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Today’s duel had been an eye-opener for Leon.
He’d also developed a trace of respect for Jon.
Even facing an opponent clad in heavy armor, seemingly invincible, Jon hadn’t begged for mercy.
He hadn’t given up.
Relying on his exquisite swordsmanship, he’d gradually seized the upper hand.
In Leon’s assessment, this fledgling Jon’s two-handed sword proficiency was no less than 150 points.
Leon himself possessed a staggering 300 points in one-handed mastery.
He knew full well that Jon’s potential and strength were not to be underestimated.
The future title of the North’s Greatest Swordsman was, in truth, well-deserved.
It made Leon wonder: if he faced the current Jon, what would his odds of victory be?
“Hmm.
Not to be immodest, but I could probably give him a thirty-move handicap.”
After careful observation and thought, Leon arrived at this conclusion with perfect calm.
Of course, it was merely speculation based on experience and technique.
Leon had never truly crossed swords with Jon, so he couldn’t say exactly how many moves would be appropriate.
After all, in the world of Mount & Blade II, with 300 one-handed proficiency, the damage output could probably slay a dragon in two strikes.
The one-second-five-strikes Ximen Swordswoman would have no say whatsoever before Leon, she might even have to address him as Honored Master Leon.
“Lord Snow.
Do you still not intend to beg for mercy?”
Amid the clanging and clashing of blades, Jon and Hodd had already fought fiercely for over a dozen exchanges.
Relying on his unarmored, agile frame, Jon had kept Hodd suppressed.
But in a world of conflict, you were bound to take hits.
A single light graze from the flat of Hodd’s blade against his arm was enough.
Jon’s sword hand went weak.
Facing Hodd’s savage, bull-like strikes, he could only barely parry, no strength left to counter.
Hearing Hodd’s victor’s taunt, Jon clenched his jaw and said nothing.
His eyes conveyed his resolve clearly enough.
Beg for mercy?
Never!
Jon’s stubbornness earned him no mercy.
His tenacious resistance couldn’t last.
Three or four exchanges later, the sword was smashed from his grip, and Hodd’s boot sent him flying two or three meters back.
Fortunately, he landed on a pile of fodder.
Battered and humiliated, but not seriously hurt.
Still, Jon felt utterly drained.
He couldn’t rise to fight anymore.
In the final moment, he used the last ounce of his strength to turn his head.
He cast a silent, guilt-ridden look at Leon, as if to say: Sorry, brother.
I couldn’t do it.
Looks like we won’t be brothers of the Night’s Watch together after all.
“Bastard is as bastard does.
Your strength is so pitiful it’s like you didn’t fully develop in your mother’s womb.
Can’t even beat Hodd — and you despise him most of all.
To think you’re a seed of House Stark.
Truly, you bring shame to your father.”
“Perhaps your father doesn’t consider you his son at all.
Perhaps he merely regards you as some wild bastard picked up from outside.”
As Alliser’s words fell, the surrounding gamblers, seeing Jon’s wretched state, gleefully collected their bets.
Even Jon’s friend Edd was speechless.
He could only lower his head and endure the mockery.
Then a voice rang out.
Leon had felt Jon’s guilt-ridden gaze.
Without hesitation, he stepped forward.
He fixed a stern glare directly on Alliser Thorne upon the high platform and shouted at the top of his lungs:
“This is unfair!”
“Oh?
Mister Ladybug from the South — is there some injustice you feel I might be of service in addressing?”
Leon, being close to Jon, had long been tarred with the same brush by Alliser Thorne’s hatred.
But Leon’s usual low profile made it difficult for Alliser to find leverage against him.
Now, with Leon suddenly stepping forward, Alliser’s mood grew exceptionally complicated.
He felt contempt.
And also a measure of excitement and satisfaction, as if double happiness had arrived at his door.
To deal with two eyesores in a single day.
Could there be anything more delightful?
“Ah, I forgot to tell you.
Within the training yard, the rules are set by me.
Regarding the matter of Jon’s equipment, I can only refuse to apologize.
It was my order.
You have no right to refute it, unless you wish to leave.”
Alliser Thorne’s words carried hidden barbs.
He positioned himself on the moral high ground to deal with Leon.
The surrounding Night’s Watch recruits who held sympathy for Jon instantly extinguished their thoughts under his rhetoric.
Even Edd, the old pal who’d always been displeased with Leon, upon seeing such a loyal and honorable act, quietly tugged at Leon from behind.
A wise man doesn’t fight against unfavorable odds.
Timing, position, and popular support were all on Alliser Thorne’s side.
Why clash head-on?
Leon merely shook off Edd’s hand with a light twist.
Then he took a resolute step forward.
“Lord Ladybug, do you intend to stand up for Lord Snow?
The rules have changed.
If you don’t wish to scrub latrines alongside Lord Snow, you’ll have to fight three men.
Otherwise, forget it.
Hahaha.”
The corner of Alliser Thorne’s mouth curled.
No sooner had his words fallen than more than three Night’s Watch recruits with grudges against Jon emerged.
Tarred with the same hatred, they were eager to teach Leon a lesson as well.
Just as Alliser Thorne was about to press the attack further, Leon spoke again.
“This is still unfair.”
“Oh?
Lord Ladybug — are you backing down?” Alliser taunted.
“No.” Leon’s answer was firm.
He swept a glance over the recruits who had stepped forward.
As he took their measure, a contemptuous smile crossed his face.
He shook his head.
“I want…
to fight ten.”
➤ Next: The Supporting Extra: Do You Have Any Last Words?