That deserter...
No.
He is no deserter.
The thought flashed through Robb Stark's mind.
A deserter wouldn't have eyes like that! He was a true warrior!
Lynn's chest heaved violently with rapid breaths, but his sword hand remained rock steady.
A bearded bandit leader let out a beastly roar, shattering the brief silence.
"What the fuck are you scared of?!"
"They're on horses, we can't outrun them! Fight them!"
"Get in there! Kill at least one before you die!"
Fear was replaced by a more primal ferocity, and the remaining bandits surged forward again. Some of them had noticed it, too. The man in black seemed more threatening—a tough nut to crack—but the continuous killing had pushed him to his limit. If two men surrounded him, no matter how strong he was, he wouldn't last long against four hands.
Robb saw through the bandits' intent and roared, trying to lead his men closer to Lynn.
"Stop them!"
Seeing Robb issuing orders, another group of bandits instantly realized who the leader was. They turned and attacked Robb and his men from the flank with reckless abandon, forcing Robb to engage them.
Lynn's eyes narrowed. He hadn't expected to draw so much attention.
Then again, killing three men in quick succession made it hard not to be noticed.
Lynn backed up against a thick pine tree. This way, he only had to face enemies from the front and sides. Robb and the others were drawing most of the bandits' attention, which greatly reduced the pressure on Lynn.
A bandit charged first, his poleaxe whistling as he chopped down at Lynn's head.
Lynn didn't block it directly. He slid his feet, pressing his body against the tree trunk, dodging the axe blade by a hair's breadth. Wood chips flew. The axe bit deep into the trunk.
This is the opening!
Lynn flipped his wrist, driving his longsword upward.
Pfft!
The tip of the sword cleanly sliced open the bandit's unprotected throat. Blood sprayed out, leaving a shocking streak of red on the grey-white bark.
[Enemy Killed: 1. Experience +1]
Before the body could even fall, another bandit's scimitar swept in, aiming straight for Lynn's waist.
Lynn twisted his waist and swung his sword to parry.
Clang!
Metal clashed against metal, sending sparks flying. Just as he blocked, a bandit suddenly appeared from the side and lunged. He had no proper weapon, just a sharpened wooden stake, but he stabbed viciously at Lynn's ribs.
There was no room to retreat. It was a matter of life and death.
Thwip!
A stray arrow cut through the air, accurately nailing the stake-wielding bandit through the eye socket. His scream cut off abruptly. The bandit's body stiffened for a second, then slumped softly to the ground.
Lynn's attention had been drawn to the ambusher, and the bandit whose scimitar he had just parried grinned savagely, raising his blade again.
The blade flashed. Lynn tried his best to dodge, but could only manage to turn his body sideways.
A tearing pain erupted from his left shoulder. Clothes were sliced open, flesh curled back, and blood instantly stained half his body red.
Lynn grunted, stumbling. The intense pain stimulated his nerves but didn't make him lose his reason. Instead, it ignited a ferocity deep in his bones.
He didn't retreat. Using the momentum of his stumble, he slammed forward, driving his shoulder hard into the bandit's chest.
The bandit hadn't expected him to be so bold after being wounded. Caught off guard, he was knocked back several steps.
Lynn's sword moved. A simple, direct upward slash.
Rip!
With no iron armor for protection, the sword edge sliced from the bandit's lower abdomen all the way up, splitting his chest open. Entrails mixed with blood spilled onto the ground.
The savage grin froze on the bandit's face. He looked down at his empty abdominal cavity, his eyes filled with disbelief and despair.
[Enemy Killed: 1. Experience +1]
Seeing that he was wounded, Lynn stopped pushing himself and moved toward the edge of the battlefield.
"Roar!"
Robb Stark's battle cry rang out. The young Robb was seeing red. He had completely ignited the wolf blood within him. He no longer stuck to the rigid swordsmanship taught by the Master-at-Arms. Though young, every swing was full of power—wide, sweeping strikes carrying the unique wildness of the North.
One bandit had his arm severed by Robb's sword, falling to the ground screaming. Another was cleaved down, shield and all.
Because of the explosive performance of Lynn and Robb, the tide of battle began to turn rapidly.
The bandit leader saw this, his eyes nearly popping with rage. He abandoned his fight with the Stark guards and made to flee. But in doing so, he ran right into Lynn, who was also trying to maneuver to the outside.
Seeing Lynn was wounded, the bandit leader roared and swung a blood-stained two-handed great axe, charging straight at him. Before he even arrived, a thick stench of blood and sweat hit Lynn's face.
The axe blade whipped up a foul wind as it crashed down.
Lynn didn't dodge. He was exhausted; he couldn't escape the reach of a polearm no matter how he tried. He bent his knees slightly, sank his center of gravity, and held his longsword horizontally in front of him.
Clang!
A loud bang. Lynn blocked with the thickest part of the blade, deflecting the lethal axe to his side. The massive impact shook his arms violently. The wound on his shoulder tore open again, pain blacking out his vision for a moment.
Surprise flashed in the bandit leader's eyes, quickly replaced by cruelty. He bore down on the axe, intending to crush this stubborn opponent completely.
But Lynn had achieved his goal. He used that block to buy a chance to get in close.
Lynn suddenly released his left hand from the hilt and spun his body to the right. His right elbow, like a cannonball leaving the barrel, slammed viciously into the bandit leader's ribs.
Crack!
The crisp sound of shattering bone. The bandit leader let out a pained grunt, his massive body stiffening for a split second from the agony.
At the same time, Robb, unwilling to let the leader escape, arrived and thrust his longsword forward.
Pfft!
The longsword sank in to the hilt, accurately piercing the bandit leader's chest.
Afraid Robb would steal the kill, Lynn quickly picked up a longsword from the ground and stabbed it through the bandit's eye socket.
[Enemy Leader Killed: 1. Experience +2]
The fierce light in the bandit leader's eyes faded rapidly. Lynn yanked the sword out. The massive bandit was dead.
It actually gave two points of experience?
It seems the stronger the opponent, the more experience given. But he must not have been that strong, or he wouldn't have just given two points.
Then, if I kill a strong man like Jaime Lannister, or a wight, a White Walker, or even the Night King, how much experience would I get?
Of course, I could also choose to massacre civilians to farm experience. But if I did that without backing or someone to cover for me, there probably wouldn't be a place for me in all of Westeros.
With the death of their leader, the remaining bandits collapsed completely. They dropped their weapons and fled, screaming. They were met by the cold steel of the Stark guards and Theon's deadly arrows.
The battle was over.
Silence returned to the woods, save for the crackling of the bonfire and the groans of wounded soldiers.
Lynn leaned against the scarred pine tree and slowly slid to the ground. The longsword fell into the snow with a clang.
He was shaking all over. Not from fear, but from exhaustion. His shoulder wound was still bleeding, and his ribs throbbed with piercing pain from the impact. Every breath pulled at his injuries, making him nearly faint.
His vision began to blur. A pair of boots stained with mud and snow stopped in front of him.
Lynn lifted his head with effort.
It was Robb Stark. The Young Wolf's face still held the lingering killing intent, but his blue eyes were filled with complex emotions: shock, confusion, and a trace of... respect.
"You..."
Robb opened his mouth but didn't know what to say. He looked at the corpses around Lynn, then at Lynn's gruesome wounds. Any words seemed pale and powerless in this moment.
"Hullen!" Robb turned and shouted at a guard. "Get over here! Bandage him!"
Theon Greyjoy walked over as well. He put away his longbow and crouched down. Looking at the bone-deep wound on Lynn's shoulder, the mockery from before was gone.
With his wounds and blood, Lynn had won the recognition of Robb and Theon.
In his vision, the blue panel visible only to him floated quietly.
[Experience: 7]