"It really is a Direwolf."
Everyone was stunned by the sight before them.
A Direwolf.
The sigil of House Stark.
A creature of legend, said to only live north of The Wall.
They had not been seen south of The Wall for over two hundred years.
Their appearance here now was not a good omen.
Most importantly, the deserter had actually been right!
Theon Greyjoy whistled, dismounted, and cautiously walked over.
"It's huge."
He kicked the stiff corpse with his boot.
"It's a monster."
"It's not a monster," Jon Snow retorted. He also dismounted and knelt down for a closer look.
"She's a mother. Look."
He brushed aside the tangled fur beneath the mother wolf.
Several fluffy little creatures huddled together, snuggling against their mother's cold body, emitting faint whimpers.
They were still alive.
Bran's eyes instantly lit up.
"Look, Father!"
He jumped off his horse too, stumbling as he ran over.
The pups had not yet opened their eyes and were only the size of small dogs.
They instinctively burrowed towards the warmth.
Bran carefully picked one up and held it before his eyes.
The little creature was entirely black, with only its nose wet.
"Kill them," Theon Greyjoy's cold voice rang out.
"They won't survive without their mother."
Eddard Stark frowned, looking at the fragile little lives with a complex expression.
"Born of death..."
"Theon is right," Ned said in a deep voice.
"It's the most merciful thing to do."
"No!" Bran immediately cried out.
Robb also quickly spoke up.
"Father, please."
"A Direwolf died in the South."
An abrupt voice interjected.
The voice was not loud, but it made everyone freeze.
They looked in the direction of the voice.
It was Lynn, the captured deserter.
He stood there, still wearing shackles on his wrists, his face pale and bloodless.
But Lynn's eyes, at this moment, were unusually bright.
Ned Stark turned around, his gray eyes fixed on him.
The gaze was almost palpable, carrying scrutiny and pressure.
Lynn did not flinch.
Meeting Ned's gaze, he calmly continued.
"My lord."
"The Direwolf is the sigil of House Stark."
"A mother wolf died on the road, her throat pierced by antlers."
"Yet, her body bears the marks of a mountain lion's tearing."
Lynn's words were unhurried.
The smile on Theon Greyjoy's face froze.
He instinctively retorted.
"How can there be mountain lions in the North?"
"Mountain lions only exist in the warm South!"
The Stag, the sigil of House Baratheon, was precisely a crowned Stag.
The Lion, was the sigil of the Lannister.
The wolf, represented the Starks.
The wolf's jaw, bearing a broken antler.
It also referred to the problems left behind after King Robert's death.
None of Robert's children were his own, and it also alluded to Baelish's dagger that caused chaos...
And Ned, was that wolf.
After understanding the meaning of those four words, 'bloodline strength', Ned was killed.
"There are six pups here."
Lynn's gaze swept over the hungry little wolves.
"Four males and two females."
"Exactly corresponding to Lord Stark's six children."
Looking at the five Direwolf pups on the ground, Theon wanted to retort.
"There are clearly only five..."
But Ned's icy expression made him swallow his words.
The wind howled, whipping up loose snow from the ground and stinging people's faces.
This was no longer a coincidence.
It was an omen.
An ominous omen from the Old Gods.
"What exactly are you trying to say?"
Eddard Stark's voice was colder than the northern wind.
If the pups corresponded to his children, did this dead Direwolf correspond to himself?
"Winter Is Coming."
Lynn uttered these four words, one by one.
This motto of House Stark, spoken by an outsider like him, carried a strange sense of destiny.
"This is not a gift, my lord."
"This is a warning."
"Something beyond The Wall has awakened, and the Old Gods have sent a warning."
"They belong to the Stark children."
"They will protect them."
After Lynn finished speaking, he said no more, lowering his head again.
He had said enough.
Saying any more would not be a warning, but a curse.
He did not want to lose his head.
Eddard Stark stood silently.
He looked at the dead mother wolf, at the fatal antler, and then at the five pups.
"Remove his shackles."
Though Ned still harbored suspicion towards Lynn, his attitude was much better than before.
Then, Ned's gaze fell upon his youngest son, Bran.
Bran was tightly holding the pup in his arms, looking at him with pleading eyes.
After a long moment.
"You will raise them yourselves," Eddard Stark finally spoke.
"You will feed them yourselves, and train them yourselves."
"If they die, you will bury them with your own hands."
"Do not let others do it."
Joy instantly blossomed on the children's faces.
"There's still one more!" Jon Snow's surprised voice rang out.
He pulled another pup from a nearby snowdrift.
It had been pushed out by its companions, lying alone in the snow.
This wolf pup was entirely white, even its eyes were red.
It lay quietly, not whimpering like the other wolf pups.
"An outcast."
Ned also recalled what Lynn had just said. He had been surprised when Lynn mentioned six wolf pups, as he had only seen five.
Yet, there really were six!
This made Ned somewhat believe that Lynn could see things others could not.
'Can he really predict the future?'
Theon whistled, interrupting Ned's thoughts.
"It suits you well, Snow."
Jon ignored Theon, simply picking it up.
The small Direwolf curled up quietly in Jon's arms, neither crying nor fussing.
"The deserter was right, there really are six. This one is yours, Jon," Robb said with a smile to his bastard brother.
Robb and Jon had a good relationship.
He had reddish-brown hair and a sturdy build.
He was now 14 years old.
As Eddard Stark's son, he inherited his father's character.
He upheld honor, was loyal, and stood for justice.
Jon Snow's face also showed a rare smile.
And so, the Direwolf incident concluded.
The guards escorted Lynn again, following the group.
No one looked at him anymore.
As if his astonishing words had just been a delirious murmur in the wind.
But Lynn knew that everything was different.
Even with his head bowed, he could feel the gaze of the Lord of Winterfell lingering on his face for a very long time.
In that gaze, suspicion still existed.
But more than that, there was caution.
Robb and the others were still young and did not understand the implications of the Stag, Lion, and wolf.
But Ned knew perfectly well.
Back in Winterfell, Lynn was not sent to the gallows, nor was he thrown into the dungeon.
He was confined to a room at the base of a tower.
The room was small, with only a hard bed, a table, and a small window that let in cold air.
Winterfell, located above hot springs, had an excellent environment, with its own independent hot spring heating system.
It was not as cold as he had imagined. Compared to the days of roughing it as a Night's Watch deserter, this was practically paradise!
A guard brought a simple meal.
Black bread, roasted meat, and a steaming hot bowl of organ soup.
Lynn devoured the food, and a hint of warmth finally spread through his cold stomach.
The feeling of weakness in his body slightly receded.
He walked to the copper mirror; his appearance was still his original one, and his name was also his original name.
It was as if his transmigration had altered everyone's inherent perception around him, making everything seem so reasonable.
Perhaps this was the System's great power.
This also made Lynn feel a little more comfortable. At least he was not the ugly man who was beheaded at the beginning of the show. How would he find women then? He would probably be despised to death...
By the window, he looked out through the narrow stone slit.
He could see a corner of the castle courtyard.
Guards patrolled, and servants bustled about.
Everything seemed orderly.
But Lynn knew that beneath this calm, a great storm was brewing.
He had forcibly bound his fate to the fate of this family in an almost insane way!
The blue panel, visible only to him, reappeared before his eyes.
His gaze fell upon the glaring "Experience: 0."
The Enemy Slaying System.
To gain experience, he had to kill enemies.
But he was now an unarmed prisoner, locked in the North's strongest castle.
Who could he kill?
Lynn's brows furrowed tightly.
He had to improve his strength as quickly as possible.
In this world where lives were as cheap as grass, only power was the sole reliance.