- 2 ShcContenu
- audimat
- N/ASOUTIEN
A man with black hair and a large build, wielding a greatsword, stood surrounded by five Thenns armed with knives and swords.
"You've got guts to follow us all the way up here," one of the five sneered, his face twisted with scorn.
"Alright lads, whoever brings me his head will get first pick of those pretty women we captured," the leader of the group grinned, eyes glinting with malice.
"Don't forget those words, Ural. I'll go fir—" a greedy man lunged at the black-haired man with his sword. The black-haired man swung his greatsword, cleaving through the Thenn's blade and head in one swift motion.
He dashed forward, his greatsword slicing through the air. In a series of single, lethal swings, he felled three more of the lackeys.
The leader of the bandits fell to his knees, looking up in terror. "Who the fuck are you?" he stammered.
"My name is Klaus. Remember that in your next life," the man replied, beheading the leader. He looted the bodies, collecting three crude swords, five stone knives, and their leather cloaks.
"Well, it's my lucky day," he muttered to himself, inspecting the spoils.
This was the largest haul he'd taken from the Freefolk of the True North since he'd gotten his new body. He could trade it for food that would last a week. His former self, Michael, had died at thirty-five on Earth, only to find himself in a new, twenty-four-year-old body in a world filled with schemes and conspiracies—the world of "Game of Thrones." Michael, a renowned blacksmith on Earth, had perished in a car accident. Now, inhabiting the body of a warg, a Freefolk from the True North, his family massacred by the Thenns, he had to survive in this brutal new reality.
Klaus whistled, and a bald eagle glided from the trees, landing on his right shoulder.
"We need to hunt more, Sorus. These spoils will only last us a week," he said, patting the eagle's back.
He planned to trade with Mance Rayder, the King Beyond the Wall, for safe passage to the South. He knew the Night King and his army of White Walkers and wights were on the move, seeking to conquer the South.
One Month Later, Mance Rayder's Tent
"I'll go further south, Mance. I will go beyond the wall," Klaus said, his tone serious.
"You're a coward. I should slice your throat here, you ungrateful bastard," Tormund growled, stepping toward him.
Klaus faced Tormund without fear. He could fight Tormund evenly with a crude sword, but now he had an iron greatsword.
"Stop it, Tormund. He's made his decision. Besides, he helped us convince the Giant tribe to join our cause and kept the Thenns at bay. The army of the dead is marching south, and even my soul was shaken the first time we battled them," Mance Rayder said grimly, recalling the slaughter from a year ago. Their struggles were relentless, and their enemies were undying.
Klaus had lived in the True North for two years. When he first occupied the body, the Thenns had just attacked his tribe. Disoriented and starving, he discovered his warging ability when he entered a nearby direwolf, having it hunt for him. He later named the female direwolf Misha. Since then, both had survived, hunted, and killed together.
Mance offered, "We will give you the tools to climb the wall and the gold dragons we've collected from the crows. In exchange, you will give us your direwolf and its cubs."
Misha had given birth to three cubs. Klaus had left them in his tent, waiting a year for them to grow. The cubs were now as big as normal dogs.
"No, I would die before you take them from me, and I'm not climbing the wall," Klaus shook his head, rejecting the proposal. "I built a boat. It can carry twenty men. I'll give it to you after my travel. I have three iron swords from the crows and a hundred crude swords and axes from this year's spoils. You can have it all after I leave, including my tent and everything I leave behind. In exchange, I want all the gold coins you've hoarded and five sets of southern clothing."
Mance considered the proposal and nodded. He knew the gold coins were useless in the True North, while swords could arm his men.
"Deal. When do you leave?" Mance asked.
"Now," Klaus replied. Mance was momentarily surprised but asked his men to gather the gold and clothes. "It will take an hour for your things to arrive. In the meantime, let's talk."
"All my things are hidden in this cave," Klaus said, spreading a map and pointing to a location. "Just behind my tent."
One Hour Later
Klaus, Tormund, and Mance had a good conversation. Mance was honest, and Tormund was simple and kind, just as portrayed in the show. But Klaus never let his guard down; in the True North, a moment of weakness could mean death.
A chest full of gold and five sets of common clothes were presented to him. "There are about a hundred gold dragons in there, and approximately twenty more in silver and copper. You'll live a life of debauchery in the south with those. Good luck, my friend, and stay safe," Mance said, laughing as he gave Klaus a strong hug. Tormund gave him a hearty punch.
"Thank you, Mance and Tormund. I hope you succeed in your journey," Klaus said solemnly.
He knew Mance Rayder, the King Beyond the Wall, would die at the hands of Stannis Baratheon. He pitied the man but wouldn't risk his life for him; their relationship was purely transactional.
Outside Craster's Keep
Craster and his wives went about their daily tasks while a white direwolf lurked in the trees. Klaus decided not to warg into Misha. Despite her limited intelligence, Misha was loyal and understood his commands.
He walked out of the woods. One of Craster's wives saw him and ran to report to her husband. A few minutes later, Craster emerged, smirking and unsheathing his sword. "What's a wildling doing in my backyard? Do you want to die?"
"Why do idiots like you always talk shit before they die?" Klaus replied, spitting on the ground. Craster, annoyed, charged at him. Klaus unsheathed his greatsword, slicing through Craster's knee. His right leg dangled, and Klaus said, "See, you folks always fall with just a swing of a sword." He cut Craster's other knee, watching him fall to the ground in fear. Craster's wives either screamed or watched intently as Klaus crippled their husband.
His iron greatsword, looted from a crow, was specially upgraded to cut through the crude weapons of the Freefolk. He sharpened it daily. As he fought for survival, he couldn't avoid scrapes and dents on the blade, especially against the strong Freefolk.
"I know you'll ask why I'm killing you. You'll say we don't know each other. But I have a very good reason: you gave your infants to the White Walkers, and that's enough reason for me to kill you." He slowly sliced Craster's throat, watching him choke on his own blood. Two years of surviving in the cold north had made him capable of things he could never have imagined in his past life.
He had waited a year to kill Craster, fearing the Night's Watch would find him. The Night's Watch had a deal with Craster, and now that Klaus was leaving the north, he could act freely. Fuck the Night's Watch, the sworn brotherhood of rapists, thieves, and criminals.
After the deed was done, he explained to Craster's former wives his plan to send them to Mance Rayder's camp. He had already made the necessary arrangements.
