"I assure you, whether my plans succeed or fail, I will place this matter above all else."
"I know very well who humanity's true enemy is."
Tywin Lannister stood before the remaining members of the Night's Watch, his voice firm and unwavering.
The proposal he was making was not spontaneous. He had spent the entire night contemplating his future and searching for a way forward. In the end, he had decided that securing the support of the Night's Watch—even if it amounted to nothing more than symbolic recognition—would strengthen his position.
Yet the moment his words fell silent, a voice filled with mockery rang out from the corner of the room.
"Your promises are worthless, Tywin Lannister."
The words struck like a whip.
"Betrayal has stained your vows blacker than soot."
"And as for that saying—'A Lannister always pays his debts'?"
The speaker sneered.
"You can't crap gold from your backside, and you certainly can't spit it from your mouth."
The atmosphere immediately froze.
Tywin's expression darkened as he slowly turned toward the speaker.
It was Othell Yarwyck, First Builder of the Night's Watch.
The veteran ranger sat with his arms crossed, looking at Tywin with undisguised contempt.
He had listened to Tywin's grand promises and found them utterly laughable.
Tywin snorted coldly.
"And yet, if not me, who else do you intend to trust?"
Before Yarwyck could answer, another voice spoke.
Old.
Hoarse.
Yet carrying an authority that none dared ignore.
"Do not trouble yourself, Tywin Lannister."
Maester Aemon sat quietly nearby, his blind eyes fixed toward the sound of Tywin's voice.
"The true Night's Watch does not concern itself with the politics of the Seven Kingdoms."
"If you wish to abandon your vows and pursue your ambitions, then do so."
"But do not drag our honor into your schemes."
The room grew silent.
Everyone listened.
Even Tywin.
Aemon continued.
"The purpose of the Night's Watch has never changed."
"We defend the realms of men."
"We stand against the darkness beyond the Wall."
"We do not take part in the wars of kings."
His frail voice gradually grew stronger.
"When Aegon the Conqueror slew Harren the Black and claimed his kingdom, Harren's own brother was Lord Commander of the Night's Watch."
"He commanded ten thousand men."
"Yet not one of them marched south."
"When the Seven Kingdoms fought endless wars against one another, the Night's Watch remained at its post."
"When the Andals crossed the Narrow Sea and conquered the kingdoms of the First Men, the descendants of defeated kings still honored their vows and guarded the Wall."
"For thousands of years, countless kingdoms rose and fell."
"The Night's Watch endured."
The old maester's voice became sharp.
"This is our honor."
"And you are unworthy of it."
The words struck harder than any sword.
Tywin's face visibly tightened.
The old man had ripped away every justification he had prepared.
For the first time since entering the room, the Lion of Casterly Rock appeared genuinely uncomfortable.
Benjen Stark stepped forward.
His expression was calm, but his eyes were cold.
"Maester Aemon speaks for all of us."
"The Night's Watch will not aid you."
"Abandon this idea."
Since the death of Lord Commander Jeor Mormont, the surviving loyal brothers naturally looked to Benjen Stark for leadership.
His decision represented the will of the remaining Watch.
Tywin knew immediately that his proposal had failed.
Still, the rejection was not unexpected.
The Night's Watch could offer little practical assistance.
Their numbers had been reduced to only a few dozen men.
What Tywin truly desired was legitimacy.
A title.
An ally.
A symbol.
Now that possibility was gone.
Suppressing his anger, Tywin regained his composure.
His face became expressionless once more.
"When I become king," he said coldly, "you will come begging for my support."
His gaze settled on Benjen.
"And I will remember what happened here."
Benjen merely laughed.
The sound contained neither fear nor uncertainty.
Only disappointment.
"You will never become king, Tywin."
"You will fail."
Tywin's eyes narrowed.
Benjen continued.
"You once had the opportunity to become a hero."
"When your rebellion failed and you chose surrender to save your followers, I respected you."
"Even in defeat, there can be honor."
"But everything changed after that."
His voice hardened.
"You chose conspiracy over courage."
"Betrayal over loyalty."
"Deceit over truth."
"You abandoned every principle you once possessed."
"The man standing before me is no longer worthy of trust."
"The old gods and the new will judge you."
"And when that day comes, I hope you remember this conversation."
The room fell silent once more.
Benjen turned away and returned to his bed.
Nearby, Lord Commander Mormont's raven hopped onto the wooden frame and tilted its head.
Then it let out a harsh cry.
"Punishment!"
"Punishment!"
"Punishment!"
The ugly sound echoed through the room.
Almost immediately, Maester Aemon spoke again.
"Lies only create more lies."
"And deceit only breeds more deceit."
The words sounded less like criticism and more like prophecy.
Tywin's fists clenched.
Murderous intent surged within him.
For a brief moment, he wanted nothing more than to silence everyone in the room forever.
But reason prevailed.
Killing them would accomplish nothing.
In fact, it would only destroy what little credibility he still possessed.
And despite their refusal, he still needed them alive.
The creatures they had encountered the previous night were proof enough that larger threats existed.
Suppressing his anger, Tywin turned toward the door.
"Very well."
"Let us wait and see."
He began to leave.
Yet after taking several steps, he suddenly stopped.
Turning back, he looked at the gathered brothers once more.
"If you refuse to follow me, then perhaps you can answer a question."
His tone had softened noticeably.
Benjen exchanged glances with the others.
Finally, he nodded.
"Ask."
"As long as it does not violate our vows."
Tywin hesitated briefly.
Then he spoke.
"Why has the weather become warmer?"
"On my journey here, I saw ice melting."
The reaction was immediate.
Several faces changed at once.
"It is the Ghost Summer."
Bowen Marsh spoke before he could stop himself.
Tywin frowned.
"The Ghost Summer?"
The name alone filled him with unease.
After everything that had happened the previous night, he had become increasingly sensitive to strange legends and ancient warnings.
Maester Aemon answered.
"The Ghost Summer is an unnatural warming."
"The cold retreats."
"The snows melt."
"The world feels as though summer has returned."
His blind eyes turned toward the window.
"According to old stories, it means the ghosts of summer have escaped their chains."
"Most of us view it differently."
"It is a warning."
"A sign."
"A reminder of what is coming."
The old maester's voice grew quieter.
"Because after the Ghost Summer comes the true winter."
"The cruel winter."
"The endless winter."
Qhorin Halfhand finally spoke.
"This summer has lasted ten years."
The room became colder despite the discussion of warmth.
Everyone understood what he meant.
A long summer always foretold a long winter.
And the longer the summer lasted...
The harsher the winter would be.
"Winter is coming."
Benjen unconsciously recited the words of House Stark.
No one laughed.
No one spoke.
After witnessing the blue-eyed corpse demons the night before, the ancient warning suddenly felt terrifyingly real.
The Long Night.
The catastrophe humanity had feared for eight thousand years.
Perhaps it was finally returning.
Tywin listened carefully.
A strange chill crawled down his spine.
Yet instead of fear, another thought slowly emerged.
He turned and walked toward the door again.
Then Benjen called out.
"Tywin."
The lion paused.
"I have one request."
Benjen's expression was serious.
"We recovered remains from the creatures you killed."
"I want to send evidence south."
"King's Landing must be warned."
"The Long Night is coming."
Tywin considered the request.
After a moment, he nodded.
"We leave within a few days."
"I will leave supplies and ravens behind."
"What you choose to do afterward is your own business."
Then he suddenly stopped speaking.
His hand moved to the sword at his waist.
Longclaw.
The Valyrian steel blade gleamed faintly in the room's dim light.
Tywin removed his gloves.
Slowly, he drew the sword.
A strange expression appeared on his face.
The more he thought about recent events, the brighter his eyes became.
"What if..."
His voice was barely above a whisper.
"What if this is not a warning?"
Everyone looked at him.
Tywin continued.
"The sudden warmth."
"The sword."
"The raven."
"The timing."
"What if these are not obstacles?"
"What if they are signs?"
The realization struck him like lightning.
His breathing quickened.
"The gods are helping me."
The room fell silent.
Tywin's eyes shone with renewed confidence.
"When those creatures attacked me, I somehow obtained the one weapon capable of killing them."
"When winter threatened my plans, the Ghost Summer arrived."
"When uncertainty clouded my path, answers appeared before me."
The more he spoke, the more convinced he became.
Every coincidence suddenly seemed connected.
Every obstacle now appeared transformed into opportunity.
"The gods are guiding me."
A smile slowly appeared on his face.
A rare smile.
A dangerous smile.
Perhaps even a mad one.
"You call me a traitor."
"You call me dishonorable."
"But perhaps you are wrong."
"Perhaps I am exactly what this world needs."
His grip tightened around Longclaw.
"Perhaps I am the hero destined to save mankind."
The words hung in the air.
No one responded.
No one knew what to say.
Tywin sheathed the sword and turned away.
Without another word, he left the room.
As his footsteps echoed down the corridor, his mood grew lighter and lighter.
For the first time since Robert Baratheon's death, his doubts had vanished.
Everything suddenly made sense.
The rebellion.
The betrayals.
The opportunities.
The miraculous timing of every event.
The Ghost Summer.
The Valyrian steel sword.
The corpse demons.
Each piece seemed to fit perfectly into a grand design.
Not a warning.
Not a punishment.
A calling.
Tywin's pace quickened.
The burden weighing on his heart had disappeared.
In its place stood absolute confidence.
He would seize Last Hearth.
He would defeat House Umber.
He would crush House Karstark.
He would unite the North.
And afterward...
He would build a dynasty that would endure for a thousand years.
Walking out of the Spear Tower, Tywin Lannister raised his head toward the sky.
The gloom had vanished from his face.
Only determination remained.
His green eyes burned like sharpened steel.
"I will succeed."
The words escaped his lips as a solemn vow.
And for the first time in many months, the Lion of Lannister truly believed it.
Advance Chapters avilable on patreon (Obito_uchiha)