Tyrion Lannister's breathing became heavy and ragged.
He clutched Lynn's arm tightly.
In his mismatched eyes, a fire that was almost frantic burned.
"What do you mean?"
His voice was hoarse, like two rusty iron plates rubbing together.
"What else do you know?"
"Tell me!"
A deathly silence fell over the camp.
Even the crackling of the campfire seemed to be swallowed by the solidified air.
Jon and Arya exchanged glances.
They couldn't understand at all.
Why a story could make a Lannister lose his composure to such an extent.
Only Benjen Stark, in his weathered eyes, a flicker of understanding passed.
He silently stood up, pulling a still-dazed Arya and Jon, and walked to the other side of the camp.
Some things were not for children to hear.
Tyrion's past was simply too cruel.
Lynn didn't pull away from Tyrion's hand.
He just lowered his head, calmly looking at the dwarf clutching him.
Watching his face flush red from intense emotional fluctuations.
And also watching the bloodshot veins in his eyes.
"Lord Lannister."
Lynn's voice remained terrifyingly steady.
"Some truths are like Pandora's Box."
"Once opened, what is released might consume you."
"No!"
Tyrion roared.
"Tell me!"
"Tell me the truth!"
"Please."
The last word, Tyrion almost squeezed out from between his teeth.
The proud Lannister lion, at this moment, bowed his head, a head he had never bowed to anyone before.
Only for a truth that might overturn his entire life.
Lynn shook his head.
"Now is not the time."
Tyrion's body swayed.
The fire in his eyes instantly dimmed, leaving only ash-like despair.
"Why?"
"What do you want?"
Tyrion suddenly looked up.
His mind was racing, trying to find a bargaining chip.
"Is it gold?"
"Casterly Rock has plenty of gold!"
"A gold mine! I'll give you a gold mine!"
"Just tell me!"
Tyrion was almost pleading.
A Lannister, using a gold mine, to exchange for an answer.
Lynn smiled.
He slowly, one by one, pried Tyrion's tightly gripping fingers off him.
"My Lord, do you think the Old Gods would need gold?"
This sentence completely stunned Tyrion.
"Is this also the Old Gods' guidance to you?"
He looked at Lynn, at those bottomless eyes.
For the first time, he realized that his proud wealth and wisdom were so pale and powerless in front of this man.
He couldn't buy him with money.
Nor could he persuade him with words.
He was like a fly caught in a spiderweb.
And the other was the patiently waiting spider.
"Then what do you want?"
"Since you've said this to me, there must be something you want!"
"Just tell me, anything you want, as long as I can do it, I can give it to you!"
Tyrion's voice trembled slightly.
Lynn leaned down and whispered into Tyrion's ear.
"What I want, you cannot give me now."
"However, that day will come."
Telling Tyrion the truth now would not be very effective.
He was waiting for the House Lannister's oppression of Tyrion to reach its limit.
That would be more beneficial to him.
Lynn straightened up, no longer looking at Tyrion.
"Get some good rest, My Lord."
"The road to The Wall is still long."
After speaking, Lynn turned and walked to his tent.
Leaving the distraught dwarf alone in the cold night.
Tyrion slumped onto the snow, his body trembling uncontrollably.
Not because of the cold.
If, if all of that was false.
If Tysha wasn't a whore, but just a poor, ordinary girl.
If it wasn't a deception.
Then what did all the pain and humiliation he had endured all these years amount to?
His father, Tywin Lannister, what a cruel role he played in his life?
Tyrion's fist slammed hard on the frozen ground.
Blood seeped from his cracked knuckles, but he felt no pain at all... In the distant shadows.
Jon watched all of this, deeply shaken.
He had never imagined that words could possess such terrifying power.
Lynn hadn't even drawn his sword.
Yet he had completely crushed a high and mighty Lannister!
"Was he... always this powerful when he was in the Night's Watch?"
Jon couldn't help but ask Benjen beside him.
Benjen's gaze retracted from Lynn's back, his eyes complex.
"No."
Benjen shook his head.
"The old Lynn was just an ordinary young man."
"The current him..."
Benjen paused, seemingly searching for a suitable word.
"Is more like a sword drawn from its sheath."
He now also somewhat believed that the Old Gods had conveyed some message to Lynn.
And at such a crucial moment.
Arya tightened her grip on "Needle" at her waist.
Her eyes sparkled with admiration.
This was the person she wanted to become.
Not a lady like Sansa, wearing pretty dresses and waiting for a prince to rescue her.
But a strong person who could use her own strength to make enemies fear and reassure her family.
"I have always lived in a lie tailor-made for me."
"My father, my sister, my brother..."
"Everyone, in ways I couldn't see, was manipulating my life."
The Lannister sat disconsolately on the ground.
The Lannister name was not an honor.
Especially for him, a dwarf.
Lynn looked at Tyrion's back, a faint smile on his lips.
He had no aversion to Tyrion.
Telling Tyrion these things this time was not only to curb his sharp tongue but also to pave the way for the future.
Everyone is a chess piece, but also a chess player!
Even small characters can influence the situation!
The seed has been sown.
It was a seed named hatred and betrayal.
One day, it will take root and sprout.
Growing into a towering tree capable of overturning the entire House Lannister.
And he, Lynn, would be the sole nurturer!
The next morning, when the group set off again, everyone noticed something was off.
Tyrion Lannister had changed.
He no longer drank alcohol.
The wineskin, which was almost always in his hand, was thrown into the ashes of the extinguished campfire.
He simply read incessantly.
He also stopped speaking.
The dwarf who was always full of witty remarks, armed with a sharp tongue and wisdom, seemed to have turned into a mute overnight.
When traveling, he just rode his horse in silence, at the very back of the group.
His face, once full of cynicism, now only held a chilling gloom.
Jon wanted to go up and talk several times.
But each time he saw Tyrion's empty eyes, he swallowed his words.
Arya was a little scared.
She quietly sidled up to Lynn, lowering her voice to ask.
"Lynn, what's wrong with that little dwarf?"
"He looks like... he's about to die."
Lynn stroked her head.
"No."
"He's not about to die."
Lynn's gaze swept over the crowd, landing on the short figure.
"He is... reborn."
Arya nodded, seemingly understanding yet not.
The group continued north in silence.
The atmosphere was terribly oppressive.
Even the group of criminals brought by Yoren sensed this unusual aura and became well-behaved.
Only Lynn's expression was as usual.
Most of the time, he was asking Benjen for archery lessons.
Drawing the bow, aiming, shooting.
Repeating the monotonous actions.
Archery (Beginner) 5/10
Archery (Beginner) 6/10
Lynn discovered that as long as someone guided him, coupled with his continuous training, he could also gain experience!
This discovery made Lynn ecstatic.
His training also became more rigorous.
His speed of progress astonished even Benjen Stark.
This young man seemed to be born for battle.
No matter what technique he taught, Lynn could master it at the fastest speed.
That kind of focus was nothing like a restless young man.
Another five days passed.
When a colossal white shadow, stretching across the sky, appeared on the distant horizon, everyone reined in their horses.
The Wall.
The Wall.
It was an unimaginably magnificent rampart, built of ice, snow, and magic.
It lay like a white dragon, sprawling at the end of the world.
Soaring into the clouds, endless.
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