[Chaos Gacha System Initiated, Achieve great feats to receive reward!]
The stream of words continued to flash in front of Jon's eyes with letters gleaming in gold. He tried to blink. He blinked, once, twice, but the line did not fade. It lingered, as if carved into the very air before him. He did not understand the thing he received from the sorceror merchant, but he knew his life just took a huge but strange turn. As Jon read the whole sentence, another stream of light flashed with another message.
[Deeds of worth shall be met with fitting reward. The more greater the feat, the more significant the boon. However, fortune favors neither the bold nor the meek. They will only answer to chaos.]
[As a start, the System has granted you three Golden tickets. Tear the remaining tickets and let chaos turn the wheel. Use what you gain wisely. ]
As Jon read the final word, he did not hesitate. He tore the remaining golden tickets in quick succession, watching as they dissolved into shimmering particles that sank into him.
Power surged through his veins. Sharp, sudden, and unfamiliar. The unseen wheel turned, and with it came its boon.
Jon exhaled slowly, steadying himself. Though wary of the System, his thoughts drifted back to the merchant's parting words.
"If you wish to face me… then use the gift I gave you."
His jaw tightened. Why him? Why a bastard? Why not Robb… or his father… or his uncle?
The questions burned quietly within him.
He would endure. He would learn. He would wield this strange power, no matter how uncertain its nature.
And one day, he would find that man.
And he would have his answers.
His thoughts were cut short as a new line of golden lights erupted in front of his eyes.
[Quickening]
|Elite Skill|
Bloodborne - You have mastered the Quickening Technique of the Old Hunters, allowing you to briefly dash forward with incredible speed while shrouding your form in arcane fog to obscure your movements. This can put quite a strain on the stamina and energy.
[Heat Metal]
|Uncommon Ability|
DnD - Allows you to increase the temperature of any metal in your sensory range, the more energy you expend the faster and hotter you can increase the target's temperature.
[Big Battery]
|Rare Trait|
Your energy reserves are noticeably above average, not so much that you would be touted as a genius above all but enough to be very noticeable.
Jon felt it at once. His reserves had grown, stretched far beyond what they had been. He had already been strong for his age, tempered by long hours of training under Ser Jory, but this… this was something else entirely. With this "Big Battery" (whatever that meant) he could feel endurance pooling within him, vast and steady, as though it would take far longer for him to tire. He did not understand the word, but he understood its effect well enough—and for that, he was grateful.
Yet it was the other two gifts that unsettled him.
Magic.
What else could Quickening and Heat Metal mean if not magic? He already heard of flaming swords from followers of the Red God across the Narrow Sea, but he hadn't known if there was a magic the likes of Quickening. If there was, they would be frightening enemies to fight. Raw and untapped reserves deep inside his body, improved by his Big Battery trait.
He had always believed it gone from the world, if it had ever truly existed at all. The Targaryens had their dragons once, but now only bones remained, displayed in the Red Keep as relics of a dead age. Even the tales Old Nan told. The Others, the Children, the things beyond the Wall. He had taken as stories meant to frighten children into obedience. Nothing more. It's possible implications to the Night's Watch is nothing short of terrifying.
But his encounter with Gaunter O 'Dimm had torn that belief apart.
The world was wider than he had ever imagined.
Wider, and far more dangerous.
For if such power existed… then it was not his alone. Others might wield it. Others might twist it.
What if there were those who used magic for cruelty… for dominion… for war?
The thought settled uneasily in his mind.
And for a fleeting moment, Jon almost wished he had remained ignorant. But almost immediately he rejected the notion. For if magic has returned, or rediscovered, then that means it will be up to him to protect his family, and to protect the North from the dangers that might harm its people. Maybe he can step out of his bastardy for that fact. And perhaps… this was his chance to be seen for more than just Eddard Stark's bastard son. He's almost four and ten namedays. He is almost at the age where he'll need to decide on his path. After today, he doesn't even know what he wants to do. The Night's Watch is a very promising option. He will be on the frontlines when the Others come, and taking the black is certainly an honorable path for him. But with the knowledge and the System with him now, he knows he can build more.
For now, he will explore his chaotic gift. Maybe it could provide him answers to questions he has always longed to be answered.
[Meet and survive the encounter with Gaunter O 'Dimm!]
[Reward: Silver Skill Ticket]
Rolling: Silver Skill Ticket
Reward: [Novice Arms Mastery]
|Uncommon Skill|
You are able to handle all conventional weapons, ranging from knives to swords to axes to polearms to guns to bows to even chained weapons and clubs with basic proficiency, enough to have some familiarity and know how it's used.]
'What luck he had today. A mastery for different kinds of arms! He was already trained to use a longsword and the mastery, even if as a novice, in different types of arm is quite a boon.' Jon gulped in surprise as he read the silver reward for meeting O' Dimm. Thr thought of the man unnerved him. What was he exactly if meeting him gave him a silver 'ticket'? Apparently, that's how the system called the small strips of parchment.
For now, training comes first. He could test his gifts later when he is alone.
-----
Jon arrived at the training yard later than usual, the shock of his newfound gifts still lingering at the edges of his thoughts.
Steel rang against steel as he stepped through the gate.
Robb and Theon were already in the middle of a bout, circling each other across the packed dirt while Ser Jory Cassel watched with a critical eye. He found Robb in the middle of sparring with Theon with Ser Jory watching the bout. It did not take long for the Northern Knight to notice him arrive.
"You're late, Jon," the knight said as Jon approached.
Jon approached, offering a slight shrug. "There was trouble in the streets. A merchant had his mirror stolen—some quick-fingered thief."
That drew a glance.
"And you caught him?" Ser Jory asked.
Jon nodded. "He didn't get far." Robb barked a laugh as he stepped back from Theon, lowering his practice blade. "Of course he didn't. You always did have a nose for trouble, Snow."
Theon smirked, rolling his shoulders. "Or trouble has a nose for him."
Jory Cassel's gaze to Jon lingered for a moment before nodding towards the rack of weapons by the wall.
"Then you've got energy to spare. Get your sword and swap with Theon."
Jon nodded as he followed Jory's instruction. By the time he returned from the weapons rack, Theon has already left the ring and stood beside Jory Cassel.
As he returned the training yard, he clasped his hand around the hilt of a practice longsword. The weight settled into his hand with an odd sense of familiarity—more than it should have. As if the balance, the grip, the reach… all of it had already been learned somewhere deep within him.
'What incredible power,' Jon took a deep breath as he let his gifts settle into his body.
"Robb," Ser Jory called. "You're fresh enough. Face your brother."
"Ready to be stomped, Snow?" Robb grinned as he readied himself for another fight. Jon mirrored Robb's grin with a smile of his own.
"Only if you've improved since the last time," he replied, voice even.
Robb's grin widened. "We'll see about that." Steel rose as Ser Jory's voice rang out once more.
"Begin!"
Due to his status as a bastard, Jon was afforded more time to practice his swordsmanship more than Theon and Robb. He had spent more hours in the yard than either of them, steel in hand, sweat in his eyes, constantly sharpening and honing his skill beyond his limits. Naturally, he was the more skilled among the three boys.
Now there was this.
The boon still lingered within him, subtle yet undeniable, like a second memory layered atop his own. Movements felt clearer. Choices, simpler. As if the path of the sword had narrowed into something he could finally follow without hesitation. It was a slight adjustment to movements, but it paid a lot as he clashed with Robb.
A quiet thought stirred within Jon suddenly.
'How far could this take me?'
Everything he had already built with his own hands. For the first time, the question did not feel distant. It felt possible.
A slight shift to his left found his blade intercepting Robb's sword at the last possible moment, turning Robb's strike aside with minimal force. At the same time, his body shifted forward, closing distance in a way he had never quite managed before. Jon let his instinct take over as he lunged before finding the tip of his sword at Roob's ribs.
"Point." The master-at-arms spoke.
"Again?" Robb said, more serious now.
"Again," Jon accepted as he returned to his previous position. The two brothets came at each other with less humor. Steel rang across the yard as the two demonstrated their skills in the blade. Several exchanges passed as Jon became aware of something strange. He wasn't tiring. Not even a little.
His breathing remained steady, his arms light, his footing sure. Across from him, Robb was not the same. His breaths had grown heavier, each exhale audible now, echoing faintly through the yard as sweat began to cling to his brow.
Jon suddenly remembered the Big Battery trait he received from the three golden tickets. It was still difficult to comprehend these strange gifts, granted by an equally strange being that did not belong in this world.
Still, he would not waste them. If they were truly his, then he would use them to improve himself, to grow stronger, to endure longer than he ever had before. Yet caution lingered alongside ambition. Jon was wary of this new power, of how easily it had been placed within him, and how little he understood its cost.
His battle with his brother ended as his quick parry disarmed his brother. A little twist in his wrost as he let his blade slip into Robb's own. Then the heir's sword clattered to the ground, his grip into it lost. Robb chuckled as he picked up his sword.
"Good battle, Snow. Do you ever get tired?" Robb spoke in an a tired smile.
"You still made me work for that win," Jon admitted. For all his advantage in practice and time, Robb was still no easy opponent. The difference between them was not one-sided skill. It was expectation, pressure, and the weight of a name. Robb Stark was the heir of Winterfell. And an heir was not allowed to be weak.
Not in the North.
Not where strength was respect, and respect was survival. A lord who could not fight for himself would find few willing to follow him when it mattered.
Robb exhaled through his nose, rubbing his wrist where the sword had been knocked free. "You've gotten better."
"Maybe," he replied quietly. "Or maybe you're just getting worse." That earned a short bark of laughter from Theon, while Jory smiled at the two brothers. It was common knowledge in Winterfell that Jon and Robb were as thick as thieves since they were little. No matter how much Catelyn hated Jon coming near Robb, it didn't matter when it was Robb that attached himself to his brother. Jon was thankful to Robb for that. While the world treated him as a product of sin, Robb treated him as family to be protected, to be included. That's why Jon was unquestionably loyal to his family. Because no matter what happens, he knows they will be there for him.
"Good work out there, Snow," Ser Jory said at last, giving a rare nod of approval. "Your footwork still needs work, but the strength of your arm, and your conviction, will serve you well on a battlefield."
His gaze shifted to Robb. "You as well, Robb. Your strength should be enough to earn you victory in war, but your endurance and defense still need considerable work."
Robb wiped sweat from his brow, still catching his breath. "I'll work on it."
"Now get some rest. It will be supper soon and Lord Stark wouldn't want you three missing dinner." Jory siad finally.
The three laughed and went their way back into the castle. As Jon was about to follow, he felt a familiar shift in his body again. This time, a ticket appeared in his hands. But instead of gold, the ticket glimmered in silver
[Feat achieved: Defeat Robb Stark in a spar.
Reward: Bronze ticket]
[Rolling ticket...]
[Ratio Technique]
|Uncommon Ability|
Jujutsu Kaisen - Allows you to split your target into imaginary lines that forcibly create a weak spot for them at the ratio point of seven to three, hitting a target on that spot will deal critical damage.
"Snow, you alright there?" Robb called out, breaking him out of his thoughts. Jon did not understand what this ability means. Still, he intended to test it. Tomorrow, perhaps. When his mind was clearer, and his stomach full. For now, he would let himself rest and eat dinner. He knows Arya would want to know what what he got up to today. There's also his father to consider. He wondered if telling his father of his new ability would be a good idea.