Swords clanged across the yard, another ordinary day at Castle Black.
Commander Mormont had taken the pressure from the Royce Family off the three survivors of the patrol. Now, the three men who escaped the White Walkers' swords were cleared of desertion charges and could move freely within Castle Black again.
At this moment, Aegon and Tyrion were standing on the balcony by the Castle Black yard, leaning against the railing and looking down at the new recruits training below. It vaguely felt like being back in college, standing by the sports field watching the new batch of freshmen participate in military training.
Somewhat regrettably, among these new recruits below, there were not only no women, but also very few men with decent looks.
...
Jon, dressed in a black wool shirt, leather vest, and chainmail, was in the center of the yard, sparring with his opponent using a training sword.
There were nearly twenty recruits in this batch, and counting Jon the volunteer, it was a large number compared to previous years. Their ages generally ranged from fourteen to eighteen, but none of them were a match for the youngest bastard when it came to fighting – some were agile but timid and even more cowardly than Will; some didn't grasp the technique and kept stabbing with their swords as if they were daggers; one was simply as weak as a girl... The common point among most recruits was that they were simple-minded, slow, and clumsy... Jon was like a tiger among wolves in this group. In just a few minutes, he had already defeated four people consecutively. At this moment, he used a beautiful feint to trip the fifth thick-necked recruit, hitting him on the head. As the opponent retreated, he parried his sword and struck the opponent's abdomen with his elbow.
The thick-necked recruit lost his balance and fell heavily into the snow, his blunt sword slipping from his hand.
Aegon had to admit that Jon's swordsmanship was indeed as good as he boasted. Even if he, an 'old soldier' who was ten years older and had joined the Black Cloaks a year earlier, were to spar with him, he could only hope for a draw by defending the entire time.
The training was stopped by the recruit drillmaster. Ser Alliser Thorne, who was forced to come to The Wall after being on the losing side in the War of the Usurper, naturally had no goodwill towards the victor's bastard. He and Jon had a conversation in the yard. It was too far to hear the content, but it was clearly not a friendly or pleasant exchange, as anger appeared on the boy's face.
...
"The kid's skills are indeed good," Tyrion commented. Several days had passed since the forced march, but his backside was still numb and he couldn't sit down; only standing was comfortable. "However, for his future 'brothers,' his attacks are a bit too ruthless."
"Joining the Night's Watch for honor, only to find out it's completely different from what he imagined, the sense of loss and resentment from feeling abandoned by his Father is indescribable, and it's all being vented as strength onto his opponents."
"Truly concise, you sound like a poet again," Tyrion smiled. "But if he continues like this, it will be difficult for him to get along in the Night's Watch. Someone needs to tell him what to do."
"You truly have a kind heart."
"I can't help it, I just have a little flaw. I always can't help but sympathize with bastards, cripples, other freaks, and everyone who gets into trouble due to bad luck."
"Then if I encounter trouble, but am luckily pitied because I am the last type on your list, is that good luck or bad luck?"
"Hmm... good question, you've stumped me."
As the days of their acquaintance grew, their relationship became increasingly casual and close. The Dwarf indeed had the makings of a protagonist. Despite his noble birth, he never put on airs or looked down on others. "Not being disliked" is actually a skill, one of the manifestations of intelligence. With just this, combined with a good mind, he is destined to accomplish great things.
At this moment, he smiled and said, "How are things on your end?"
"The First Ranger has already started preparing for the next patrol, and I'm responsible for guiding them." Aegon was anxious inside, but on the surface, he said lightly, "How long will you be staying at The Wall?"
"As long as I want to, I don't have a bunch of national affairs to deal with." The Dwarf shrugged. "How long does a patrol usually take?"
"At least one or two months, up to half a year."
"That's a shame. I was hoping you could catch a White Walker and bring it back for me to see, to prove you weren't exaggerating," Tyrion said with a look of deep regret. "My main purpose in coming here was to see the legendary Wall, and then climb to the top and pee off the edge of the world. I can't stay that long."
Catch a White Walker? The collection of dragonglass weapons has only just begun. The materials obtained so far are not enough to equip a patrol team, let alone its inherent fragility as glass, which makes it impossible to use as a conventional weapon like valyrian steel... Dragonglass weapons are destined to only be used to seize opportunities to kill ice magic creatures. Its existence merely changes humanity's situation from "certain defeat" to "possible survival" when facing White Walkers, it doesn't have the heaven-defying function of reversing the advantage. Going beyond The Wall without full preparation, he would be thankful to come back alive, let alone consider capturing one?
The time to deal with White Walkers is actually far from ripe, but the stubbornness of the Stark Family was inherited by someone. No matter how Aegon tried to persuade him, Benjen refused to give up or postpone this patrol.
"Lord, it might be possible to catch a wight, but a White Walker... please forgive us, we really don't have that capability," Aegon explained somewhat impatiently. "Lord Benjen's patrol this time is actually to verify the existence of White Walkers. After he returns from this trip, the Night's Watch may be able to plan an action to find evidence to prove to the world..."
If he participated in this patrol, he would most likely not return. The best solution was to find a way to avoid the mission!
Although he was talking and laughing with Tyrion at the moment, the Dwarf was after all a genuine Lannister, a great Lord – he had already agreed to help him. If he still urged him, what was he treating him as?
...
"Alright, it was just a joke. I'm willing to take you away from The Wall, and it's not because you killed some nonsense magic creature." The Dwarf shrugged. "No need to explain further. I'll go find your Commander now and ask for you. Also, I told you, don't call me Lord."
"Okay, Tyrion." Aegon breathed a sigh of relief and smiled gratefully. "Then I'll wait for your good news."
"Hopefully I won't disappoint you." The Dwarf finished speaking and walked briskly with his short legs, hunching his back and shuffling towards the Commander's office. After a few steps, he turned back and waved at him. "Find a place to sit, you don't need to wait for me here."
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