselves the Free Folk, Arya."
Arya's voice was doubtful. "But they're savages. Bloody-minded giants, slavers, even cannibals—who drink blood out of polished skulls."
Jacob shook his head. "Those are just scary bedtime stories. Sure, there are bad clans among them—cannibals even. But most of them are good people. Better than the people of Westeros, in fact. They're just trying to survive in frozen, barren lands and protect their people from the White Walkers."
Arya's eyes widened. "Are White Walkers real?"
Jacob nodded. "Yes. They're very much real. They have a massive army called the Army of the Dead. They have mindless wights as foot soldiers, reanimated giants and animals for brute force, and White Walker generals who command them with magical ice blades. All led by the strongest of them all—the Night King. The Army of the Dead's goal is to destroy all life."
Arya paled. Her hands trembled slightly.
Jacob smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry too much. For me and my family, those things are just an army of weaklings waiting for us to play with. But that's for later. Right now, I want to meet your sister."
Arya asked, "Are all the members of your family as strong as you?"
Jacob said, "Not as strong as me, but they're all powerful—especially my wives."
Arya's eyebrows shot up. "Wives? You have more than one..." She stopped. "Oh, I forgot. You said you're the King of the Harem."
Jacob laughed. "One of them is actually like you—a tomboy. She hates women's clothes. She cut her hair short. She likes to fight and kill. I think you two will get along and become very close friends."
Arya's eyes sparkled. "Then I'm looking forward to meeting her."
Jacob said, "Alright. I'm going to use more speed." He waved his hand, and a telekinetic shield surrounded the flying carpet. Then, with a thought, he pushed the carpet to its full speed.
The carpet accelerated instantly, breaking the sound barrier and reaching Mach 2.
Arya screamed and closed her eyes. "AAAAHHH! Too fast, too fast! We're going to die!"
Jacob laughed. "Relax. We're totally safe. You can open your eyes."
Arya opened her eyes but still clung to Jacob's arm like her life depended on it. Slowly, as they raced across the sky, she relaxed and began to enjoy the flight.
Jacob said to the system, 'System, daily sign-in.'
[Daily Sign-In Successful. Rewards Obtained:
1️⃣ 80,000 coins
2️⃣ Hot Dogs x100
3️⃣ Tinderbox: A small steel box containing flint, steel striker, and charcloth. Starts a fire in any weather with a few sparks.]
Jacob read the rewards. 'At least the hot dogs are good.'
He pulled out a few hot dogs and handed two to Arya. Then he took out two Fanta cans. He started to hand her one, then paused. "Wait—you're not feeling sick, are you? Like you want to vomit?"
Arya shook her head. "No."
Jacob smiled. "Good." He handed her the can.
Arya looked at the can, turning it over in her hands. "What is this?"
Jacob showed her the tab. "You pull this little ring here. Watch." He opened his own can with a crisp hiss.
Arya copied him, jumping slightly at the sound. She peered inside at the bubbling liquid, then sniffed it cautiously.
"It's called soda," Jacob said. "Go ahead. Take a sip."
Arya took a small sip. Her eyes went wide. "It's… sweet. And bubbly. It tickles my tongue."
Jacob grinned. "That's the carbonation. Do you like it?"
Arya took a longer drink, then nodded vigorously. "Yes. Very much."
"Now try the hot dog," Jacob said, biting into his own. "And before you ask—it's just what it's called. There's no dog meat in it. It's beef."
Arya examined the hot dog—the soft bun, the sausage inside. She took a bite. Chewed. Her expression shifted from curiosity to delight.
"This is amazing," she said, her mouth still half-full.
She finished her two hot dogs in four more bites and immediately asked, "Can I have another?"
Jacob laughed and handed her two more. She ate them just as quickly, washing each bite down with Fanta, a look of pure bliss on her face.
---
They reached White Harbor in an hour. Jacob didn't land—he flew the carpet straight past the city.
Arya looked down. "Where are we going now?"
Jacob said, "Moat Cailin. We'll meet Sansa there before she goes to Winterfell." He smirked and glanced at Arya. "Littlefinger is with her. You can have him. But don't give him a quick death. Make him beg first. Make him feel hopeless before you end his miserable life."
Arya's expression hardened. "I'm not clear on what part he played in my father's death—or if he was even involved."
Jacob's smirk didn't fade. "Oh, he had everything to do with your father's death. He planned it."
Arya's voice was sharp. "How do you know?"
Jacob said, "Let's just say it's one of my powers. I know things. If you don't believe me, you can ask him yourself when we meet him."
Arya studied him for a moment. "Why do you hate him so much? Did he do something to you or your family?"
Jacob shook his head. "No. I've never met the man. I just hate people like him. Politicians."
Arya frowned. "What are politicians?"
Jacob's voice was cold. "Schemers who will do anything to reach their goals."
---
It took them only three minutes to reach the ancient, ruined fortress of Moat Cailin. They landed inside its crumbling walls.
Jacob looked around at the overgrown stones and broken towers. "Now we wait. Your sister should appear any day now." He smiled. "But let's get comfortable."
He found a relatively flat, open area inside the fortress and pulled the capsule house from his pocket dimension. He tossed it.
The capsule hit the ground with a soft thunk—and exploded outward in a cloud of white smoke. When the smoke cleared, a beautiful two-story house stood in the middle of the ancient ruins.
Arya, despite all the abilities and wonders Jacob had already shown her, stood frozen, her mouth hanging open. "It… it came from nowhere."
Jacob smiled. "Let's go inside."
He led her into the house. For the next couple of hours, he showed her around—the living room, the kitchen, the bedrooms, the bathroom. He explained how the lights worked, how the refrigerator kept food cold, what the television was for.
Arya listened, fascinated, touching everything, asking endless questions. Jacob answered each one patiently, watching as the hard-faced girl slowly began to look like a child again.
Chapter 174: Swamp Puppies
May 3
Arya woke up in her bedroom in Jacob's capsule house. She rubbed her eyes, climbed out of bed, and made her way downstairs. The first floor was empty, but breakfast waited for her on the table: a bowl of cereal, sausage and eggs, toast, and chocolate muffins.
She turned on the TV and watched Tom and Jerry, laughing as she ate. When she finished, she went outside to look for Jacob.
She searched the ruined fortress until she heard a loud, deep roar. She followed the sound and found Jacob outside the large front gate, playing with three massive alligators—the creatures her world called lizard-lions.
She stood at the gate, her mouth hanging open, her eyes wide. Jacob was dominating the three beasts with an easy smile on his face. Two of them performed tricks fearfully—one stood on its hind legs, the other cowered while rolling over, both showing clear terror with lowered heads and submissive postures. A much larger, more aggressive lizard-lion was desperately trying to escape, roaring with its mouth wide open, claws deeply dug into the muddy ground, its body straining forward. Jacob had casually grabbed it by the thick tail with one hand, effortlessly holding it back as the creature thrashed, kicking up dirt and splashing muddy water.
Arya finally found her voice. She called out from the gate, not daring to get closer. "Jacob! What are you doing?"
Jacob turned to her. "Oh, Arya, you're awake. I was bored. We've been waiting for Sansa for three days now, and she still hasn't arrived. So I went for a walk and made some new friends."
Arya stared at the massive reptiles. "Friends? You're calling lizard-lions friends?"
Jacob shrugged. "Yeah. They tried to eat me first, so I had to give them a little beating. Now we're friends." He glanced at the largest one. "Well, except for Bowser. He's still trying to run away."
Jacob released the tail of the larger lizard-lion, teleported above its head, and kicked it hard—driving its head deep into the mud. He landed in front of the dazed creature and released a tiny fraction of his dragon aura.
"People in Florida say that gator meat tastes like chicken," he said calmly. "So behave yourself, or I don't mind making some gator nuggets out of you."
The large lizard-lion shivered and lay still, ceasing all resistance.
Jacob smiled. "Good. Now roll over."
The lizard-lion seemed to understand. It rolled over.
Jacob smirked. "Good boy."
He looked at Arya. "Arya, do you want to play with these swamp puppies?" He pointed at each one in turn. "This is Bowser. The one standing is Leatherhead. And the one playing dead is Wally Gator. Don't worry—they won't hurt you."
Arya shook her head firmly. "No. I'm good."
Jacob shrugged and pulled out some Sker Buffalo meat. He tossed it to the three lizard-lions. "Eat. And don't fight."
The three creatures—even the one playing dead—ate the meat. Then they all stood on their hind legs, rolled around, and lay submissively in front of Jacob, looking up at him with longing eyes.
Jacob laughed. "You guys are very smart."
He took out more Sker Buffalo meat and fed them, then walked back to Arya. The three large lizard-lions followed him and lay down a few meters away, like well-behaved giant puppies.
Arya stared at Jacob. "Just how strong are you?"
Jacob winked. "You'll find out one day."
Arya let it go. "By the way, are you sure Sansa isn't already in Winterfell?"
Jacob glanced at the system notification that had appeared when he woke up.
[System Notification]
[Quest Sign-In Available: Host can sign in after saving Sansa Stark from her tragic marriage to Ramsay Bolton by stopping Petyr Baelish from taking her back to Winterfell.
You can meet her at Moat Cailin.
Time remaining for Sansa to arrive at Moat Cailin: 31 hours.]
He dismissed the notification. "I'm sure. She'll pass through here today or tomorrow at the latest."
He looked at Arya for a long moment, his expression thoughtful. 'I've been with her for four days now. She's mature beyond her age—but a life like hers will do that to a person. Still, sometimes she forgets herself and acts like a normal fourteen-year-old girl. And I remember from the show that she's fiercely loyal. I think I can trust her. It's time to make her strong.'
Arya caught his gaze. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
Jacob drew his sword. "Stand in front of me."
Arya wasn't afraid. She stepped forward and stood before him. "Do you finally want to teach me?"
Jacob shook his head. "No. I want to knight you. Are you willing to be my Kingsguard? You only need to swear loyalty to me. I will not restrict you if you want to hold land, marry, or have children. And you can keep calling me by my name—no need for 'Your Grace' or 'my king.'"
Arya asked, "What about my revenge?"
Jacob said, "You can still have your revenge."
Arya pressed, "And will you teach me to become strong?"
Jacob met her eyes. "I will make you strong."
Arya nodded. "Then I agree." She started to kneel, but Jacob stopped her.
"Don't kneel to me. I don't like that."
Arya straightened. "I swear to be loyal to you."
Jacob raised his sword and placed the flat of the blade against her right shoulder, then her left. He lowered the sword and looked her in the eye.
"Arya of House Stark," he said solemnly, "from now on, you are one of my people. A knight of Serendell. And my Kingsguard."
A flicker of pride appeared in Arya's eyes. But she smirked and said, "I know you're inhumanly strong. But I'm not so sure you're a real king."
Jacob sheathed his sword and smiled. "Oh, you want proof?"
Arya nodded, still smiling.
Jacob's smile turned dangerous. Then, to Arya's sudden terror, he released a fraction of his dragon aura. His eyes glowed red, vertical slit pupils cutting through the crimson, and he let out a low rumbling growl that vibrated inside her chest before she even heard it. When he spoke, his voice was deep and monstrous.
"This is your proof, Arya. So never betray me. Because if you do, I will not show you mercy."
The three lizard-lions nearby whimpered and shivered in fear. Arya's legs gave out, and she fell to the ground. But despite her terror, she stubbornly raised her head and looked Jacob in the eyes.
"I swear I will never betray you," she said, her voice shaking but firm. "I'm not a traitor. I never will be."
Jacob's eyes returned to normal. He restrained his aura and extended a hand to help her up. He smiled and winked. "Sorry about that. But you asked for it."
Arya took a deep breath, calming her still-racing heart. "What exactly are you? Are you even human?"
Jacob said, "Yes, I am human. Well… kind of. Tell me, Arya, do you know about shapeshifters? I don't mean people who can enter the minds of animals—I mean people who can turn into animals."
Arya nodded. "Yes. But that's just a myth. People used to say my brother Robb could turn into a wolf, but that wasn't true."
Jacob said, "Where I'm from, creatures like that are real. They can turn into wolves, lions, birds. Some of them can control fire and lightning. Krakens are real. Wyrms are real. All kinds of supernatural creatures are real." He paused. "And I am a supernatural creature too."
Arya asked, "What kind?"
Jacob rubbed her head. "It's better to show you. So let me keep some mystery. Wait until that day comes."
Arya persisted. "But can you tell me where you're from?"
Jacob met her eyes. "I'm from another world."
Arya's eyebrows rose. "Like the Lord of the Rings movie we watched yesterday?"
Jacob shook his head. "No. That was a story from another world called Middle-earth. My world is like the world of Tom and Jerry. We have cars and advanced technology. I'll take you there one day to visit."
He pulled out a vial of Mirakuru and held it up. "Now, as my first knight, you can't go around being a weakling and embarrassing me. It's time to make you stronger."
He handed her the vial. "Go to the bathroom and lie down in the tub. Drink this potion. It will make you strong and give you superhealing. Your body will become hot, and you'll sweat a lot during the process. Once your body finishes absorbing it, come out, and I'll spar with you to help you get used to your new strength."
Arya took the vial and examined the green liquid inside. "What's superhealing?"
Jacob explained, "Your wounds will heal in seconds. Broken bones will mend in a minute or two. You'll never get sick again." He held up a finger. "But you can still be poisoned, so be careful."
Arya nodded and headed back to the capsule house. She went to the bathroom, removed her clothes, and drank the Mirakuru.
Her body grew warm. Her skin flushed red. She began to sweat—but felt no pain.
Jacob waited outside. He pulled a chair from his pocket dimension, sat down, and thought, 'System. Sign in.'
[Daily sign-in successful. Rewards obtained:
1️⃣ 5 coins
2️⃣ New York-style pizza x 60
3️⃣ Zatanna Zatara's stockings—still warm. She just took them off after a performance. Enjoy, Host.]
Jacob shook his head. 'Again with the perverted rewards. How many times have I told you? I'm not into women's dirty underwear. And I can't even sell it back to you since it's just a daily reward.'
He sighed, took the stockings from his pocket dimension without touching them, and shot a fireball from his hand, burning them to ash. Then he pulled out a pizza box from his pocket dimension and started eating.
After finishing the pizza, he burned the box and began playing on his Game Boy, waiting for Arya to finish absorbing the potion.
Chapter 175: A King Worth Following
May 3
It took two hours for Arya's body to absorb the Mirakuru completely.
She clenched her fist, feeling her immense new strength. Then she tried to get out of the bathtub—but used too much force and ended up crashing face-first into the wall.
She rubbed her nose. "Ouch. That hurt."
She dressed carefully, walking slowly and deliberately, trying not to use too much force until she got outside the capsule house.
Once outside, she grinned and used her new super-speed to rush to Jacob.
Jacob was playing his Game Boy when he heard someone running toward him. He looked up and saw a blur heading fast in his direction. He smiled, put the Game Boy in his pocket dimension, and Arya crashed into him, hugging him tightly.
"Thank you," she said, her voice muffled against his chest. "Thank you so much for making me strong."
Jacob patted her back. "You're welcome."
After a moment, Arya let him go. She drew her sword and smiled. "Okay. Let's spar."
Jacob shook his head. "Put that away. I have a sword, but I don't know any fancy sword moves. I only know how to use it to kill. Let's spar without weapons so you can learn to control your new strength."
Arya sheathed her sword. "Okay." Then she attacked.
Jacob grinned and punched her hard, sending her crashing into the fortress's brick wall. The impact knocked the air from her lungs.
Arya stood up and grinned. She didn't complain or show fear. She charged again. And again. Jacob didn't go easy on her. He beat her badly—even breaking one of her arms. But Arya didn't scream. She just hissed, watched her arm heal in less than a minute with excitement, and kept attacking.
After two hours, Arya finally lay on the wet, muddy ground, beaten and breathing heavily—but still smiling.
Then she started crying. She began reciting names.
"Cersei Lannister. Walder Frey. The Mountain. Meryn Trant." She repeated them, over and over, her voice cracking. "Cersei Lannister. Walder Frey. The Mountain. Meryn Trant. Cersei Lannister. Walder Frey. The Mountain. Meryn Trant." She looked at the grey sky, tears streaming down her face. "Now I have the strength to kill you all."
Jacob crouched down beside her. "Is that your revenge list?"
Arya wiped her eyes and sat up. "Yes."
Jacob asked, "What about Roose Bolton? I heard he killed your brother Robb."
Arya's jaw tightened. "He's on my list too."
Jacob nodded. "Let's start with Littlefinger first. Then, after we go to the Wall, take over Castle Black, and conquer the Free Folk, I'll call my family, and we'll take back Winterfell together."
Arya looked at him. "With your strength, do you really need an army? I could probably take Winterfell alone with my new strength now. And you're way stronger than me."
Jacob smirked. "It's not about taking Winterfell back. It's about having fun. I want to command an army. My family will definitely want to have fun and participate in a medieval-style war. If I used my full strength, I could take Winterfell and become the new king of the Seven Kingdoms in a day. But that would be boring. I want to have a large army. I want to play with those arrogant nobles. I want to lead an army and fight in wars. I don't get to do that in my world."
Arya smiled. "That sounds fun. I'm in." She paused. "By the way, is your end goal the Iron Throne?"
Jacob thought for a moment. "I'm not sure yet. Being the king of the poor and miserable people of Westeros is a lot of responsibility. It sounds like a lot of work. I'd have to take care of millions of people." He shrugged. "Let's wait until my family gets here. Then I'll decide. But I'll probably go for the Iron Throne and become a hands-off king."
Just then, Jacob tilted his head and closed his eyes, focusing on listening.
Arya tensed. "What's wrong?"
Jacob held up a hand. "Shush."
He listened for a full minute, then opened his eyes and looked north. "About eight or nine miles that way. A company of about two hundred Bolton men is heading our way."
Arya's eyes widened. "How do you know?"
Jacob pointed at his ears. "Superhearing."
Arya didn't panic. "What should we do?"
Jacob shrugged. "They won't be here for another three hours. Let's wait for them." His voice turned cold. "The Boltons are famous for their ancient practice of flaying their enemies alive. And they don't do it as punishment—they do it because it's a source of pride. They even made their sigil a flayed man." He smiled—an evil, dangerous smile. "So once they get here, we'll deal with them. And none of them will leave this ruined fortress alive."
Arya mirrored his smile. "My thoughts exactly."
Jacob stood. "Alright. Let's eat and wait for them to arrive."
They returned to the capsule house. After Jacob cast a cleaning spell on them both, they stepped inside. The lizard-lions followed close behind but remained outside, waiting for Jacob.
---
Three hours later, the Bolton soldiers arrived at Moat Cailin. They carried banners bearing the flayed man—a red figure hanging upside-down on a white, X-shaped cross over a field of black.
Jacob and Arya stepped out of the capsule house. Jacob tossed a few pieces of Sker Buffalo meat to the three lizard-lions. "Go kill the soldiers at the gate."
The three giant creatures seemed to understand. They lumbered toward the north gate, following the sound of the Bolton men.
The soldiers had arrived to relieve the previous garrison—the one that had left four days ago, the day before Jacob and Arya had arrived. They were just entering the large gate when they saw three massive lizard-lions walking toward them. The largest was about thirty feet long; the smallest was twenty-three feet.
One soldier shouted, "Watch out! Lizard-lions!"
Another cried, "They're too big! I've never heard of lizard-lions this size! Didn't they say they're only as big as lions?"
Their commander barked orders. "Form a line! Shields up! Spears forward! Don't let them flank us! Archers, aim for the eyes!"
The soldiers scrambled into formation, their training taking over despite their fear.
The three lizard-lions charged. They were fast—terrifyingly fast for creatures their size. Each bite killed a man. Their scaly, armored hides turned aside swords, arrows, and spears that struck their backs, though their softer underbellies remained vulnerable.
Jacob and Arya watched from a distance, not yet participating. The three giants were already doing bloody work.
Arya asked, "I heard about lizard-lions from Old Nan's stories, but she didn't say they could get this big. Where did you find them? I wanted to ask earlier, but I forgot."
Jacob shrugged. "I was bored this morning, so I went deep into the swamps a few miles from here. A small lizard-lion tried to eat me. After I dealt with it, I went looking for the biggest ones I could find to kill time. I found these three with one of my abilities, pulled them out of the swamp, and brought them here to play."
Arya gave him a look. "You're weird. That's your idea of killing time?"
Jacob smirked. "Actually, I was trying to find a swamp dragon. Unfortunately, I found none—only some large snakes and these guys. The snakes were too small. Only twenty feet long. I wasn't interested."
Arya stared. "Twenty feet is small?"
Jacob nodded and turned his attention back to the fight. Arya focused on the fight too and stopped asking questions.
For forty minutes, the soldiers fought the lizard-lions. They managed to wound the creatures by stabbing their soft, unarmored bellies. But the cost was steep—forty men dead, more than fifty severely wounded.
Jacob glanced at Arya. "Go have fun. But be careful. You're not invincible." He gestured to her clothes. "Your outfit won't be penetrated by normal weapons, but your neck and head aren't protected. If someone cuts off your head or shoots an arrow through your skull, you'll die."
Arya nodded. "I'll be careful."
Jacob pulled a combat knife from his pocket dimension and handed it to her. "Take this. It's more useful than your rapier."
Arya took the knife, weighing it in her hand. "Nice dagger. Thanks." Then she shot into the group of soldiers and began massacring them. She moved with blinding speed, slicing throats, stabbing eyes, driving the blade into necks.
One soldier shouted, "Watch out! There are..." He didn't finish. Arya stabbed him through the ear, and he dropped dead.
Jacob walked toward the now-dying lizard-lions. With a wave of his hand, he used his telekinesis to kill all the soldiers who were still stabbing them. The remaining soldiers panicked.
One screamed, "He... he's a sorcerer!"
An archer loosed an arrow at Jacob. With a flick of his finger, Jacob sent it flying back into the archer's skull with his telekinesis.
Jacob pulled the spears from the lizard-lions' bodies and used his Healing Touch ability. A warm white light enveloped the three creatures, closing their wounds, restoring their strength. Within moments, they were fully healed.
Jacob smiled at them. "You did a good job. Go stand aside. I'll reward you after I deal with these idiots."
The three lizard-lions obediently moved to the side.
Jacob drew his sword, Griffin. He poured energy into the blade, and a cold blue flame ignited along its edge. Then he attacked.
He was faster than Arya. More cruel. Every swing of his sword tore through armor and weapons alike, cleaving bodies in half with wounds that burned and froze at the same time. The Bolton men tried to run, but Jacob appeared in front of them—again and again—and slaughtered them without mercy.
Arya killed one last man and stopped. She watched Jacob cut through the escaping soldiers with an evil smirk on his face.
She sighed. "He's easygoing and an idiot most of the time. Even with all his magical powers, I thought he was just a pretty boy." She watched him drive his sword through another man. "But it seems I was wrong. He's a monster. And he looks scary right now." She smiled. "But I like him like this. Kind to his friends. Cruel to his enemies. Only a man like that deserves to be my king."
Soon, all the remaining Bolton men lay dead.
Jacob sheathed his sword and waved his hand. A giant, life-like fire serpent shot from his palm and burned the bodies to ash.
He walked to Arya. "This is the first time you've killed so many people, isn't it? How are you feeling?"
Arya smiled. "I feel great."
Jacob cast a cleaning spell on both of them, cleaning the blood and gore from their faces and hair. Their enchanted clothes were already clean.
Then he bought enough Sker Buffalo meat from the system to fill the lizard-lions' stomachs. He tossed it to them. "Remember—don't fight among yourselves."
The three creatures, who had been hissing at each other, stopped and began eating without fighting.
Jacob rubbed Arya's head and led her back to the capsule house. "Let's go watch a movie or something."
Arya grinned and walked beside him. "Let's watch Tom and Jerry. I love Jerry, but I want to see if Tom will ever win against him."
Jacob looked at her—at the childish smile on her face—and shook his head with a laugh.
Chapter 176: First Meeting
May 5
The next day, Jacob and Arya woke up and had breakfast. Then Arya went to train while Jacob played with the three lizard-lions for a bit. Afterward, he went back inside the capsule house, turned on the TV, and started watching an animal documentary. Soon, he fell asleep and didn't wake until Arya returned a few hours later.
He checked the system notification and found that Sansa would arrive in two hours. He had a big lunch with Arya, and then the two of them went outside to the gate that faced the direction Sansa would come from. He took two chairs, sat on one, and pulled a book from his pocket dimension—Moby-Dick—and began to read.
Arya sat next to him. "Is Sansa really coming today?"
Jacob nodded. "Yes. She'll be here in less than two hours. I can hear horses coming toward us nine miles away."
Arya sighed. "I don't know how to face her. To be honest, I don't like her that much, and she doesn't like me. She used to call me Horseface. We hated each other when we were in Winterfell. When Nymeria bit Joffrey to protect me, Sansa lied to King Robert, claiming she didn't see what happened to protect her engagement to Joffrey. And when Father died… she was there, standing next to the Lannisters that day, wearing a pretty dress, watching them behead him."
Jacob looked from his book to Arya. "She probably stood there against her will, helpless, watching them kill your father."
Arya's voice was hard. "I'm not sure about that."
Jacob said, "Then talk to her when she arrives. And remember—she's your sister. Give her the benefit of the doubt. I'm sure you've seen some bad things, Arya. You've been through a lot. But at least you were free. You traveled. You didn't get abused and live in fear. But she did. She was her enemies' prisoner. She had to live beside them, careful not to show her emotions, because that would get her killed—or worse. She was probably tortured and abused but had to endure, to smile, to be obedient, just to survive."
Arya's voice cracked. "She didn't have to. She could have fought back. She could have killed Cersei and escaped."
Jacob shook his head. "Don't be stupid. Sansa isn't someone who likes to fight and kill like you. She was just a naive child who thought the world was a romantic story—that she was going to marry a prince, become a queen, and live happily ever after." He paused. "I don't know what you remember about her, but she's not the girl you grew up with. Not after what she's seen. Not after what she's been through. Not after what they've done to her. So maybe you should hear her side of the story and be glad that your sister managed to survive—instead of being angry at her for things she was forced to endure, or things she said or did when you were both just kids at Winterfell."
Arya's voice was quiet. "You seem to know things about her."
Jacob looked back at his book. "I only know a few things. But with how cruel and crazy Joffrey was, I can imagine the rest."
Arya didn't say anything more. She sighed and closed her eyes, thinking about the past. Wondering what would have happened if she had been in Sansa's place. Would she have survived? Would she have killed Cersei? Or would she be dead—or broken—by now?
They didn't speak after that. Arya was deep in thought, and Jacob kept reading.
---
An hour and a half later, Jacob closed his book with a sharp snap, bringing Arya back from her thoughts.
"They're here," he said. "Fourteen of them. Sansa, Littlefinger, and twelve Knights of the Vale."
Arya stood. "Let's go."
Jacob held up a hand. "I want to meet her first. If you want to come with me, put on a mask. And there's no hurry. She knows Moat Cailin. When she sees it, she'll realize that Littlefinger is trying to take her back to Winterfell and sell her to the Boltons. I want her to realize he isn't her friend before I show up."
Arya frowned. "So you want to appear when she's most desperate and save her."
Jacob smirked. "Yes. That will help me gain a little affection from her. Maybe even make her accept my marriage proposal easily. You said she loves romantic songs and stories." He spread his arms. "Then I'll be her knight in shining armor."
Arya gave him a look. "Are you going to tell her about your other wives?"
Jacob nodded. "Of course I'll tell her."
Arya asked, "Does she have a choice? Will you let her go if she refuses to marry you?"
Jacob smiled. "Of course I'll give her a choice. Either she marries me—or she marries me."
Arya rolled her eyes. "That's not a choice."
Jacob's smirk widened. "Of course it is. Either she marries me willingly, or I kidnap her. After all, that's what my kind does. We kidnap princesses."
Arya stared. "What? Your kind kidnaps princesses?"
Jacob shrugged. "Yeah. Not just princesses—any woman we like. But don't worry. I'll try my best to charm your sister first. And with how handsome I am, I'm pretty sure she'll say yes. No woman can resist my charm."
Arya snorted. "You're a pretty boy, but I don't feel like you're irresistible."
Jacob laughed. "That's because you're not a woman. You're a kid."
Arya flipped him off. Jacob just laughed and turned his gaze toward a distant mountain about two miles away. On its slope, Littlefinger appeared, holding Sansa's hand.
Jacob pulled a white Venetian mask—one that covered the entire face—from his pocket dimension and tossed it to Arya. "Wear this. And remember—when we appear next to Sansa, don't let her know who you are until I finish my talk with her."
Arya put on the mask. "Alright."
Jacob said, "Now, don't speak. I want to hear their conversation so I can choose the perfect time to appear."
---
Sansa stood at the edge of a mountain, wearing a black dress and a black cloak. Beside her stood Petyr Baelish. They both gazed down at the ancient fortress below in the distance, shrouded in fog. The wind blew, cold and damp, carrying the scent of rotting reeds from the surrounding marshes.
Moat Cailin was a ruin in many ways—its towers crumbling, its walls weathered by centuries of war and neglect—but its position was undeniable. It sat like a jagged spine across the Neck, the only dry path between the North and the South.
Sansa's voice was hollow. "That's Moat Cailin."
Littlefinger nodded. "Yes. A bit shabby, isn't it? You've been here before."
Sansa said, "On our way down to King's Landing. With my father. And Arya, and…" She turned to look at him. "Where are you taking me?"
Littlefinger met her eyes. "Home."
Sansa's heart clenched. "The Boltons have Winterfell."
Littlefinger nodded slowly.
Sansa looked at him—really looked. His eyes held no malice, only the calm certainty of a man playing chess with living pieces. And she now realized that she is just one of the many chess pieces in his game.
Her voice was tight. "The marriage proposal… it wasn't for you?"
Littlefinger shook his head calmly. "No."
Sansa's voice rose. "Roose Bolton murdered my brother! He betrayed my family!"
Littlefinger nodded again. "He did."
Sansa pressed on. "He serves the Lannisters."
Littlefinger said, "For now."
Sansa shook her head. "I won't go."
Littlefinger's voice was soft. "Winterfell is your home."
Sansa kept shaking her head. "Not anymore."
Littlefinger insisted. "Always. You're a Stark. Dyeing your hair doesn't change that. You're Sansa Stark. The eldest surviving child of Ned and Catelyn Stark. Your place is in the North."
Sansa turned back to look at Moat Cailin. The fortress blurred before her eyes. "I can't marry him. You can't make me." She looked back at him, her voice rising even more. "He's a traitor. A murderer."
Littlefinger remained calm. "You're not marrying Roose Bolton. No—you'll be marrying his son and heir, Ramsay. One day, he'll be Warden of the North, and..."
"NO!" Sansa cut him off. "No, you can't make me." Tears began falling freely from her eyes. "I will starve myself. I will die before I go there."
Littlefinger stepped closer and reached out to put his hand on her shoulder.
Just then, two figures appeared out of nowhere. One caught Littlefinger's hand before it could touch Sansa's shoulder. The smaller one fell to the ground face-first.
Sansa and Littlefinger both startled.
Sansa took a step backward, looking at the handsome boy who had appeared in front of her—out of nowhere—in shock.
Littlefinger tried to free his hand. He couldn't.
Jacob looked down at Arya, who was lying near his feet, refusing to get up. He gently kicked her. "Get up. You're embarrassing me. And you ruined my heroic entrance."
Arya finally stood and acted like nothing had happened. She stared at Sansa but didn't speak.
Sansa looked at the masked girl for a moment, then back at Jacob—at the sigil on his chest that she didn't recognize, at his fine clothes, then back at his face.
Littlefinger shouted to the knights, "What are you waiting for? Help us!"
The knights, who were on their horses, charged. But just as they got within three meters, they froze—horses and all—unable to move, unable to make a sound other than strained groans. Jacob had used his telekinesis to freeze them in place.
Littlefinger shouted again, "Why did you stop? I command you..."
Jacob slapped him across the face—hard. Littlefinger fell to the ground.
Jacob's voice was cold. "Shut up. You're too loud."
Then Jacob turned to Sansa with a charming smile. He took a step toward her and gently wiped the tears from her face. "You're as beautiful as I heard. But I heard your hair was red. You probably used berries and other natural ingredients to turn it black, right? That can be considered a stain." He smiled. "Let me see if I can turn it back to normal."
He cast a cleaning spell on her. Sansa panicked as a white light enveloped her body. When it faded, her hair had turned back to its natural red—but she didn't realize it yet. She just felt fresh and clean.
Jacob smiled as he admired her red hair. "That's more like it. Red hair suits you better. It goes well with your beautiful blue eyes."
Sansa looked at Jacob warily and took a step back. "What did you do to me?"
Jacob shrugged. "Nothing. I just returned your hair to its beautiful natural color."
She took a strand of her hair and saw it had turned back to red. She looked back at Jacob. "Who are you?"
Jacob smiled. "I'm your future husband."
Sansa's heart seized. "Ramsay Bolton?"
Arya snorted a laugh.
Jacob looked offended. He flicked Sansa's forehead.
Sansa yelped and caught her forehead. "Aahhh!" She glared at him.
Jacob said, "That's for thinking I'm that psychopathic pig Ramsay. Look at me." He spread his arms. "My handsomeness is out of this world. How could you possibly think I'm that bastard?"
Sansa's voice was wary. "Then who are you?"
Jacob's expression softened. "Alright. Jokes aside. I know you're scared. Terrified, even. I can feel it. I can also feel anger and hatred from you—probably because Littlefinger just betrayed you and tried to sell you to the Boltons." He met her eyes. "But you don't need to fear me. I mean you no harm. My name is Jacob. I came looking for you to propose marriage."
Littlefinger sat up. "Don't listen to him, Sansa. He's a sorcerer. A nobody who wants to use your name. I've never seen a sigil like the one on his chest. I've never even heard of it."
Arya drew the combat knife Jacob had given her—she hadn't brought her sword; she'd left it in the house. She pressed the blade against Littlefinger's throat. "Make another sound, and I'll cut your throat."
Jacob smiled at Littlefinger. "I'll tell you what, Littlefinger. I can spare your life—but you have to leave alone. I came here for Sansa. I'm not interested in you. As for the Vale knights… they will have to die." His voice hardened. "So choose wisely. Leave, and I won't kill you. Or stay, and die."
Littlefinger's eyes narrowed. "Why would you spare a man who has no value to you? I've lived with liars and schemers my whole life. I'm a liar myself. I know a liar when I see one."
Jacob shrugged. "I'm no liar. As for why I'll let you go—it's simple. I want to show Sansa that you are not her friend at all. I want to show her that you're just using her. And when it comes to a choice between your life and hers, you will always choose your own life." He held up two fingers. "So I'll give you two choices. One: leave alone, and I will not kill you. You can even take a horse. Two: stay and die." He paused. "But if you choose to stay, I will respect you as a man of honor. I will let Sansa and the twelve knights go free, and I will not kill you until tomorrow. That way, they will be a day's ride away from me."
Littlefinger's voice was tight. "Do I have your word?"
Jacob nodded. "I swear I will keep my word." He looked at Arya. "Let him stand."
Arya removed the knife from Littlefinger's throat and stepped back.
Littlefinger stood. He looked at the frozen knights, then at Sansa. "I'm sorry, Sansa. This man doesn't want to kill you, so you'll be safe. But if I stay, I will die." He met her eyes. "Don't worry. I will find you. I will rescue you."
Sansa's voice was flat. "You can rescue me now. You only need to give up your life."
Littlefinger's jaw tightened. "I will rescue you. I promise. I will bring all the Knights of the Vale. I will find you. I..."
Sansa cut him off. "Thank you for all the valuable lessons you've given me, Lord Baelish. Especially the lesson about trust." Her voice was cold. "I'm tired of your lies." She sighed. "I'm tired of this miserable life of mine."
Littlefinger opened his mouth to speak, but Jacob raised a hand. "My patience is limited. You've chosen to leave. So get lost."
Littlefinger didn't need to be told twice. He walked to his horse, glancing back at Jacob and Arya with every step. He mounted and rode fast, passing them and descending the mountain toward Moat Cailin.
Arya stood beside Jacob. "Are you really letting him go? You said he was responsible for what happened to my father."
Jacob rubbed her head and smirked. "Don't worry. I only promised not to kill him if he chose to leave. I never said I'd actually let him go. I'll keep my word—I won't kill him." His smile turned wicked. "But I never promised you wouldn't kill him, did I? He's all yours. Just not until he confesses his crimes."
Arya nodded. "Okay. Should I go after him? Bring him back?"
Jacob shook his head. "No need. Let him think he's escaped for now. I can bring him back anytime I want." He tilted his head. "Besides—did you forget what's sleeping at Moat Cailin's gate?"
Arya's eyes lit up. She smirked. "I forgot about them. I wish I could see the look on his face when he sees them."