Everyone's gaze was fixed on the human skin map, which exuded an ancient aura.
The blood-red eye symbol was like an ominous omen.
It was not only etched on the map but also deeply imprinted in everyone's hearts.
Mormont's gaze returned to Lynn.
His eyes no longer held just gratitude and trust.
Instead, there was an added layer of reliance.
"Lynn, if this is true, you will have rendered a great service."
Mormont's voice regained its usual composure.
"Indeed, we can no longer sit by and do nothing."
"Passive defense will only lead us to slow demise through endless attrition."
He stood up and walked to the map, his wrinkled fingers pressing on it.
"From today onwards, the strategy of the Night's Watch must change."
"The wildlings are still our threat, and we must know what they are doing."
"Bowen."
Mormont looked at the chubby architect again.
"You immediately organize people to reinforce the defenses of Castle Black."
"At the same time, send raven to Eastwatch-by-the-Sea and Shadow Tower, instructing them to enter maximum alert status."
"Yes, My Lord!"
"Thorne."
"Here..."
Thorne's voice was somewhat weak.
"Your task is to redouble the training of the new recruits."
Mormont's tone was very stern.
"I don't care what methods you use!"
"Within a month, I need to see those recruits able to wield a sword and stand on the Wall!"
"I... I obey."
Thorne replied, gritting his teeth.
Finally, Mormont's gaze fell on Lynn.
He was silent for a moment, seemingly making an extremely important decision.
Everyone in the room's eyes also fell on Lynn with him.
"Lynn."
Mormont finally spoke.
"You will become the commander of the Night's Watch's first expeditionary force."
These words exploded in everyone's ears like a clap of thunder.
Such a young commander?
This... this was simply unheard of!
Alliser Thorne suddenly stood up from his chair, his face filled with disbelief.
"Lord Commander! This is against the rules!"
He cried out in dismay.
"He isn't even a formal Ranger! How can you..."
"Rules?"
Mormont turned around, his cold gaze fixed on Thorne.
"Right now, staying alive is our only rule!"
"Lynn has proven his ability through his actions."
"He understands our enemies better than anyone else here!"
"I am not discussing this decision with you."
Mormont's voice carried an unchallengeable authority.
"I am issuing an order."
Thorne's body swayed, and he slumped back into his chair.
Lynn looked at Mormont, a ripple of emotion in his heart.
He hadn't expected Mormont to be so decisive, directly giving him command of a force.
This was far better than he had anticipated.
"As for your hundred Northmen Guards,"
Mormont continued.
"They will form the core of your expeditionary force."
"Additionally, I will select fifty of the most elite Rangers from the Night's Watch for you."
"Weapons, supplies, and horses will also be prioritized for you."
Mormont walked in front of Lynn, his sharp eyes fixed on him.
"I have only one request."
"Find that place on the map."
Lynn met his gaze and nodded solemnly.
"Yes, Lord Commander!"
...The meeting ended.
The officers, deep in thought, left the council chamber one after another.
Only Mormont remained in the room.
He sat back in the main seat, exhausted, and rubbed his throbbing temples.
The decision he had just made had almost drained all his mental energy.
He knew how much controversy this decision would cause.
But he had no choice.
In the face of the Others' threat, all old rules had to be broken.
He needed someone like Lynn, who didn't play by the rules but always created miracles, to carve out a path to survival for the Night's Watch.
But to make Lynn devote himself wholeheartedly... Mormont slowly stood up and walked to the corner of the room.
There, a wooden box covered in thick dust sat.
He blew the dust off the box and opened the rusted copper lock.
Inside the box, a longsword lay quietly.
The scabbard was made of black leather, inlaid with silver ornaments.
At the end of the hilt was a bear's head carved from silver.
The bear's eyes were two small dragonglass shards.
longclaw.
The ancestral sword of House Mormont.
A divine weapon forged entirely from valyrian steel.
Mormont reached out and gently stroked the cold scabbard.
In his mind, the image of a young man appeared.
Golden hair, handsome face, always with a hint of melancholy.
Jorah.
His son.
The son who once made him incredibly proud, but ultimately brought him great shame.
For a woman, to satisfy her extravagant desires, Jorah did not hesitate to sell slaves.
When the verdict came, he chose to flee, escaping to the Free Cities across the Narrow Sea.
He abandoned his family, abandoned his honor, and became an exile.
Mormont's heart felt as if it were being cut by a knife.
He donned the black cloak and came to the Wall, attempting to wash away the shame his son brought upon the family with this cold wilderness.
Jorah still had some conscience.
This sword was not sold; he left it behind.
No letters, no words.
Only this Valyrian steel sword, longclaw, representing the honor of House Mormont.
"At least he had some conscience."
Mormont murmured, a hint of bitterness in his voice.
He knew that his son giving up this sword meant he had completely renounced his inheritance.
And also given up his right to be a part of House Mormont.
Since then, this sword had been locked in this box by him.
It shouldn't gather dust here.
A thought became increasingly clear in Mormont's mind.
It should belong to a true warrior.
Someone brave, fearless, and who understood honor and duty.
Someone who could wield it to fight against the coming Long Night.
In his mind, another young face appeared.
Calm, decisive, with an unquenchable flame always burning in his eyes.
Lynn.
Mormont's gaze became incredibly resolute.
He closed the box, carried it, and walked out of the council chamber.
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