Chapter 6

Ned was looking over his sons and his ward as they trained in the yard. Four years had passed since he returned from the war with the Ironborn. He had managed to somewhat neutralize Catelyn's hatred. There wasn't much else happening in the realm after the war.

Meanwhile, Catelyn had given birth to a beautiful boy who was two name days old. Ned had named him Rickon. Catelyn doted on her youngest child and called him her youngest prince.

Sansa was a sweet child of nine, always pestering the old Nan to tell her stories when she wasn't learning about the houses from Luwin or knitting and embroidery from the seamstresses.

Arya was a fiery little girl, always chasing after her brothers or picking fights with boys of her age. Out of all Ned's children, she was the wildest. For him, Arya was Lyanna born again because the Gods couldn't handle her rebelliousness.

Bran was a quiet one. He would spend his days either watching his brothers put the men into shape or he would climb walls. Ned was quite tired of the boy's constant need to climb the walls. Despite Catelyn reprimanding the boy countless times, he never truly listened and kept climbing whatever walls and towers came into his sight.

Robb and Jon were the pride of the family. Both wise, beyond their years, their comaraderie reminded Ned of his times in the Vale with Robert. They were so alike and yet so different. Robb and Jon were so skilled in combat that not one man at Winterfell could even put a scratch on them.

Their ability to command, govern, and fight wasn't anything like Ned had ever seen. Him and Robert were never so good. Lastly, both Robb and Jon were quite the gentlemen, as in, they weren't womanisers like the younger Robert Baratheon. That role was fulfilled by Theon.

"Yield."

"Fuck!!"

"Not again!"

Robb smiled as he breathed deeply and looked at his downed brother, and friend.

"That's fifteen hundred and thirty two wins for me, Jon. And, none for you."

"You don't have to rub it in! Why do you always have to remind me how many times you've won?!"

"Rub? The salt is so deep that you're a brined piece of steak! And, I'm not keeping record of my wins for you, it's for your children in the future."

"My children?!"

"Aye! Afterall, someone has to tell them all the stories about how their father tasted dirt more than he tasted food! I'll be the fun uncle Robb!"

"Hey!"

Robb looked at Theon who was lying in the dirt, spread eagle from fatigue. "Greyjoy, you lasted a few moments longer than last time. I guess all the training with the whores does work for you, huh?"

Theon merely groaned as his lungs tried to suck in all the air in the world. He couldn't even speak. Robb and Jon were monsters in combat. Sometimes, Theon pitied their future wives.

Robb shook his head and helped Jon up. The latter decided to sit on the side and rest for a while as his arms were burning from fatigue. Robb quietly slipped away and went to his target practice area. He had progressed far more than humanly possible. It was all thanks to the natural energy.

Such was his strength and aim that he could throw a kunai at a target more that a hundred yards away and still pierce through plate armour. Of course, no one other than him knew of his abilities. Jon knew that he was stronger and faster than what should be possible. He simply didn't know the extent of Robb's power. In terms of raw strength, Robb could uproot a fully grown tree if he gave his maximum.

He knew that he wasn't even close to the peak. He knew that he would only grow stronger till his mid thirties before time and age began to deteriorate his body. So, he didn't dare to grow complacent and take it easy on himself so early in his life.

Holding two heavy sledge hammers in his arms, he did his routine exercises. By the time he had begun the routine, Jon had also arrived and he starting doing his exercises as well. Robb had made sure that his brother would become a formidable fighter.

'Two is better than one.'

Robb knew that Jon could never reach his level as he lacked the former's keen sense and affinity for the natural energy. But Robb could still help him into becoming one of the most feared fighters and commanders in battle.

It had been three years since they began training a standing army of elite men at arms. They were put through rigorous training that involved individual skill as well as group tactics and attack formations. They were trained to always attack in groups of four, similar to the four member teams in Robb's previous world.

It was tough to convince Ned, but once again, Robb worked his charm and got the permission to train an army of two thousand for a start. The plan was to split the army equally between Jon and Robb for them to command from two different fronts, if push came to shove.

They trained the men together so that all were given equal treatment and training. Shields were designed for the army to execute specialized attack and defense formations along with pikes that were greatly effective against a cavalry charge, essentially the box formation.

To protect his men from arrows, Robb taught them how to execute the tortoise formation. It was the most effective formation against a hail of arrows and rendered the archers useless in battle.

They even practiced various battle tactics. All in all, the elite Stark army was growing formidable as the days went by. They were untested in battle, but Robb was confident.

While they were doing their routine, Theon came running to them and said, "Robb! Jon! Bandits!"

They immediately stopped what they were doing and ran to get their weapons. Armed with standard steel swords and a dozen kunai in case of Robb, they rode out of Winterfell along with some of their elites.

The bandits were raiding a small village on the edge of the Wolfswood between Winterfell and castle Crewyn. The hunting party galloped across the grassland, piercing through the winds like arrows set loose to drill through the chests of their enemies.

"Smoke!" Robb yelled to his party as they speedily approached the village that was under attack. The party could hear faint screams of the innocent villagers.

Robb was impassive when he saw the bandits laughing and killing and burning the village. It was a normal occurrence in the Elemental Nations as well. Not being a stranger to the brutality and depravity of humans, Robb remained calm and composed. Theon had seen people die at a young age, so, he too was jaded. But, it was an entirely new situation for Jon. Robb could feel his emotions getting erratic. He could feel Jon's anger radiating out of him.

"Jon!"

The boy grunted.

"Calm down. Anger will lead you to making bad decisions and may even cost us, or you, dearly."

He could feel Jon trying to reign in his anger.

The bandits saw the hunting party approaching and let lose their arrows.

"Shield and evade!"

Then, the party expertly evaded the arrows and charged without slowing down. The bandits once again tried to shoot them down by using arrows, but they could do nothing against the maneuverability of the horses.

The villagers pleaded to be saved upon seeing the Stark banners flying. Robb and the party answered their pleas by decimating the bandit raid. They chased down the bandits and killed every single one of them. The laughter of their tormentors had transformed into screams for mercy, but they received none.

Robb and the party were merciless. The bandits had normal leather and fur as their armor. They were slaughtered like rabid animals as the hunting party's swords and spears chopped through them.

When every bandit's body was collected and counted, Robb ordered his men to burn the bodies after taking their weapons. He looked at the devastated villagers who were crying over their dead loved ones and said, "I want fifteen able bodied men and women to come with me to Winterfell."

An older looking man came forward and asked, "What for, m-my lord?"

Robb looked into the man's eyes and said, "These swords and axes that were used to cause such grief and loss to you, they will be used to protect your village by the people of your village, ya' know. For that, I need fifteen able bodied men and women who will be given martial training so that what happened today can be prevented in the future."

The villagers felt enlightened, and fifteen of them volunteered to go to Winterfell. It was on that day that Robb realised how much the lack of chakra impacted the lives of the people.

'There is no chakra. Men can't be dispatched for quick relief and counter-attack to such raids. What happened to this village could have been handled in a much better way with minimal casualties amongst the villagers. The best solution is to train and arm the villagers themselves so that they can protect their own. This will also increase the number as well as the quality of men than can be called to arms in case of war. One solution with so many benefits. I have to talk to father.'

Men of the army usually resided near castles and strongholds so that they could be mobilized quickly. Training men from distant villages and expanding towns and cities in the North filled with people who could defend themselves and raise arms in defense of the North, that was Robb's ultimate plan. His dreams of men made of ice and dragons bringing death and destruction were too vivid and memorable. Robb took them as signs of disaster.

The North had faced scrutiny for years. He had learned of the Andal invasion, the destruction caused by the Faith militant, and the southern kingdoms. He had learned of the king who knelt to Aegon and his sister-wives for his people. For the past hundreds of years, the North stood loyal only to be betrayed by the mad king.

Robb was going to raise an army of men who could repel attacks even from dragons, much less any attacks from the south. It was going to be a deterrent against possible wars. He knew that despite having a strong army, wars weren't preventable. But, a strong army was enough to discourage opportunists and make them think twice before waging a war against the North.

'Fire or ice... We will be ready. Believe it.'