Just like with his other skills, the system didn't bother giving any description for his newly acquired skill. Ronin had to run a few experiments on his own to figure out its functions.
In simple terms, it radiated a powerful aura within a 10-meter radius around him, putting subtle pressure on anyone inside the range. It could also be focused on a single target, greatly intensifying the effect.
All in all, Majesty was another auxiliary skill that didn't provide any direct combat power to Ronin which, honestly, left him a bit disappointed.
But it wasn't a loss either. The fact that it was a ranged skill that could affect multiple people at once was worth all the gold dragons he had invested.
More importantly, it could play a significant role in negotiations—something Ronin urgently needed right now.
And Roose Bolton became his first test subject.
"Lord Bolton…" Ronin paused slightly, his gaze firmly locked onto Roose Bolton.
It wasn't aggressive, yet it made Roose Bolton, who was accustomed to respect, fear, and flattery, feel an odd sense of unease, instinctively making him want to pay attention to what the other party had to say.
"I am a person who values friendship," Ronin said. "Although you are loyal to the King in the North and your current relationship with Ser Jaime can indeed be considered hostile to some extent, I believe no one would want to refuse genuine friendship as long as it's built on shared goals and mutual benefits."
"I do not deny that," Roose admitted honestly.
"To tell you the truth, my lord," Ronin continued, "Ser Jaime and I have come here to offer you a 'friendship' that could greatly benefit both of us. If you do not object, I can explain the first step in establishing it."
He returned the question, showing both respect and testing the waters at the same time.
From what he knew about Roose Bolton, he was an ambitious individual. He would inevitably choose to board the Lannister's boat, but his ambitions didn't just end there.
Sure enough, Roose Bolton did not answer immediately. Instead, he studied Ronin's face hidden in the shadows, as if trying to gauge his true intentions.
Unfortunately, Ronin maintained a polite smile the whole time, not even blinking, and Bolton couldn't discern anything at all.
After a long pause, he replied softly, "I am listening."
With these words, a heavy weight seemed to be lifted off Ronin's shoulders. This wasn't just polite formality—Bolton's words gave a clear signal. It formally marked the beginning of a "fair" negotiation between them.
Having achieved the initial breakthrough, Ronin still retained a polite smile, slowly raising a finger.
"The first is a 'gift'. A token of our sincerity."
"A gift?" Roose Bolton raised an eyebow, amusement flickering across his face.
"Yes, a gift," Ronin said confidently. "Vargo Hoat and his Brave Companions. They are affiliated with Harrenhal, nominally loyal to the King in the North, yet they pillage the Riverlands and flay innocents, ruining your reputation."
"They are like leeches attached to your skin, my lord—constantly sucking blood, and capable of turning against you at any moment."
Roose Bolton countered, "But I rather like leeches."
Hearing this, Ronin knew the other party was not lying. In the original work, Roose Bolton did enjoy "leech therapy"—placing leeches on his body to draw out impurities, believing it would improve his health and longevity.
"As a professional healer, my lord, I must remind you," Ronin advised sincerely. "Using leeches occasionally is effective, but they may one day grow strong and refuse to let go. At that point, even if you forcibly remove them, you could lose a layer of skin."
Ronin continued, "And through our utmost efforts, I'm delighted to tell you, my lord, that we have successfully removed these leeches, eliminating a potential threat for you. This is the first 'gift' I offer you."
Roose Bolton listened silently, his pale fingers lightly tapping the armrest of his chair.
"Oh?" he said finally, his cold voice laced with a hint of sarcasm. "According to your words, I should thank you properly then, right?"
He acknowledged the upsides of eliminating the Brave Companions, but a gift of this magnitude was far from enough to make him concede.
Ronin had expected as much. He paused, then raised a second finger. "Second, Lord Bolton, let us discuss the lord you currently serve—the King in the North, Robb Stark."
As he mentioned the Young Wolf, Ronin neither showed reverence nor disdain. His tone was completely calm and indifferent; he might as well have been naming a horse he was thinking of buying.
This, however, piqued Roose Bolton's interest. He shifted in his chair, unconsciously sitting a bit straighter, wanting to hear what this unusual commoner thought of the king he served.
"It must be acknowledged," Ronin began, "that he is young and courageous, like a newly risen direwolf, and his march south has certainly brought him many victories."
He paused just long enough for the fire to crack in the hearth.
"But a true king needs more than just skill in battle." He said calmly, as if stating the weather. "Even if he continues to remain victorious on the battlefield, the North is still going to lose this war."
The certainty in his tone stunned the whole room.
The prestige of the Northern army was currently at its peak, having occupied most of the Riverlands with the support of House Tully.
Word had it that Robb Stark was already gathering his forces and preparing to launch a full-scale assault on Casterly Rock.
"Your claim is completely baseless, healer!"
Brienne, sworn to Lady Catelyn, snapped back before anyone else could respond. "Since riding south, the King in the North has not lost a single battle. It's only a matter of time before the Lannisters fall."
Her tone was sharp, but her words echoed what most people believed, including Jaime himself.
"Easy," Jaime said, quickly placing a hand on her shoulder to calm her down.
Her stubbornness sometimes reminded him of Cersei. After all, knowing something was one thing—but saying it out loud in front of others was another, especially considering the fact that they were currently sitting at a negotiating table.
Reason told Jaime that Brienne's actions just now would ruin the opportunity Ronin had worked so hard to secure.
He glanced at Roose Bolton, half expecting him to object to Ronin's words, but the man remained completely silent, offering neither protest nor correction.
"There is reason behind what I say, my lords."
Ronin didn't seem bothered by Brienne's outburst, and the faint smile on his face suggested he had fully expected it.
"Mainly three, to be exact."
He lifted three fingers.
"First: he broke his marriage pact with House Frey for a woman. That was not only betrayal—it severed his most important alliance and supply line."
"Second: he fights far away from home, deep in the South, while leaving the Riverlands—his supposed ally—ruined and exhausted, unable to support him."
"His army is a sharp arrow without a bowstring. No matter how far it flies, it will eventually snap in his grip."
"And third… the most crucial of all."
Ronin leaned forward, the candlelight catching his dark eyes as he held Roose Bolton's gaze.
"Our King in the North is not as… honorable… as his father."
Roose Bolton's couldn't help but be moved after hearing this.
These seemingly disrespectful words phad genuinely struck a chord deep inside him.
The Boltons had bent the knee to the Starks long ago, but their ambitions had never fully faded. Still, when Eddard Stark became Lord of Winterfell, even Roose Bolton had to admit the man's integrity was beyond doubt.
He had thought more than once that under such a lord, one at least didn't have to worry about being exploited—or worse, betrayed—by their liege. So much that he even tried to raise his eldest son to be like Eddard Stark, but unfortunately…
"Your words are somewhat excessive, Ronin Graves," Roose Bolton said at last. Even if he agreed with Ronin's assessment of Robb, he could not show it on his face.
His expression remained unreadable as he continued, "We fight for honor."
"Honor?" Ronin let out an unmasked sneer. "What about Lord Rickard Karstark then?"
"He gave more than most in the previous wars, and even his two sons died protecting their liege in the Whispering Wood."
Ronin gestured toward Jaime, who still seemed to be immersed in his beef.
Jaime felt the eyes on him; he looked up to see Ronin's gesture, and lifted a brow.
Those two Karstark sons had indeed died under his sword. And though he'd been captured that day, he had never counted it as a defeat. He had personally slain more than a dozen of the Young Wolf's guards, only a few steps short of emulating Barristan's feat of taking an enemy general's head amidst ten thousand troops—singlehandedly turning the tide of the entire battle.
Those few steps still haunted him, becoming eternal regret in his heart.
He sighed inwardly, then lowered his head and returned to tearing at the poor piece of beef.
Ronin, meanwhile, refocused his gaze on Roose Bolton. "So, Lord Bolton, please tell me—did House Karstark win honor?"
"No!" he continued, his voice sharpening. "Lord Rickard—a father who lost both his sons, a loyal vassal who had shed blood for his liege—just killed a couple of Lannister prisoners out of grief. And our 'honorable' King in the North answered by ordering his execution."
"Lord Bolton, you wouldn't want to meet the same end as Lord Rickard Karstark, would you?"
When his voice fell, the sitting room fell into heavy silence. The fire crackled in the hearth, illuminating Roose Bolton's faintly cracked expression.
Jaime stopped chewing, his tight lips betraying his inner turmoil. He couldn't help it. Ronin's words had struck something truly dangerous—he was practically openly challenging the loyalty of a great lord to his liege.
How would Bolton react?
Beside him, Brienne's jaw was clenched so hard that Jaime could see the muscle jumping.
To her, Lady Catelyn was a guiding star, and House Stark was the embodiment of justice and honor. Ronin's blasphemous words made her blood boil with anger, and it was taking everything she had to restrain herself and not confront him right then and there.
The tension hung for a long while before Roose Bolton finally spoke, breaking the silence. "This is not your concern, Ronin Graves."
"Even if King Robb is prejudiced in certain matters, House Bolton's loyalty will not waver in the slightest," he stated with absolute certainty.
Ronin studied his impassive face, thinking wryly, 'I trust you as much as I trust a ghost.'
How could he not understand Roose Bolton's intentions?
The man was drawing a boundary, reminding him that this was an internal matter of the North. But at the same time, he did not refute Ronin's evaluation of Robb Stark, making his stance completely uncertain.
His acting skills were spot on, and not even Insight Lv1 could detect any flaw in his expression. If Ronin didn't know the original story, he might have really been fooled by him.
Roose leaned back in his chair and continued, "Now, I'd like to hear more about that 'friendship' you spoke of and how it can benefit both of us."
Ronin smiled in response. "Of course, Lord Bolton. As I said before, clear interests maintain a relationship longer than empty vows. And I am a man who is very keen on discussing business with friends."
He extended a finger and lightly tapped the air. "All we require is for you to lend a helping hand, providing a travel permit to us so we can ride south to King's Landing without being stopped at every crossroads."
Roose Bolton interjected, cutting straight to the chase. "Then what do I get in return?"
"What is it you seek, Lord Bolton?" Ronin didn't answer outright, instead circling the point. "You are already Lord of the Dreadfort, second only to none, above countless others…"
Roose Bolton, perceptive as ever, immediately understood the implications behind Ronin's words, and the corner of his mouth twitched faintly.
"Your words are very bold, Ronin Graves. But why should I trust the empty promises of a stranger?"
When he said this, Brienne's eyes moved between him and Ronin in confusion. Was he… accepting? But on what terms? She didn't recall Ronin making any offer!
"You don't need to trust my promise," Ronin replied calmly. "We both know that if I were lying, the moment I reached King's Landing I'd face Lord Tywin's blade."
"I absolutely won't wager with my life."
Roose Bolton observed his face without blinking, as if searching for any hint of falsehood. After a moment, he gave a small nod. "I can trust you. However… I require more than just a verbal guarantee."
As he spoke, his gaze drifted from Jaime to Brienne of Tarth, who looked utterly confused. He lifted a pale finger and pointed at her.
"This woman must remain here."