Night had fallen, and as expected, a violent storm had arrived.
The roaring, churning waves crashed against the walls of the small wooden hut, while the raging wind rattled the filthy windows with a constant clatter.
"A child?"
"Not a wildling—he was found in the south."
"Poor fellow, the village was wiped out, and he's the only one left alive... He doesn't even remember what happened!"
"The boy who lived!"
Harry felt as though he had been in a very long, very extended dream, where he encountered all sorts of people.
Petunia had already fetched a few moldy blankets from the other room. Dudley was sleeping on the worm-eaten sofa, while she and Vernon had gone to the next room to sleep on a lumpy, uneven bed.
Because of the mysterious letters that kept arriving, the four of them had come to this small island under Vernon's lead. Vernon believed that by hiding here, no one would be able to deliver any more letters.
Previously, Harry could only find the least uncomfortable spot on the floor, curl up under a thin, ragged blanket, and fall asleep amid the torment.
"The night is dark and full of terrors. I shall stand my watch from this night until the end of my days.
I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children.
I shall wear no crowns and win no glory.
I shall live and die at my post.
I am the sword in the darkness, the watcher on the walls.
I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers, the shield that guards the realms of men."
I pledge my life and honor to the Night's Watch, for this night and all the nights to come.
In the dead of night, with rain and wind howling, the storm grew even more unrestrained.
Harry couldn't sleep; he tossed and turned, unable to distinguish between reality and dreams. It seemed like he could wake up at any moment, but he was always enveloped in the "dream."
"The duty of the Night's Watch is to guard against the great enemy of humanity... The Wall has fallen, the vows are broken. We must build a larger army, unite all the forces we can, and use every power available."
"Lord Potter, the warriors of the Seven Kingdoms are all here, and the priests of the Others are here as well."
"My lord, women can also—"
"Of course. You've earned your merits; you qualify."
Harry drew his longsword from its sheath and solemnly placed it flat on the beauty's right shoulder:
"In the name of the Warrior, I charge you to be brave."
The sword then shifted to the left:
"In the name of the Father, I charge you to be just."
"In the name of the Mother, I charge you to defend the innocent."
"In the name of the Maiden, I charge you to protect all women."
"Arise, Brienne of Tarth, a knight of the Seven Kingdoms."
"Darkness fell upon the world, and a hero named Azor Ahai was chosen to fight against it.
To challenge the darkness, Azor Ahai needed to forge a hero's blade.
He labored day and night for thirty days and thirty nights. When he plunged the sword into water to temper it, the blade shattered.
He started over, this time working for fifty days and fifty nights. This sword was even better than the last.
Azor Ahai captured a lion and drove the sword into the beast's red heart to temper it, but the blade still cracked and broke.
The third time, knowing what he must do, he worked for a hundred days and a hundred nights with a heavy heart to forge the sword.
When it was done, he called for his wife, Nissa Nissa, bared her breast, and thrust the smoking sword into her living heart. Her blood, her soul, her strength, and her courage all flowed into the blade.
Thus was Lightbringer forged."
"When the stars bleed and the cold darkness gathers over the world, a warrior shall draw a burning sword from the fire. That sword shall be Lightbringer...
In the night, a streak of light flashed like a meteor, appearing in Harry's right hand. The faint glow flickered in and out before finally vanishing, forming an inconspicuous mark—or rather, a scar—on his right wrist.
Dudley, sleeping on the sofa, was letting out astonishing snores that rivaled the thunder, so naturally, he didn't notice the glimmer of light.
The two armies faced each other, with demonic dragons dancing in the sky.
This was a war between the living and the dead, a clash of life and death, a divine battle between the God of Cold and the Red God. This was the song of ice and fire.
Harry Potter stepped forward from the crowd, reaching the front lines:
"After ten years of bitter war, we have come to this day."
"Brave men part from their loved ones in pain, spilling the blood of their enemies in fury... And we shall be remembered for eternity!"
"Our fame shall inspire the heroes of future generations!"
With that, Harry, covered in blood, drew his burning sword and turned to roar: "Night King, come out!!!"
The moment his left hand was enveloped in a layer of dark, ominous ice, Harry opened his eyes.
"Where is this?"
"My hands have gotten smaller?"
"Where's the Night King? I won!... But, the Great Other... Ugh..."
The stinging pain in both his left and right hands made him let out a muffled groan.
His left hand was ice.
His right hand bore a mark that reacted with stimulation, glowing again and producing a strong burning sensation. In an instant, Harry thought of the heroic red sword he had once drawn—Lightbringer.
The ice on his left hand had been receding, forming another mark, but when the light appeared, it began to spread once more.
The conflict grew stronger.
"Fire and ice, light and dark, life and death, day and night, summer and winter—the world is the result of the eternal struggle between these two gods..."
"The Lord of Light, the Heart of Fire, the God of Flame and Shadow, the God of Heat and Life; the Great Other, the God of Darkness, Cold, and Death, the God of Night and Terror... Their endless struggle determines the fate of humanity."
Harry recalled the words of those red-robed priests after he had drawn the sword and become king.
He had never fully believed them, but he had to admit that parts of what they said might be true. Those two forces were indeed incompatible, like water and fire.
Choosing one meant you couldn't choose the other.
"My hands... Here... I remember now. Could it be that I've returned to my childhood, on that island? I fell asleep on that island and then went to another world. Now I'm back... Is there such a thing in the world?"
Amid the intensifying pain, Harry calmly opened the system panel that had gradually become part of him after crossing to the other world.
"Reject unhealthy games, refuse pirated games.
Pay attention to self-protection, beware of being deceived.
Moderate gaming benefits the brain, addiction harms the body.
Arrange your time reasonably and enjoy a healthy life."
After some familiar characters appeared—somewhat like Japanese, though Harry didn't understand their meaning—the panel opened.
Fortunately, this mysterious system allowed switching to multiple languages. When he first accessed it years ago, he had switched it to English; otherwise, he wouldn't have understood it.
Harry's grades were decent; he hadn't fallen behind in any subjects and was about on par with an average elementary school graduate. He could no longer be considered illiterate.
[King Development System]
[True Name: Harry Potter]
[Titles: Ruler of Westeros and Protector of the Realm, King of War, Legendary Warrior, King of Swords, King of Knights, Lightbringer, Slayer of Darkness, Destroyer of White Walkers, King of Strength... (A Song of Ice and Fire Plane)/The Boy Who Lived (Harry Potter Plane)]
[Strength: 20]
[Stamina: 4]
[Magic: 2]
[Divinity: 2]
[Charisma: 5]
[Intelligence: 1]
[Golden Attribute Points: 1]
[Equipment: Lightbringer (Soul-Bound), Soul of Darkness (In Conflict)]
[Skills: One-Handed Sword Mastery, Two-Handed Sword Mastery, Polearm Mastery, Throwing Mastery, Bow and Crossbow Mastery... Block, Critical Strike, Charge, Whirlwind Dance, Decapitate, Armor Pierce... Leap Slash, Blood Fury, Lord of Light's Illumination]
The panel had numerous clickable options and additional explanations. For instance, each title had corresponding effects, but most were now grayed out and inactive. The only one still lit was [The Boy Who Lived].
In the previous world, the other titles had been active, and this one was the gray, unselectable one. Now he could finally see its information: [The Boy Who Lived]—Gains various bonuses when in conflict with the archenemy of this world???.
Who was this archenemy?
How strong were they?
In the world the system labeled as A Song of Ice and Fire, there hadn't been any such special enemy... Was their name a secret too?
Putting that aside for now, the attributes below the titles were divided into six types.
Each had detailed explanations. The simplest was Strength.
Before crossing over, Harry had heard other kids talk about similar game attributes, usually divided into things like "strength, agility, constitution, intelligence."
But here, Strength was different; it could also be toggled to "Vitality." This single attribute encompassed boosts to power, speed, endurance, and more.
And it could be improved directly with easily obtainable bronze attribute points. Only this attribute allowed direct upgrades with bronze points.
The other attributes required ten bronze points to exchange for one silver point, which could then boost Stamina or Magic.
Ten silver attribute points could be exchanged for one golden attribute point, which could boost Divinity, Charisma, or Intelligence.
Strength had an incredibly high cost-effectiveness ratio, and physical power was the most straightforward form of strength. Harry had basically dumped all his points into Strength. With high Strength, speed naturally increased too. If the system hadn't warned him of danger after reaching 20 points and suggested raising Stamina or Magic to at least 5, he wouldn't have even added to Stamina.
For ordinary people, Strength didn't count for infants or children. Healthy women mostly had 1 point, while fit adult men had 2 points. Eating well added another 1 point. 5 or 6 points made one an elite knight.
Harry had never seen any pure human besides himself reach 10 or more in Strength—even the Mountain, that giant of a man, topped out at around 10.
When he hit 20 points in Strength, no one on the battlefield could match him in a single exchange.
The limit of 20 points wasn't just a numerical increase—able to lift twice as much as at 10 points. Instead, it gave absolute superiority in physical confrontations. His body had an endless well of power to draw from, allowing him to gain the upper hand even against monsters. He could even subdue giants and dragons with his bare body.
It reminded Harry of Hercules, the mighty god who wrestled monsters in human-like combat, but whose most exaggerated feat was holding up the world.
Of course, his physical form was nowhere near that mythical figure; confronting certain monsters was already his limit.
And now, having returned to his childhood state, he could clearly feel that this body had undergone a miraculous rejuvenation, with massive changes. Though his current Strength far exceeded his state right after crossing to the other world—stronger even than 10 points—it was still far from his peak, feeling very weak.
He might need a period of rest and adaptation to recover his original power.
Beyond Strength, Stamina might be some more fundamental essence?
Most people had a fixed 1 point of innate Stamina, hard to improve through acquired means—including Harry himself.
After adding points to reach 4 in Stamina, he felt his body more at ease and comfortable, with a deep pleasure unlike physical enhancement, and an additional power that flowed with his breath.
Magic was something most people lacked. Harry had been born with 1 point, and after reaching adulthood in that world, it rose to 2—perhaps due to bodily changes or the environment. It could be considered innate 2 points, second only to a few beings like the Night King or dragons.
He had learned some minor tricks, but they weren't very useful—far less so than Strength. The only one he was proficient in was the illumination spell.
However, possessing a high 2 points in Magic allowed natural immunity to certain magical curses, which was enough.
The remaining three "divine" attributes required golden points to upgrade. Charisma started at 2 for him—not just personal charm, but influence over the spiritual realm, with bonuses to magic, divine arts, and rituals...
The notes were extremely complex. With his elementary school knowledge, Harry could only grasp bits and pieces. Later, obsessed with Strength, he hadn't paid much attention to these.
After becoming Ruler of Westeros and Protector of the Realm, and achieving a series of great feats, his weight in destiny changed, raising Charisma to 5.
He only felt that something was different—soldiers were more easily inspired when he gave orders, but that was the shallowest sensation. More importantly, he seemed less susceptible to being swayed, charmed, or replaced. Even gods would find it hard to ignore his existence.
The same ritual performed by a monarch versus an ordinary person yielded vastly different results...
It was a vague feeling, one Harry only sensed after becoming king.
Divinity was zero for all mortals, including monks and priests—the power they borrowed apparently didn't count.
Harry had gained his first point only after drawing Lightbringer and receiving the [Summons of the Red God] infusion.
Then, now, after slaying the King of the White Walkers and earning [Gaze of the Great Other], he had a second point.
The two were in conflict, and the system suggested adding to Divinity to condense his own kingly power and unify them.
As for Intelligence, it seemed useless.
Harry figured his 1 point in Intelligence was sufficient; he had always been clever and never paid it any mind—
Also because he couldn't afford to upgrade it; golden points required a hundred bronze points to exchange.
His current single golden attribute point was likely a reward for slaying the King of the White Walkers and completing the most important event of that world in that era.
Without hesitation, Harry added it to Divinity.
Add point!!
[Divinity: 2]→[Divinity: 3]
The conflicting forces surging in his hands immediately reduced to a manageable level. Harry felt some change at the center of his brow—the scar on his forehead had been there since childhood, hurting after nightmares in his early years, but it had stopped reacting after he went to the other world, so he hadn't thought about it.
As the three forces settled, a new black scar appeared on his left hand. Was that the [Soul of Darkness]?
The Great Other, the God of Darkness, Cold, and Death—his power opposed yet unified with the Lord of Light's scorching, restless, cruel forces.
He seemed to have undergone some profound transformation. With the miraculous boost from Divinity, could his Strength limit... be even higher now?
Harry marveled at the wonders of Divinity as he stood up.
The matter of his body was temporarily resolved.
He had pondered the crossing for so many years that he no longer dwelled on it.
So, first, let's figure out the questions he had even before crossing.
What exactly was Uncle Vernon hiding from? Was he being hunted by some great noble, pursued for his life?
Or had he deserted from London?
And those letters addressed to him—where were they coming from?