Chapter 3. Asking for Help

Burp!

Robb had just swallowed the last piece of cheese from his plate when he couldn't help but let out a satisfied belch.

Fortunately, at this moment, only he and the maid standing beside him were left at the dining table. Otherwise, he would have received another scolding from Catelyn.

The second serving of dinner he had barely managed to stuff into his stomach hadn't given him any more Blood Pact Points.

This dashed his plan of gaining points through sheer eating.

Perhaps it was for the best!

If he could really accumulate points this way, Robb would definitely end up fatter than King Robert Baratheon in no time.

After dinner, it was supposed to be Robb's routine swordsmanship training time, but today he went straight back to his room.

This was partly because his father, Eddard, had advised him to rest for a couple of days, and partly because he himself wanted to take a good break.

Back in his room, the first thing Robb did was look at Bloodwind, who was soundly asleep.

As he focused his thoughts, the blood-red characters appeared once again.

Perhaps because he had earned a Blood Pact Point during dinner, there was now a plus sign next to each of Bloodwind's stats.

Robb pondered for a moment, then willed the Blood Pact Point in his vision to disappear.

A strand of red mist, as thick as a chopstick, rose from his body and then flowed into the sleeping Bloodwind. His physique stat subsequently increased to 2!

So, that red mist was the Blood Pact Point?

Robb gently stroked the stubble on his chin, lost in thought.

Assuming he could earn 1 Blood Pact Point a day, at this rate, Bloodwind's stats would be several times higher than those of its siblings within a month.

As for why he had chosen to increase its physique first, this decision had been carefully thought out.

This world felt real to him now, not as simple as watching a show from a god's perspective.

There was no one in Winterfell who knew how to care for a direwolf. If the young Bloodwind were to die for any reason, it would be his greatest loss.

By prioritizing the enhancement of its physique, he could ensure Bloodwind's survival through its infancy and into adulthood as safely as possible.

It wouldn't be too late to boost its agility and strength later.

After assigning the attribute point to Bloodwind, Robb suddenly felt a wave of exhaustion wash over him.

He found two thick pieces of clothing in his wardrobe and spread them on the floor, then gently placed Bloodwind on them.

He didn't want to sleep in the same bed as Bloodwind because, back on Earth, he had a habit of tossing and turning in his sleep.

Now, he had to eliminate any possibility that could harm Bloodwind.

Ah! So comfortable!

The solid wooden bed, layered with thick fur bedding, was indeed soft. As soon as Robb lay down, he felt like he was sinking into a pile of cotton and couldn't help but sigh in satisfaction.

His advantages!

First, he knew the general course of future events and some important individuals.

Second, there was Bloodwind, his golden finger.

Third, he was the eldest son of a noble Northern bloodline.

But, could he really deal with the cunning Tywin Lannister, or Daenerys Targaryen with her three dragons?

And then, there were the Wildlings beyond the Wall...

Finally, there were the White Walkers...

Lying in bed, Robb thought about his own advantages and the enemies he would face in the future.

Maybe he was too exhausted, for within minutes, he sank into a deep sleep.

***

The next morning, Robb was awakened by his body's internal clock.

As soon as he got dressed and got out of bed, Bloodwind had already grabbed his pant leg, expressing its hunger.

Alright then! This little guy was nothing more than an emotionless eating machine.

Robb bent down to pat Bloodwind's furry head before heading out to prepare breakfast for it.

After a busy morning serving the little master Bloodwind, Robb finally made his way to the washstand to freshen up.

He plunged his head into the washbasin prepared by the servant, shook it from side to side, and then suddenly lifted it.

In the mirror above the washstand, he saw a young man with blue eyes, reddish-brown hair, and a strong build staring back at him.

Although Robb's appearance was quite mature, he looked heroic and handsome, with a unique charm of his own.

I am Robb Stark!

He looked at the familiar yet unfamiliar face in the mirror for a few minutes, silently repeated this to himself, then dried his face with a towel and turned to put on his noble attire.

The Stark family breakfast was as rich as ever. Feeling his stomach was empty, Robb ate heartily without any concern for appearances.

"Robb, you had two servings for dinner last night. How can you still be this hungry this morning?" Eddard asked, popping a grape into his mouth with a puzzled look on his face.

"I don't know. Maybe I'm still growing, Father…?" Robb quickly swallowed his food and responded to his father's question.

"Father, maybe his stomach is full of fat pigs that only know how to poop."

Hearing Robb's reply reminded Arya of what he said last night, and she couldn't resist teasing him back.

"Arya, mind your words! You've finished eating. Go find Septa Mordane and start your lessons for today. Sansa, go with your sister."

Hearing Arya's words, Catelyn frowned and spoke up.

"Yes, Mother!"

The sisters Sansa and Arya responded in unison. Sansa, feeling unjustly dragged into the situation, glared at Arya with annoyance, curtseyed to their parents, and left first.

Arya stuck out her tongue at Robb and made a face before turning around and running out.

"Robb, if you feel unwell in any way, remember to tell Maester Luwin."

Catelyn was still worried about Robb's health.

"Yes, Mother!"

After breakfast, Robb hadn't earned any Blood Pact Points, but he wasn't worried. After all, there was still dinner to look forward to.

Besides, he felt that acquiring Blood Pact Points wasn't as simple as just eating.

After assigning Bloodwind its attribute yesterday, the sudden fatigue he felt had been rather unusual.

The rest of the day was supposed to be Robb's routine archery training. However, like with swordsmanship, his father Eddard had given him time off, so he decided to go back to his room and spend time bonding with Bloodwind.

***

About an hour later, a male servant came to inform Robb that it was time to go to the council hall.

As the rightful heir of Winterfell, accompanying Eddard in managing the affairs of the territory was his duty and responsibility.

Of course, the decision-making power rested with Eddard. Most of the time, Robb was there just to watch and learn.

When Robb arrived at the council hall, his father Eddard and Maester Luwin were already seated on the dais.

Ser Jory, along with two fully armed guards, stood at the entrance of the hall, while the townsfolk lined up behind them, waiting.

Once Robb took his seat to Eddard's left, the day's council session officially began.

During these times of peace, it was mostly trivial matters. It was either about old houses collapsing and people asking for the lord's help, or disputes between neighbors over cattle and sheep grazing on each other's land.

Listening to all this made Robb's head feel heavy and drowsy.

After all, the laws in Westeros were quite harsh, and even theft was a serious crime.

In some places, minor offenses could result in losing a hand or a foot, while in others, it could mean execution or being sent to the Night's Watch.

The population of Winterfell's territory was simple and not as complicated as King's Landing. As a result, there was very little crime.

"Let me in! I have urgent business with the Lord!"

A shout from outside the council hall door jolted the drowsy Robb awake.

Eddard gave Jory a look, and he turned and went outside. Shortly after, a young man dressed in simple clothing and stained with blood followed him in.

"Sir, I am--"

"Address him as 'Lord!'"

The young man, who appeared to be around Robb's age, had just started speaking when Jory interrupted him, correcting his address.

"My Lord, I'm a villager from Eastwood Village. Last night, during dinner, a group of soldiers broke into our village, looting, burning, and killing. I slipped out under Chief Wood's orders to seek help."

"How many were there? What weapons were they using? Were they wearing armor? Did you see any house sigils on them?"

Hearing this, Eddard frowned and asked.

The young man was stunned by the questions. He thought for a moment and then hesitated before saying, "About fourteen or fifteen people. Most of them were in leather armor. They mainly used longswords and shields, with two or three carrying bows."

"As for their sigil… Oh, right! One of them had a shield with a mark like this."

After speaking, the young man made an 'X' shape with his hands.

"I'm afraid he's talking about the flayed man sigil of House Bolton, Lord Eddard," Maester Luwin said, turning to Eddard.

"House Bolton? Maester Luwin, send a raven to House Bolton and ask them what's going on."

"Yes, I'll go to the rookery right away."

Eddard lowered his head in thought for a moment before giving Maester Luwin the order.

Then he turned to Robb and asked, "Robb, how are you feeling today?"

"No problems at all, Father."

"Good. Go prepare to set off for Eastwood Village. I'll have Jory take twenty men to meet you at the East Gate."

"Yes!"

Robb nodded in agreement and immediately stood up and returned to the keep.

Watching his eldest son's retreating figure, Eddard gave Jory a few more instructions before resuming other matters.

Given the urgency of the situation, Robb hurried back to his room, called for a servant, and instructed him on how to feed Bloodwind.

He then changed out of his noble attire into leather armor. Just as Robb was finishing changing, Jon and Theon, who must have heard the news, arrived together, expressing their desire to join him.

Jon was skilled in swordsmanship, and Theon was an excellent marksman. With the two of them along, the journey would be safer.

Robb quickly made up his mind and agreed.

Adding two more people wouldn't be an issue. He believed his father, Eddard, would surely approve. If not, he could always replace two of Jory's men.

The three of them crossed the bridge on the north side of the keep and went straight to the armory.

There, they found everything they needed; standard chainmail, finely crafted longswords, longbows, short swords, and daggers.

The three of them helped each other don the common chainmail of the North, armed themselves, and then mounted the Winterfell warhorses the servants had brought from the stables. With great momentum, they rode toward the East Gate.

 ...

Footnotes:

Eastwood Village

: a location near Winterfell in the North of Westeros. It is one of the small villages that support Winterfell and the Stark family, providing resources and manpower.

East Gate

: in Winterfell, it serves as one of the entrances to the castle. Winterfell is surrounded by walls and has multiple gates, each serving different purposes and connecting to various areas of the surrounding lands.