4 Year Timeskip, 2

~~Previously, in the life of a Samurai, the time skip started. Miyamoura fought and showed his strength, and also brought some changes to North.~~

3rd Person P.O.V.—

Miyamoto sat on top of the highest tower in Winterfell, as he looked at the view in front of him. "I could never get tired of this view." He said with a relaxed smile, marveling at the transformation that had taken place over the past year. The introduction of innovative farming techniques had not only increased crop yield but had also brought about a newfound prosperity to the North. As he looked at the bustling Wintertown, he couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment.

The implementation of plows, seed drills, and crop rotation had worked wonders, and the once skeptical northern lords now saw the tangible benefits. Fields that were once near barren now bore a rich tapestry of crops, a testament to the success of Miyamoto's proposals. Winterfell's granaries were filled to the brim, ensuring the North's resilience against the unpredictable winters.

Miyamoto, however, wasn't one to rest on his accomplishments. He had more ideas brewing in his mind, and his next venture involved the swampy regions of the Neck, governed by House Reed. Lord Reed, a wise and pragmatic leader, welcomed Miyamoto's proposition to plant rice and grapes in the fertile yet challenging terrain.

"The swampy areas can be turned into a source of abundance," Miyamoto explained to Lord Stark. "Rice cultivation requires waterlogged conditions, and grapes can thrive in the moist environment. We can not only provide sustenance for our people but also explore the possibility of brewing our own liquor, reducing our dependence on southern imports."

Lord Stark, intrigued by the prospect, agreed to the experiment. He wrote a letter to Lord Reed about the idea and asked him to start the crop cultivation as soon as he can, he also mentioned that House Stark is going to sponsor the first cultivation. The swampy fields gradually transformed into flourishing paddies and vineyards, marking another success in Miyamoto's quest to improve the North's self-sufficiency.

As the rice paddies and grapevines flourished, Lord Reed and his people witnessed a new source of income. The production of a unique Northern liquor began, soon it was going to be traded with the South as it didn't suit the Northern people. The economic impact was significant, and the surplus from the sales allowed House Reed to invest in infrastructure and further improve the quality of life for their people.

Meanwhile, the financial impact of Miyamoto's agricultural reforms was evident. The North, once reliant on purchasing ten tons of food from the South, now only required nine tons. The savings were substantial, and the North's coffers swelled with the surplus resources.

[A/N: I know that's not the accurate number, the amount should be way more but I said 10 and 9 to give you all an idea about the percentage and the improvements.]

###Scene Break###

Lord Edwyle Stark, his grizzled features highlighted by the candlelight, called for Miyamoto to join him in his solar. The samurai, always attuned to his surroundings, made his way to Lord Stark's chambers, where the Lord of Winterfell awaited.

"Master Miyamoto," Lord Stark greeted, gesturing for him to take a seat across the sturdy wooden table. "I wanted to personally express my gratitude for the remarkable changes you've brought to the North. The fields, once barren, are now teeming with life. Winterfell owes you a debt of gratitude."

Miyamoto bowed respectfully. "I am honored to serve House Stark and contribute to the prosperity of the North, my lord. The land has great potential, and it's a pleasure to witness its transformation."

Lord Stark poured a cup of northern ale and offered it to Miyamoto. "A toast to a samurai whose wisdom has breathed new life into our lands."

Miyamoto accepted the cup with a nod, reciprocating the gesture. "To a future of abundance and strength for the North."

After the toast, Lord Stark's expression turned thoughtful. "There's another matter I wish to discuss. Rickerd has been under your tutelage for some time now. How does he fare in his training?"

Miyamoto considered the question, taking a moment before responding. "Young Lord Rickerd has shown remarkable dedication and improvement in his swordsmanship. His discipline and commitment to the training regimen are commendable. He has the potential to become a formidable warrior."

Lord Stark nodded, a mixture of pride and concern in his eyes. "I am pleased to hear of his progress. Training under a samurai is no small feat. I trust he's also imbibing the values you bring, not just the physical skills."

Miyamoto leaned forward, his gaze steady. "Indeed, my lord. I emphasize the importance of not only mastering the blade but also embodying honor, discipline, and resilience. These are qualities that will serve him well in the battles to come."

Lord Stark's expression softened. "Your guidance is invaluable, Miyamoto. The North is in your debt."

The samurai inclined his head. "I am merely fulfilling my duty, Lord Stark. If I may ask, how do you envision the future for House Stark and the North?"

Lord Stark sighed, looking out of the window at the moonlit Winterfell. "A future where our people thrive independently, where the North stands strong and self-sufficient. Your contributions are steering us toward that vision."

"As long as I am of service, my lord," Miyamoto replied with humility.

"Continue to train Rickerd, instill in him the strength and wisdom needed for the challenges ahead. And know that House Stark considers you not just an ally but a true friend."

Miyamoto bowed once more. "I am honored, M'lord. I shall continue to do my utmost for the North and House Stark."

"By the way, M'Lord," Miyamoto began, a glint of determination in his eyes, "I have a few more ideas that can further bolster the prosperity of the North." Lord Edwyle, intrigued, leaned forward in his chair. "Any idea that can improve the North is always welcome. Please do tell."

Miyamoto paused, choosing his words with care. "My idea, or you may call it a concern, revolves around the security of the North and its people. The vastness of our land is nearly equal to the entire South combined." Lord Stark, his brow furrowed, asked, "What's your point?"

"The point, M'lord, is that the North requires a dedicated security force—a military group tasked with patrolling our lands and protecting them. Whether it's from bandits, wildlings, or pirates, we need a proactive defense." Miyamoto stated, his tone carrying a sense of urgency.

Lord Stark sighed, considering the implications. "It has its merits, but sustaining such a force would require thorough planning. At our current state, I fear it might strain our resources."

Miyamoto nodded thoughtfully. "I understand the concerns, M'lord. However, think of it as an investment. In time, this force could evolve into our standing army, eliminating the need to raise common villagers as levies, only to face certain death."

Lord Stark pondered the proposal for a moment. "A standing army for the North," he mused. "That could bring stability, but the execution would be crucial."

Encouraged by the response, Miyamoto pressed on. "I'm not suggesting an immediate force of 20 or 30 thousand. We can start small and expand gradually. A well-organized militia can serve as the cornerstone of our defense strategy."

Lord Stark, after a thoughtful pause, nodded. "Very well, Miyamoto. Present a detailed plan, and if it sounds plausible, I will correspond with the Northern lords and convene a meeting to discuss this matter further."

"That's all I ask, M'Lord," Miyamoto replied with a satisfied smile. "You will soon have a comprehensive plan for the militia on your desk."

Miyamoto diligently drafted the plan for the Northern militia, detailing the strategy, structure, and initial steps to be taken. The proposal highlighted the creation of an army training camp, an institution where skilled warriors would be forged to safeguard the North. He specified a modest beginning with a group of 100 individuals, selected for their physical prowess and commitment to defending their homeland.

Presenting the plan to Lord Stark in his solar, Miyamoto explained, "M'Lord, the key

is to start small and refine our methods before expanding. I propose assembling a group of 100 men and women, each chosen for their combat potential. They will undergo rigorous training at the army camp, evolving into a skilled force capable of addressing threats across the North."

Lord Stark carefully reviewed the plan, scrutinizing each detail. "A hundred individuals to form the foundation of our militia. It's a cautious approach, and I appreciate that," he remarked.

Miyamoto continued, "Within this group, we'll establish teams of 10, led by a captain and a vice-captain, each selected for their leadership qualities. They will also have some medical knowledge to ensure the well-being of our fighters."

Lord Stark nodded in approval. "A strategic and comprehensive approach, Master Miyamoto. The North needs defenders who are not only skilled with a blade but possess the ability to adapt and strategize."

The samurai bowed, acknowledging Lord Stark's insight. "The training will focus not only on combat but also on discipline, cooperation, and understanding the diverse threats the North may face. It's about forging not just soldiers, but guardians."

Lord Stark, satisfied with the plan, took a quill and added his endorsement. "This plan has merit. I will send it to the other Northern lords and seek their opinions. If they share our vision, we shall proceed."

As the plan was dispatched to the other lords, a wave of anticipation swept through Winterfell. The potential for a dedicated Northern militia, trained and ready to defend the realm, resonated with the lords who received the proposal. Letters were exchanged, and a meeting was scheduled to discuss the formation of the militia.

[A/N: I will try to finish the time skip by tomorrow. Sorry I couldn't write these days, wresling makes me so tired and then there's homeworks. It's a lot to handle.

Ps: Got some ideas? Comment below and also throw some power stones at me, I like it… pause… I'm NOT a Masochist.

Pss or Pps?: Almost 1700 words]