Chapter 1: The Night's Watchman
Wooo-wooo-wooooooooo-—
The horn blasted, and then it blasted again.
One blast meant brothers returning home; two meant wildlings attacking. But today, why did it continue?
It had been thousands of years since a brother of the Night's Watch blew the horn three times—so long that some of the muddled men in black had almost forgotten its meaning. But not Egger. When the third low, piercing wail—higher and longer than the first two—cut through the frozen air atop the Wall and vibrated against his eardrums, he happened to be the one who had drawn the lot for sentry duty. Clutching the ice wall with trembling hands, he peered down over the northern edge and saw a scene of horror he had never witnessed in his life, one that made his very soul wither.
Egger jolted awake, his back drenched in sweat once again.
The nightmare of the White Walkers attacking had haunted him for a long time, starting from when he first joined the Night's Watch as a recruit on sentry duty, up until today as a sworn Ranger. Being so terrified of a legend from thousands of years ago was undoubtedly a laughable matter, but unlike those around him, he knew: many of the accounts regarding the White Walkers were true.
Egger was a transmigrator—a "Transmigrator Night's Watchman."
A visitor from another world, arriving in this colorful, magical realm... only to skip the typical path of building a harem or fighting for hegemony. Instead, he had ended up in this godforsaken, desolate place at the Edge of the World. He had sworn to take no wife, hold no lands, and father no children; to be the watcher on the walls and the shield that guards the realms of men... defending the people of Westeros against threats from the Far North. What a noble sentiment, what a cross-world spirit of self-sacrifice!
But the truth was, he had not donned the black of his own free will.
It all began a year ago. Egger wasn't even originally named Egger. Back in his original world, he was an ordinary university graduate working in the quality inspection department of a large state-owned enterprise, doing a job that was "somewhat technical and slightly related to his major." Relying on a salary that wasn't huge but was stable enough to support himself, he lived a passionless life, day after day...
Until one day, he suddenly woke up shivering to find himself lying in a wilderness wearing only pajamas. Having completely lost his way, he wandered aimlessly for half a day before finding an inhabited village, only to be stunned: the villagers all had Western features, and he couldn't understand a word they said.
With communication impossible and driven by hunger and cold, he stole some potatoes and clothing to survive. Passing a family's chicken coop, he debated whether to steal two eggs—and was unfortunately caught on the spot and brought before a local official.
Stealing small items wasn't a heinous crime; in modern law, it would be considered a clear case of emergency necessity. Unfortunately, due to the language barrier, the peasant-like village official grew impatient and placed two items in front of Egger: a cleaver and a set of black robes. Through body language, he gave the unlucky transmigrator two choices: have a hand chopped off, or "take the black."
Not being mentally prepared to become a disabled person on his first day of transmigration, he was sent to Castle Black as a criminal to become a "glorious" Night's Watchman. As for "Egger," the name was just a placeholder given to him by the villager who caught him, and he had simply become stuck with it.
He still remembered the moment the Wall—looming like the edge of the world—first appeared in his vision; he was nearly choked with shock. Because it lacked a slope, this 700-foot artificial structure looked more magnificent and towering than any mountain Egger had ever visited before his transmigration. The visual impact of this landmark was so strong that he instantly knew what he had stumbled into: he had transmigrated into the world of A Song of Ice and Fire, or rather, Game of Thrones. As for which specific version it was, being imprisoned at the Wall meant he didn't yet have enough information to judge.
"Awake?" Gared, his roommate, was already organizing his pack by the window. He glanced at Egger upon hearing the movement. "Then get up. Start your preparations early so we don't realize we're missing something right as we're leaving."
The speaker was a veteran of the Night's Watch. Orphaned as a child, he had joined the Watch at a young age; though not yet fifty, he had served for forty years. He was one of the few in the night's watch who could truly claim "the Night's Watch is my home." Although his habit of acting like a veteran was quite annoying, he had provided a lot of care during the unlucky transmigrator's integration into this world—Egger couldn't simply ignore his words.
Nodding helplessly, the young man crawled out of his bunk, pulled back the covers to let the moisture escape, and slowly began to dress.
As a fine youth of the new era and a college-educated man, Egger was naturally someone with excellent adaptability and learning skills. A year was more than enough time to familiarize himself with and integrate into this world. Aside from his facial features making him look slightly different, he could already communicate fluently with the other brothers. Speaking of which, there was one thing that frustrated him immensely: in this hellish world, the "Common Tongue" of Westeros was not the British-accented English he was used to hearing in the TV show, but a language with grammar and an alphabet only slightly similar to English, and with very low correlation.
If not for that, with his decent level of English, how could he have ended up in this state?
Once dressed, he ate breakfast with Gared. With everything packed, they met up with the two other Rangers assigned to this patrol. The four of them went to the stables, mounted their horses, and arrived at the entrance of the tunnel through the Wall, ready to depart.
...
The iron gate rose slowly with a clack-clack-clack under the pull of winches and ropes, revealing the deep, dark tunnel behind it. Ser Waymar Royce, chest out and head high, kicked his horse without a word and led the way in.
The passage was perpetually pitch-black and freezing, filled only with the whistling sound of airflow. Under the light of torches, they passed through three successive iron gates. As the final barrier slowly rose, the view before them opened up—they had departed from the Night's Watch headquarters, the hub of supplies and manpower and their "starting village," Castle Black. They crossed the ice wall into the lands beyond to conduct a routine patrol, investigating and tracking wildling tribes that had recently been appearing frequently north of the Wall.
Before them lay the Haunted Forest. The Night's Watch regularly sent builders out to clear the trees to ensure the forest did not creep within half a mile of the Wall, preventing wildlings from using the cover of trees to launch a sneak attack. As the strength of the Night's Watch waned over the years, this tradition was barely maintained at the three remaining inhabited castles, and the scale of the cleared buffer zone had long been shrinking.
Egger looked back at the peerless height of the Wall and noticed the ice was "weeping"—this was good news, as it meant the temperature was near freezing. If the weather didn't change, the patrol wouldn't have to worry about freezing to death during the night.
The horses moved forward at a trot as the four men crossed the clearing and approached the forest. Largely untouched by axes and extending all the way to the Land of Always Winter, the Haunted Forest was the second-largest forest in Westeros. Egger had participated in several patrols already, but every time he stepped into these woods, his scalp still tingled and a chill ran down his spine.
The year was 297 AC. Jon Arryn had not yet been assassinated; Eddard Stark was in Winterfell, muttering "Winter is Coming" while enjoying the warmth of his wife and children; Robert Baratheon was still on the Iron Throne, drinking away the treasury and sowing wild oats everywhere... Daenerys Targaryen was still a pitiable girl living under someone else's roof across the Narrow Sea; and the White Walkers had only just emerged from the Land of Always Winter, beginning to attack small groups of wildlings to bolster their army of the dead.
The plots familiar to fans of the original show or books had not yet begun; the duel of ice and fire and the power struggles at the kingdom's political center were still in the stage of undercurrents. Logically, transmigrating to Westeros at a time when summer had not yet ended and the world was at peace wasn't too bad—the problem was, Egger had somehow become a damned Ranger of the Night's Watch. This meant he couldn't hide far away from the natural enemies of humanity north of the Wall to enjoy his new life; he had to venture out beyond the Wall every few days and deliver himself right under the noses of the White Walkers!
...
Every man in the Night's Watch was a fighter, but only the Rangers made venturing north of the Wall their daily routine. What made Egger want to spit blood was that becoming a Ranger had not been his choice either. During those months at Castle Black as a recruit undergoing training and awaiting assignment, he had tried hard to showcase his flexible mind and vast knowledge as a science student, hoping to catch the attention of Lord Commander Mormont or Maester Aemon to become a personal aide... or at the very least, a steward or builder within the castle. But all his plans fell through. After all his maneuvering, he was assigned under Benjen Stark, becoming the one thing he least wanted to be: the elite of the elite—a Ranger.
Of course, no officer was intentionally trying to screw him over; in fact, many people would have loved to trade places with Egger. While Rangers had to go north occasionally, the summer temperatures hovering near freezing weren't considered cold, and the missions were mostly for scouting. Given the declining numbers and increasing tension in the Night's Watch, commanders usually ordered Rangers to prioritize their lives and avoid open battle with the enemy. For years, the number of Rangers killed in combat or on patrol was far lower than the number of builders or stewards who froze to death or died in accidents.
But Winter was coming. The White Walkers had awakened, and the King-Beyond-the-Wall had gathered all the wildlings for a southern invasion. Starting a few months ago, casualties had begun to trickle in from the patrols... Egger knew that the Rangers wouldn't be as comfortable as they had been in previous years.
After his initial hesitation and sense of injustice, Egger quickly understood the reason for it all: he was no longer the only child or top student from his original world. He had neither the noble surname of First Ranger Benjen Stark nor the aura of Jon Snow, the bastard son of the Lord of Winterfell. No matter how much he knew about astronomy, geography, or physics and chemistry, in the eyes of the Night's Watch officers, he was just a "foreigner" who had committed theft. In a army of nearly a thousand men, who had the time to specifically notice or take care of him? As a healthy, strong young man standing six feet tall with decent training results, he was destined to be picked by the Rangers no matter how he was sorted.
No one cared if he wanted to be a Ranger. He was even certain that if he disappeared during a northern patrol, the Night's Watch would never go to the same lengths to find him as they would for Ser Waymar Royce or Benjen Stark... Here, he was just a common soldier of the Night's Watch. One could imagine that in the coming war between men and ghosts, having barely learned to use a sword and ride a horse, he would likely be nothing more than cannon fodder.
If he didn't want to end his transmigrator career in such a muddled way, he had to find a way to change his fate.
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