Ethan had carefully prepared a hearty sauerkraut pork-and-mushroom stew for tonight.
He diced the pork into small even cubes and braised it until meltingly tender and richly flavored; the sauerkraut—made from fresh mustard greens—delivered a bright sour note that perfectly cut through the pork's richness; the dried shiitake mushrooms released deep umami as they simmered.
Even Tyrion—who was accustomed to the finest southern kitchens—couldn't resist asking for a second bowl. From tongue to stomach he was completely satisfied.
After finishing Tyrion licked his lips sighed contentedly and said to Ethan:
"Captain Ethan—if you ever tire of the mercenary life I can introduce you to the best restaurant in King's Landing as head chef."
Ethan raised his bowl in a small salute and asked with genuine concern:
"How is Sandor Clegane? I hope I didn't injure him too badly."
Tyrion burst into laughter at the question:
"'The Hound' Clegane—ha! I'm delighted I won't have to look at that ugly face for a few days.
You know—if Jaime doesn't go out and it's just me and Clegane walking the streets the northerners will probably think the Westerlands only produces hideous men!"
Ethan nodded.
"Then… that's good.
Fighting him wasn't my intention and I didn't want to hurt him."
Tyrion set down his bowl and looked at Ethan with helpless amusement.
"…It's been many years since anyone has said anything like that about the Hound.
Perhaps in his eyes you're more of a monster than that spider ever was."
Ethan touched his nose.
"Maybe.
Being a monster is quite troublesome—you always carry some inexplicable expectations."
Tyrion nodded.
"The North is the land of the First Men's descendants. It's older more isolated than the South and full of monster legends: giants over three meters tall talking heart trees direwolves bigger than cows.
I always thought those were just country bedtime stories—until I saw direwolves and ice spiders with my own eyes."
"Direwolves?" Ethan asked curiously. "Where did you see them?"
"You didn't know?" Tyrion was surprised. "Several of the Stark children each have one—still pups.
At the king's welcome banquet I personally watched one of the little white ones chase off an adult female hound."
Ethan curled his lip.
"Noble families wouldn't easily let news like that reach the ears of commoners like us.
Sigh—I want one too."
"You're too modest. With your skill you could be knighted any time you're willing to bend the knee to King Robert."
Ethan shook his head.
"Forget it. The doctor said I have a bad neck—I can't bow my head."
Seeing Ethan wouldn't respond Tyrion changed the subject back to direwolves.
"Those little things are actually quite cute—I like them a lot.
But the thought of me walking around with a dog twice my size makes me want to laugh.
Let's see if I can find any suitable pets from the Night's Watch when I reach the Wall in a few days."
"The Night's Watch?" Ethan thought for a moment. "You mean the force that guards the Wall?"
"Of course—the Night's Watch is the only one in the Seven Kingdoms.
They swear never to marry never to hold lands and to dedicate their lives to guarding that cold wall."
"Admirable," Tyrion chuckled. "So it's become a penal colony.
Tomorrow—once the king returns from his hunt—he'll head south and I'll head north to the Wall.
They say it's three hundred miles long and seven hundred feet high—the most magnificent structure in the Seven Kingdoms.
It would be a shame to come this far north and not see it."
Ethan wholeheartedly agreed.
"Indeed.
But if you separate from the king's party how many guards will they assign you?
Getting close to the Wall isn't exactly safe."
"No guards. The Kingsroad is safe under Lord Eddard's rule. I'll just take two attendants with me."
Tyrion replied. "And Benjen Stark and Jon Snow are traveling with me.
Benjen is Lord Eddard's brother and First Ranger of the Night's Watch.
With him along there shouldn't be any problems."
Ethan ladled another bowl of soup for Tyrion then spoke gravely:
"If I were you I wouldn't entrust my safety entirely to someone else's goodwill."
"…Captain Ethan—why don't you just name your price?"
"Haha—it's refreshing to talk to a clever man.
No charge.
Just take me with you."
Tyrion—perhaps misreading Ethan's original intent—kindly reminded him:
"Actually—if you wish to join my father's service traveling south with the king's party would be the better choice.
My father is very generous and very wealthy.
The entire Seven Kingdoms knows Lord Tywin's beard is made of gold.
If you like I can write you a letter of recommendation."
Ethan quickly shook his head refusing without hesitation.
"Forget it.
To be honest I don't get along with your brother your sister or your nephew at all.
I still remember His Grace calling me a commoner in public yesterday."
Tyrion laughed awkwardly.
"Joffrey… I'm afraid I rank little better than a commoner in his eyes."
After all he was speaking of his own nephew so Tyrion didn't want to dwell on the topic.
Instead he asked:
"And you—what are you going to the Wall for?"
"Didn't the king take my giant spider?
I'm planning to go beyond the Wall and catch a White Walker."
Tyrion teased:
"Then why bother remaining a mercenary?
You could become a full-time monster hunter.
Catch one monster sell it to a circus and you'd make a fortune."
"If Sheon Greyjoy hadn't tricked me into going to Rabbitpaw Village I never would have realized monster hunting suits me better than mercenary work.
Looks like I really took the wrong path before."
"Haha—speaking of him he made quite a bit of coin off you."
"Hm?"
Tyrion explained:
"Yesterday—while you Jaime and the Hound were preparing for the duel—Greyjoy set up a betting pool.
Although Clegane was the favorite and most bets were on him Greyjoy still came out ahead overall."
Ethan couldn't help admiring Theon Greyjoy's gambling instincts and luck.
"Heh—impressive.
But every gambler eventually loses everything."
Seeing their captain and guest chatting so amiably the people in the courtyard relaxed their earlier reserve.
Even so—aside from Ethan himself—the others preferred talking with Tyrion's two dour-looking servants and got along surprisingly well with them.
After agreeing to travel to the Wall together Tyrion and his men took their leave.
The purpose of the journey was only reconnaissance; Ethan and Kevin alone would be sufficient—any more would simply be extra weight.
Therefore Ethan had no intention of bringing the full team.
But he also couldn't leave them idle—that would be a waste of time.
So he took ten gold dragons from the newly received purse and handed them to Eddie and the other two.
"Eddie—you heard me.
I'm leaving for the Wall in a couple of days.
This trip is only to escort Lord Tyrion—so you three don't need to come.
While I'm gone contact as many local freelancers as possible.
If they're willing recruit them all into the Silver Hand.
Pay them market rates—and higher for those with special skills.
Including the warriors we've already agreed to aim for about twenty total.
Also—stay in contact with the Wolf's Kiss Tavern.
If any suitable work comes up write it down.
A lower price is fine—we'll decide when I return."
Eddie held the ten gold dragons feeling the weight—ten gold dragons!
"Captain—do you trust us that much? Aren't you afraid we'll run off with the money?"
"You know me."
Ethan winked at them.
"As long as you stay in this line of work you won't find a better commander than me."
Perhaps moved by Ethan's trust Eddie offered a different perspective on recruitment.
"Captain—if we're only bringing in a dozen or twenty new men I think we shouldn't recruit local freelancers."
Ethan didn't quite follow.
"Why? Aren't you local freelancers yourself?"
"Exactly—that's why I suggest against it Captain."
Eddie gathered his thoughts and explained:
"Those who end up as freelancers are all veterans who've seen battle but refuse to be tied down.
To be honest—if we hadn't witnessed your… god-like strength that night Conrad and I might never have followed you."
Ethan looked at Conrad—who nodded in agreement.
"Boss—seasoned soldiers have many demands complicated minds and endless concerns.
If you want to build a long-term effective fighting force it's best not to use them."
Ethan turned back to Eddie.
"Then what's your suggestion?"
"I think Conrad Juan and I should go to my hometown and recruit some young innocent lads from there.
They've lived in the Wolfswood for years—a little training from us and they'll make good soldiers."
"Where is your hometown?"
"My village is near the Wolfswood under Lord Glover's rule.
There are many mountain-clan hamlets around.
Life in the forest is hard. Every winter some leave to 'hunt' because of food shortages—and many never return.
Officially the mountain clans owe allegiance to House Glover of Deepwood Motte—but in practice they're quite independent.
Recruiting there won't cause any trouble with the lord and it will be much cheaper.
I used to trade with their headmen when I hunted in the mountains.
If you agree we can prepare and set out."
Eddie's suggestion was a pleasant surprise for Ethan.
Throughout Chinese history the strongest fighting forces had always come from ordinary peasant sons—Ethan understood that principle well.
He simply hadn't had the connections before and had settled for veterans.
Now that Eddie was offering he had no reason to refuse.
As for the risk of cliques forming within the team Ethan wasn't worried.
As long as his personal strength could suppress any ambitious subordinates—and he never delegated pay distribution or merit evaluation to others—he could naturally maintain discipline and morale.
Therefore he decided to let Eddie handle it.
After settling the team's plans Ethan remembered his earlier promise to Lennar after returning from Rabbitpaw Village.
He turned and asked:
"Lennar—since you can't work right now why don't you come with us to the Wall?
Didn't you tell me to take you on the next mission?"
Lennar—holding a wooden bowl in his right hand and clumsily maneuvering a spoon with his left—immediately answered:
"No problem—as long as you don't think I'll be a burden."
Brother John also wanted to see the Wall—but someone had to remain at the courtyard to look after things.
After recent growth his small sept had gained several regular worshippers who came to pray to the Seven from time to time; it couldn't be left unattended.
So he reluctantly gave up the long journey.
Unfortunately just as Ethan was actively preparing for the northward trip shocking news spread from Winterfell: Bran Stark second son of the Duke of Winterfell had fallen from a tower and was critically injured now in a deep coma.
The royal party postponed their return south.
Tyrion even made a special visit to the courtyard to inform Ethan of the change in plans.
Of course—for someone of his station sending a servant would have been sufficient.
So he was really more interested in sharing drinks with Ethan.
After all few people in Winterfell were worth talking to—and his brother preferred to stay close to their sister.
But whatever happened inside Winterfell was irrelevant to Ethan.
The delay meant little to him.
Eddard and the others had already left for the Wolfswood.
With no other pressing matters—and while the king's guards were still in the city—Ethan accelerated forging the remaining pieces of "Lightbringer – Pseudo" to ensure Kevin received a complete suit before departure.
On the day the forge was relit Kevin—who had been quietly sulking for days—blushed stammered an apology to Ethan:
"Teacher—I apologize for my rudeness that day.
I shouldn't have spoken to you in that tone…
If my master had been anyone but you but any other knight I would surely have been severely punished for such disrespect."
"I shouldn't have repeatedly tested your authority by taking advantage of your patience.
I swear in the name of the Sun God An'she that I will never make the same mistake again."
Ethan couldn't recall whether the Sun God An'she's portfolio included guaranteeing oaths.
"Kevin—I don't blame you.
A philosopher from my homeland once said no two leaves are exactly alike—let alone people.
You have your views I have mine—that's perfectly normal.
In the future if you don't understand one of my decisions don't keep it bottled up.
Find a chance to ask me and I'll still explain.
Remember—you are my student not my servant.
You are a person—not a tool."
"Understood Teacher."
After clearing the air the master-student relationship finally returned to normal.
It took nearly two more weeks for Ethan to finish forging the remaining parts.
Because he was extremely confident in his design he made no structural changes to the "Lightbringer" pattern—replicating it exactly.
When Kevin donned the complete "Lightbringer – Pseudo" suit and stood beside Ethan he looked like a silver-white mirror image.
"Give this armor a name.
I think it will stay with you for a long time."
"Teacher—does your armor have a name?"
"This one I'm wearing is called Lightbringer."
"Lightbringer… the one who brings light…
Then Teacher—I'll call mine Light Servant the one who follows the light."
🪽✨🪽✨🪽✨🪽✨🪽✨🪽✨🪽✨🪽
Read Extra Chapter Visit My Patreon
I have only 1 tier
19$ Tier – Access to 40 advance chapters
patreon.com/Lempil
patreon.com/Lempil