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It seemed the people of Westeros were unfamiliar with the legend of a certain nameless martial arts master who knew a little bit of everything.
When Leon spoke those utterly arrogant words in a tone of perfect indifference, every living creature around him froze as if struck by a binding spell.
Even Alliser Thorne, ever full of spite, forgot himself entirely.
His mouth fell open.
“Did that brat…
just say something?”
“I didn’t catch it clearly either, but whatever our Ladybug gentleman said, it sounded incredibly stylish.”
“He said he’ll take on ten.”
“…Take on ten?”
It took a long moment for the crowd to snap out of their daze, even after they’d confirmed, again and again, that they had neither misheard nor misunderstood Leon’s meaning.
Then, as if by unspoken agreement, everyone burst into the most thunderous applause and laughter of their lives.
The commotion from the training yard was so astonishing it could be heard from every corner of Castle Black, small as the fortress was.
At that moment, whether occupied with work or merely passing by, people found themselves seized by curiosity, drawn toward the training yard to see what in the world was going on.
“Strange,” a passerby mused on his way.
“Isn’t today the Night’s Watch recruitment selection?
I don’t recall hearing anything about a circus coming to town.”
On the haystack, Jon did not feel heartened by Leon’s astonishing words.
He felt deeply ashamed, secretly wishing he were a groundhog so he could dig a hole and vanish into the earth.
Jon and Leon had always been close.
If even he reacted this way, everyone else’s response was perfectly understandable.
The little demon was the first to reach the training yard.
Though born with a disability and forced to walk on two stunted legs, whenever there was gossip, he was always first on the scene, an innate talent of his as a dwarf, perhaps.
After catching the half-understood, half-muddled retellings from those around him, it wasn’t long before not only the little demon but nearly half of Castle Black’s residents had learned of Leon’s boastful declaration.
Even Lord Commander Jeor Mormont, swamped with endless duties and rarely seen by the Night’s Watch, and Maester Aemon of Castle Black were stirred into action.
The two decided to make an appearance together.
The moment they arrived, the boisterous training yard quieted considerably.
Once the two highest-ranking authority figures had grasped the full story, Maester Aemon didn’t even have time to smile.
His aged, kindly face turned earnestly toward Leon at the yard’s center, and he asked with gravity: “Leon, if I recall correctly, your House Viktor is not known for valor or loose tongues.
Is that right?”
At Maester Aemon’s question, even with Jeor Mormont present to suppress the mood, quite a few people in the yard still couldn’t help snickering.
“Replying to Maester Aemon, my House Viktor’s sigil is the thorn and the sword.
Our house words are: ‘Burn a Bloody Road.'”
“Oh?
It seems you do remember.
So tell me — have you burned yourself into a fever, or has your head simply not finished healing?”
Maester Aemon pressed on with a perfectly straight face.
After a few rounds of this back-and-forth, laughter rippled through the yard in waves, each cresting higher than the last.
Jeor Mormont, a man known for his short temper, showed a rarely seen gentle side on this occasion.
“Young man, your courage in standing up for your comrades is commendable.
But the prerequisite is that you must not harm yourself.
Are you certain you wish to challenge 10 opponents?
I only ask that you answer me honestly.”
“Replying to the Lord Commander, with my martial skill, taking on 10 is no exaggeration.
Were it not for the proper order of rank and seniority, I would have wished to challenge the Master-at-Arms himself today.”
Leon’s answer was neither servile nor arrogant.
It sounded inspiring, from the perspective of bystanders, at least.
Not so much from those who thought Leon had lost his mind.
Whether Leon was arrogant or suicidal, Jeor Mormont no longer cared to probe.
In his view, that earlier question had been the final way out he’d offered as Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch, a gesture of acknowledgment, after understanding the full story, of the deep bond between Leon and Jon.
But for Jeor Mormont, three strikes and you’re out.
He’d given the boy an exit.
The boy refused to take it.
So be it.
The Lord Commander turned, parted the crowd, and left.
Many seasoned, experienced senior officers of the Night’s Watch left with him.
In their eyes, today’s affair was nothing but a farce.
In recent years, as the quality of Night’s Watch Recruits had steadily declined, the castle that once stood tall and majestic, humanity’s shield against the White Walkers, had become a motley den of every sort.
They had long grown accustomed to all kinds.
In their eyes, Leon was merely the weakest and most arrogant of the lot.
The outcome, therefore, was already decided.
Maester Aemon, however, did not leave.
Instead, he summoned an apprentice, quietly gave a few instructions, and the apprentice hurried back carrying a medicine chest.
Clearly, Maester Aemon possessed a heart of compassion to match his gentle exterior.
When the Lord Commander had appeared, Alliser Thorne had worried his methods might have gone too far, that the Lord Commander would intervene, or at least ensure a fair contest for Leon.
But to his great relief, the Lord Commander had voiced no opinion whatsoever.
The bout would proceed exactly as planned.
“How much longer must you worthless lot keep the audience waiting?
Do I need to call your names one by one and order you to come challenge our ‘Lord Take-on-Ten’?”
From the high platform, Alliser Thorne’s face twisted into an expression of cruel anticipation.
Like a slave pit-master of Yunkai, he had carefully selected the 10 most capable fighters to step forward.
“Master-at-Arms!
No need for ten — I alone am enough!”
Hod saw that the yard was packed with Castle Black residents.
Among them were quite a few girls he fancied.
Driven by a powerful urge to show off, and still riding the high of having just defeated his longtime rival Jon, he couldn’t stop himself from shouting out.
His words had the opposite effect.
While a portion of the crowd cheered Hod’s declaration, more faces showed clear displeasure.
It seemed people still wanted to see Leon take on 10.
“You stone-headed fool!
What nonsense are you spouting?
Ten!
One fewer is an insult to Lord Ladybug!”
On the high platform, Alliser Thorne’s face nearly spasmed with rage at Hod’s brainless outburst.
Even if he himself entered the fray, he might not easily defeat 10 fully armored Night’s Watch Recruits, let alone Leon, who, under the same conditions as Jon before him, was forbidden to wear armor.
In Alliser Thorne’s eyes, those conditions were nothing less than a death trap laid specifically for Leon.
He absolutely could not tolerate any mishap derailing his plan.
So Alliser Thorne shot a quick, sharp look at the recruits around him, ordering them to act immediately and put an end to Hod’s self-aggrandizing farce.
“Heh heh.
Lord Ladybug — any last words prepared?” Hod strode forward brimming with confidence.
Before chopping off Leon’s head, he wanted to mimic the airs of great men and demand the boy’s dying words.
Leon merely tilted his head, light as anything, and said: “Are you the first to come and die?”
The words hit like a drop of cold water into hot oil.
The surrounding crowd erupted.
A few who had never heard anything so hilarious burst out laughing on the spot, lost their breath, and fainted.
But for Hod, one of the parties directly involved, the feeling was entirely different.
He felt provoked.
In Leon’s clear pupils, his own reflection seemed as ridiculous as a Wildling covered in hair.
Hod’s fury ignited.
He was the first to charge at Leon.
Close behind came far more than 10 Night’s Watch Recruits, packed together like a flock of crows, eager to devour Leon whole and leave not a single bone behind.
As the clash was about to erupt, the crowd held its breath and surged forward, thirsting to witness Leon’s likely gruesome end in the next instant.
Yet among these onlookers, not a single soul showed the slightest sympathy for Leon.
Those who still harbored any trace of pity in their hearts had all dispersed with Jeor Mormont’s departure.
Only those eager to watch a spectacle and revel in chaos remained on the field.
➤ Next: Bloodlust Unleashed, Stamina Restored (Revised Edition, Protagonist Unharmed,…