As Lynn stepped out, Ser Alliser Thorne's voice echoed across the training grounds.
"You soft southerners!"
"You can't even hold a sword steady, and you want to be a Night's Watchman?"
His gaze fell on Lynn as he pushed open the door and emerged.
He didn't dare to retort, but his heart felt heavy.
Finally, his hateful gaze landed on Jon Snow.
The contempt in his eyes was almost palpable.
"Look at our esteemed Lord Snow."
"The bastard of the Duke of Winterfell."
Thorne drew out his words, an undisguised malice on his face.
"He had a dedicated Ser to teach him swordsmanship in a warm castle."
"Unlike you, who are just fatherless bastards."
Jon gripped his sword tightly.
He pressed his lips together, not saying a word.
He knew any rebuttal would only invite more vicious humiliation.
"Since Lord Snow is so excellent."
Thorne's mouth curved into a cruel smile.
"Then let him teach you what real combat is."
He waved his hand at the other recruits.
"All of you, come at him."
"Let our Lord Snow teach you a good lesson."
The recruits exchanged glances.
Most of them were thieves from the slums or farmers abandoned by their lords.
They had no idea how to fight.
However, under Thorne's coercion, a burly boy named Gelan was the first to raise his sword.
Pypar was the same.
"Come on."
The others also surrounded him.
Jon's heart sank.
He looked around, seeing only hostile faces.
Ser Rodrik's words, taught to him in Winterfell, echoed in his ears.
"When facing multiple enemies, do not linger in battle; seek out their weaknesses and defeat them one by one."
Jon took a deep breath; Thorne's insults stirred the anger in his heart.
He lowered his center of gravity, adopting a standard defensive stance.
The first recruit charged forward, his sword haphazardly hacking down.
Jon did not meet the blow directly.
He sidestepped, easily dodging it.
At the same time, his sword thrust out, precisely tapping the opponent's wrist.
"Clang."
The iron sword fell to the ground.
The recruit clutched his wrist, wincing in pain.
The second, the third... Jon's figure moved nimbly amidst the encirclement.
He used the techniques Ser Rodrik taught him to disarm them one by one, and then knocked them down fiercely with his fists and elbows.
On the training ground, wails rose and fell.
Many recruits clutched bleeding noses or stomachs kicked by Jon.
In just a moment.
All the attacking recruits lay on the ground, bruised and swollen.
Jon stood in the center of the field, his chest rising and falling slightly.
He looked at the groaning recruits on the ground, feeling no joy of victory, only suppressed anger.
Ser Alliser Thorne's face was terrifyingly grim.
He had intended to use this opportunity to thoroughly humiliate Jon.
But he hadn't expected the bastard to steal the show instead.
"Very good."
Thorne squeezed out two words through gritted teeth.
He looked at Jon, his gaze becoming playful.
"However, Lord Snow, you didn't make any friends today."
With that, Thorne turned and walked away, flicking his sleeve.
Jon sneered.
Make friends?
These people were all criminals; how could he possibly be friends with such people!
...Training ended.
Jon walked alone down the gloomy corridor leading to the armory.
What had happened during the day made him feel more isolated than ever.
He had thought that at the Wall, one's birth no longer mattered.
Everyone was a brother of the Night's Watch.
But reality had slapped him hard in the face.
Footsteps came from behind him.
Jon stopped and turned around.
It was Gelan, Pypar, and two other recruits he had defeated earlier in the day.
They blocked the other end of the corridor.
"You little bastard, you broke my nose."
Gelan rotated his wrist, making cracking sounds.
Jon instinctively reached for his waist.
It was empty.
After training, all weapons had to be handed in.
Jon turned his head, looking at Gelan's bleeding nose, and said contemptuously, "Consider it a nose job."
He was confident that he could defeat him even with his bare hands.
But to his surprise, Gelan roared, and the other recruits held Jon down tightly.
This change caught Jon off guard.
Clearly, they had come prepared.
Gelan pulled a dagger from his Pregnant.
"I think I need to wipe your neck."
The cold blade reflected a faint, chilling light.
"How long do you think it would take you to hit the ground if I threw you off the Wall?"
"You're so good at fighting, aren't you?"
"Why aren't you talking now?"
Gelan grabbed Jon by the collar, the dagger pressed against Jon's throat.
Jon stared intently into Gelan's eyes.
He did not beg for mercy.
A Stark would not bow to anyone.
Just then.
The door creaked open.
Gelan's body suddenly stiffened.
He and the other two recruits looked towards the sound.
Only to see a figure slowly emerge from behind the door.
It was Lynn.
He had been waiting outside the door for a long time.
As if he had known this scene would unfold from the very beginning.
"This is between us recruits."
Gelan shouted, his voice betraying his fear.
"It has nothing to do with you... nothing to do with you!"
Lynn ignored him.
His gaze passed over Gelan and landed on Jon.
"Are you scared?"
Jon did not answer.
But his rapid breathing betrayed his inner tension.
Lynn smiled.
He took a step forward.
"I don't like it when people point weapons at my friends."
"Put the dagger down."
"Otherwise, I don't mind if there are a few more corpses here."
The recruits subconsciously took a step back.
They had witnessed firsthand how Lynn defeated Ser Thorne.
That fear made their legs weak.
Gelan dared not persist any longer and wisely retracted his dagger.
Jon leaned against the wall, his tone self-deprecating.
"Everyone knew what kind of place this was, but no one told me."
"Except for you and Tyrion."
"My father must have known, but he still agreed to let me join the Night's Watch and let Tyrion, who had heard the commotion and was about to check it out, unexpectedly found Lynn leaning by the door.
He crept closer, wanting to see what was happening.
Soon, he extracted the key points from fragmented verbal clues.
He had been present when Jon Snow was targeted by Ser Alliser Thorne earlier.
He had also seen Jon thoroughly beat up a group of recruits.
Connecting the two.
Clearly, this was a premeditated act of retaliation.
Although he had a good impression of Jon, who shared a similar plight.
It seemed he didn't need to intervene at the moment.
Because Lynn was already handling it.
He stood by, arms crossed, watching.
Ready to see how Lynn would resolve the matter.
More Game of thrones story available on patreon Gk_31
Ãdvåñçé çhàptêr àvàilàble óñ pàtreøn luffy1898
Etsy id in bio please follow and put the product in your favourite after that I will upload more chapters here