~ 💎 WEEKLY POWER GOALS 💎🔥 60→1ch | 100→2ch | 200→5ch ⏰ Resets Monday!
Thanks!
[Volume One: The Duties of the Night’s Watch and the War Against the Wildlings]
Chapter 1: My Name Is Leon, As in Leon S.
Kennedy
(Disclaimer: This book’s timeline does not strictly follow the original novels or the TV series.
For narrative tightness and richness, all timelines follow the in-book setting.)
(Kind benefactor, before reading, could you spare a vote for updates?)
(Brain storage drop-off point)
…
This was a long summer the likes of which the older generation of Westerosi had never known.
When the morning light of the long summer’s seventh year fell upon a sentry tower at Castle Black, a boy of about fifteen or sixteen, wrapped in bearskin, lay curled beside the tower’s nearly dead stove.
The light struck his eyelids directly.
The sting forced Leon’s eyes open.
To put it plainly, Leon was not originally from this world.
He had been an utterly unremarkable high school student who, during summer break, discovered a Mount & Blade II story mod called Game of Thrones World and immediately went on a seven-day, seven-night bender.
Every day he started new save files to experience different lives, and he never tired of it.
In the end, extreme joy begot sorrow, he dropped dead at his computer desk and woke up in this world.
Leon, or rather, Night’s Watch Recruit Leon Victor, shivered.
He rose slowly, stretched, and exhaled a puff of cold breath.
Near The Wall, even on a long summer morning, the temperature was still low enough to freeze a man dead.
From inside the sentry tower, Leon looked back at Castle Black.
In the early morning mist, shadowy figures were already moving, busy for another day’s livelihood.
As a Night’s Watch Recruit, Leon’s duties did not currently include monitoring security within the castle.
The stern, dignified, and somewhat taciturn face of Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch Jeor Mormont surfaced in Leon’s mind.
Only then did Leon recall his actual mission: watching for wildlings who might have slipped in from beyond The Wall.
Having lived in a peaceful country in his previous life, Leon had never experienced a daily existence of danger like this.
He had taken the work of the Night’s Watch lightly, assuming all he had to do was stand atop a tall sentry tower or the battlements and stare at the unchanging scenery outside.
The incident two days ago had permanently corrected that mistaken notion.
So now Leon hurriedly scanned the horizon, as if trying to make amends.
But no matter how hard he tried, the morning mist limited his vision to no more than 3 or 5 li of open wilderness.
And that wilderness was crisscrossed with gullies and hills.
Farther out lay the Wolfwood, lush and green as an ocean.
Even if several hundred or a thousand wildlings were hiding right under his nose, Leon probably wouldn’t detect a single trace.
“Leon, no need to worry so much.
It’s the long summer.
Even if a few wildlings slip through the rat-holes in The Wall, they can’t cause much trouble.
Besides, we have eyes in the villages for a hundred li around.
There’s no real danger.”
The flat-toned voice came from a watchtower several meters away, clearly directed at Leon, who was obviously over-anxious.
Leon followed the voice and turned his head.
A man clad in Night’s Watch soft armor, black as a crow, was leaning half his body out from the watchtower, looking at Leon with a face full of relaxed amusement.
Even though Leon had seen this face more than once over the past seven days, he still felt an impulse to throw caution to the wind and ask for an autograph.
The reason was simple: the person within Leon’s line of sight was none other than one of the absolute male leads of the Game of Thrones series he had binge-watched countless times in his previous life, Jon Snow.
And his backstory was practically a power-fantasy template: called a bastard for half his life, only to ultimately be one of the trueborn heirs of House Targaryen.
At present, however, he was only fifteen.
Shortly after his nameday, he had followed his uncle, Benjen Stark, to The Wall.
“I don’t know whether to call you tough as nails or just utterly carefree.
The stove went out in the second half of the night and you didn’t even notice to add more firewood.”
The mocking tone in Jon’s voice was completely undisguised.
Only then did Leon notice that only one stubborn little flame remained in the sentry tower’s stove, still burning tenaciously.
In any case, blessed by great fortune not to have frozen to death in the night, Leon ought to thank that stove.
“No need to be so polite.
Brothers of the Night’s Watch naturally look out for each other.
I was the one who climbed up and down in the second half of the night to add firewood for you.
Seeing you sleeping so soundly, I didn’t wake you.
I have to say — the feeling of seeing you still alive the next day?
Not bad.”
Seeing that today Leon wore a dumbstruck, conversation-averse expression, completely lacking the over-familiar, chatty energy of the previous few days when he had insistently pulled Jon into all sorts of rambling conversations, Jon pursed his lips, found the situation a bit dull, and disappeared from Leon’s field of view.
Clearly, Jon had sat back down.
Although Jon said there was no real danger, exposing half one’s body for an extended period still made it very easy to attract an arrow shot from who-knows-where by a wildling’s hand.
On this point, a couple of days prior, an unlucky brother of the Night’s Watch had nearly proven with his life that such wishful thinking was absolutely not to be relied upon.
And Leon, most unfortunately, had personally experienced and witnessed the entire process of that brother of the Night’s Watch falling victim.
Because Leon was that brother of the Night’s Watch who had nearly died.
The wildling’s arrow had grazed past Leon’s scalp.
Had it been even one centimeter lower, Leon would have had to catch the next train on the cycle of reincarnation.
Although the First Ranger, Lord Benjen Stark, immediately led a squad of rangers to search in the direction Leon pointed, they didn’t even catch a single wildling hair.
For Leon, still in a somewhat excited state from having just arrived in this other world, this was absolutely no small blow.
From that point on, Leon’s temperament became much more silent, hesitant, and preoccupied.
Even though this young body was now more than 3 to 5 times stronger than the frail high school student constitution of his previous life.
Leon still didn’t dare bet that his skull was harder than a wildling’s conical arrow tipped with wolf’s tooth.
These seven days had passed in the blink of an eye.
Even Leon, who upon first arriving had an exuberant curiosity about everything around him, found that, faced with the endless wilderness before his eyes and the spider-sense warnings his sixth sense occasionally sent him, his curiosity had been replaced by deep reluctance and the fear of death.
In fact, every time he stood guard on the sentry tower, Leon couldn’t help but let his eyes lose focus, pondering what method he could use to escape this damnable place.
But in the mess hall, Leon had heard more than once the news of Night’s Watch deserters being caught by the northern lords and executed on the spot.
Listening to the veterans talk without restraint about the ways those deserters died, and watching the cruel smiles that occasionally surfaced on their faces, Leon felt a chill run through his entire body.
Setting aside whether he would be lucky enough to escape the North, given his utterly ignorant understanding of this world, Leon would probably find a hundred ways to die if he tried.
But if he didn’t flee, could he just accept this?
Even if Leon knew very little about this world, he was thunderously familiar with the White Walkers that spanned all eight seasons of the TV series.
Even more terrifying was that he was on the very front line of fighting the White Walkers.
With the level of self-defense he had learned from short videos, after 3 to 5 exchanges, the White Walker would probably have to kneel down and press on his philtrum, begging him not to die.
And even if he died, with a wave of the Night King’s venerable hand, Leon would have to stand right back up and play the role of a walking corpse.
Truly, an eternity without release!
“God in heaven — ah, no, the Seven above — no, Northerners follow the Old Gods…
Whatever!
Whichever god among the myriad heavens shows their power, please, come save this lost lamb!”
Thinking this far, Leon plopped his rear back down onto the wooden floor inside the arrow tower, muttering under his breath.
By all logic in other novels, the protagonist would receive a system the moment they landed.
For Leon to still be in a situation where he had to pray on his own was truly a rare case.
But better late than never.
“Sorry I’m late…
Congratulations, Host, on awakening the Mount & Blade Panel!
A complimentary Many-Faced God System is also included.”
➤ Next: The Panel Is Mine!
Activate Slaughter Mode