"If that's all we need to do, then it should be enough."
Seeing Robb calmly organize his thoughts and handle the situation so decisively in such a short time, Maester Luwin nodded in satisfaction.
Given the current state of the North, making a huge commotion was neither wise nor necessary. The matter concerning the Night's Watch could still be handled quietly.
All they truly needed to do was send confirmation to Castle Black and prepare accordingly.
The raven sent from Winterfell would serve as both a warning and a precaution.
If Tywin Lannister had truly lost his mind and chosen rebellion, then the North would have time to react without alarming the enemy too early.
And if Castle Black remained stable, then there would be no need for unnecessary movements.
At the same time, the letter would also warn Lord Commander Jeor Mormont to remain vigilant against any suspicious actions from the south.
More importantly, Winterfell would certainly not be the only place sending word to the Wall. Orders from King's Landing would likely arrive before their own message did.
With that in mind, whether trouble truly existed at Castle Black or not, House Umber's investigation at Last Hearth combined with reports from the Wall would be enough to confirm the truth.
In the end, the matter was simple.
If Tywin remained quiet, then everything would settle peacefully.
If not, then they would merely need to suppress a scattered group of southern invaders trapped in the freezing North without supplies or support.
Yet despite Luwin's approval, Robb slowly shook his head.
"No, Maester Luwin. We need to do more."
Luwin blinked in confusion.
"What do you mean?"
A confident smile appeared on Robb Stark's face.
"Because if everything happens exactly as Karl Stone—"
He coughed lightly before correcting himself.
"—as King Karl predicted…"
Robb picked up the letter from King's Landing resting beside his bed and looked directly at Luwin.
"Our current preparations still aren't enough for the worst possible outcome."
"More accurately… we'll lose the opportunity to crush the danger before it fully begins."
Luwin paused for a moment before understanding what Robb meant.
A smile slowly spread across the old maester's face.
"And what exactly are you planning?"
This was the first true military operation of Robb's life.
It was also the first time he had exercised real authority.
The cold night air made his blood burn with excitement.
"We shouldn't make a massive disturbance," Robb said steadily. "That's unnecessary."
"But if we prepare for the worst while using the smallest possible cost, then we'll be able to handle everything efficiently."
"That isn't wasteful preparation."
As he spoke, his trembling fingers unconsciously reached down to stroke Grey Wind's thick fur.
The direwolf narrowed its eyes calmly, almost as if it could sense the excitement boiling within its master's heart.
In the dim candlelight, Grey Wind's sharp teeth gleamed faintly.
Despite his excitement, however, Robb's thoughts remained remarkably calm and organized.
Seeing this, Maester Luwin felt increasingly satisfied.
Robb was thoughtful.
Careful.
Far-sighted.
In many ways, he was already showing qualities Luwin had rarely seen even in Eddard Stark himself.
Perhaps this truly was the blood of the direwolf awakening within the Stark family.
"I'm very interested in your plan," Luwin said warmly.
"Explain it to me in detail, and I'll include everything in the letter to your father."
"I believe both Lord Stark and Lady Catelyn would be very proud to see how much you've grown."
Hearing the praise, Robb smiled awkwardly for a moment.
Still, the confidence in his eyes only deepened.
"The North is not like Casterly Rock," Robb said quietly.
"This isn't a land of endless summer."
"The wind, the snow, and the cold will teach any lion how to lower its head and crawl obediently."
"And if it refuses…"
"Then only death awaits it."
His voice grew firmer.
"So besides House Umber acting as the vanguard, I also plan to mobilize troops from House Karstark at Karhold and House Bolton at the Dreadfort."
"Combined with Winterfell's forces, those three houses alone would be enough to make this lion tremble."
"And the best part is that none of this will interfere with the North's preparations for winter."
"Everything will remain normal."
"No panic."
"No chaos."
"The snow will bury everything quietly, and no one beyond the North will ever know what truly happened."
"Perhaps in the future, Old Nan will simply add another story to her collection."
Standing in his room, the young acting lord of Winterfell spoke confidently before the maester who had taught and raised him since childhood.
His analysis was meticulous.
Every advantage the North possessed—
Every weakness Tywin faced—
Robb saw them clearly.
As Luwin listened, he unconsciously began constructing the situation in his mind like pieces upon a map.
If the worst truly happened…
If Tywin acted against the realm…
Then Robb's plan would form a perfect encirclement around the Wall.
And the conclusion Luwin reached was simple.
Perfect.
If he himself stood on the opposite side of this strategy, even he would struggle to find a weakness.
"Young Master Robb," Luwin said softly, clapping his hands once.
"This is an excellent plan."
The old maester's eyes gleamed proudly in the darkness.
He had watched every Stark child grow up.
To him, they were no different from his own children.
And now, seeing fifteen-year-old Robb display such maturity and capability filled him with pride.
"I'm only trying my best, Maester Luwin," Robb replied honestly.
Receiving praise from an elder he respected deeply made him genuinely happy.
In Robb's view, the situation was already firmly under control.
Whether Tywin's rebellion was real or merely suspicion no longer mattered.
Preparations were necessary regardless.
House Umber would serve as the first line of defense and the source of reliable information.
Then, behind them, House Stark, House Bolton, and House Karstark would stand ready.
Any one of those great houses alone could likely suppress a rebellion at Castle Black.
Together?
Tywin would stand no chance.
Especially in the harsh northern climate.
The North favored its own people.
Snow.
Wind.
Distance.
Cold.
All of them were enemies to southern armies.
Each house only needed to commit several hundred soldiers, perhaps a thousand at most.
That was enough.
And because the burden would be shared among the four houses, none of them would suffer significant strain.
The people would continue preparing for winter peacefully.
The war would never reach their homes.
Most importantly, the locations of Winterfell, Last Hearth, Karhold, and the Dreadfort formed a natural geographic trap around the Wall itself.
If Tywin truly attempted something foolish, Robb's preparations would leave him completely surrounded.
There would be no escape.
At that point, House Lannister itself might vanish from the history of Westeros forever.
Still, despite all the praise, Robb did not become arrogant.
He laughed lightly and looked toward Luwin.
"You and Father taught me many things, Maester."
Though modest, his voice still carried quiet confidence.
Luwin smiled in satisfaction.
"With this, I believe we can answer both the King and your father appropriately."
Then he glanced toward the dark sky outside the window.
"You should rest now, Young Master Robb."
"I'll return immediately to write to King Karl and Lord Stark."
"The letters for House Bolton, House Umber, and House Karstark must also be sent at once."
As he spoke, Luwin prepared to leave.
But Robb stood up alongside him with a grin.
"I'll come with you."
"How could I stay here resting while you handle everything alone for House Stark?"
At this point, Robb no longer felt sleepy at all.
He folded the letter carefully and handed it to Luwin before pulling on his clothes.
The excitement of responsibility had completely driven away his exhaustion.
—
Far away in King's Landing, deep within the Tower of the Hand, Bran Stark slept uneasily in his room.
Beside his bed, Summer lay curled protectively against him.
The direwolf's ears twitched occasionally as he rested.
But Bran's sleep was far from peaceful.
Sweat rolled down his forehead, soaking into the pillow beneath him.
His eyes moved rapidly beneath closed eyelids.
He was dreaming.
In the dream, Bran found himself back at Winterfell.
More specifically—
At the broken tower.
He stood beside the same window from which Jaime Lannister had pushed him.
No…
It felt even stranger than that.
It was as though he had never left.
The moment Bran realized where he was standing, terror gripped his heart.
His hands instinctively reached for the cracks in the cold stone wall beside him.
He pressed himself tightly against it, desperately avoiding the open air beyond the window.
The wind howled outside.
Cold.
Sharp.
Endless.
And yet, despite his fear, something inside him still compelled him to look downward.
Slowly…
Carefully…
Bran lowered his gaze.
Below him was only darkness.
An endless abyss stretched beneath the tower.
Bottomless.
Silent.
Terrifying.
The sight filled Bran with overwhelming fear, and he immediately jerked his head back.
Then suddenly—
Flap. Flap.
The sound of wings echoed nearby.
Bran turned sharply toward the noise.
A raven sat perched upon the gargoyle outside the tower wall.
It stared directly at him.
Its feathers were black as midnight.
Its eyes were equally dark.
But within those eyes—
There was another eye.
A strange vertical eye blinking slowly at the center of its gaze.
The raven tilted its head.
Then it spoke.
"Jump."
Its voice was hoarse and distant, as though echoing across a vast canyon.
Bran's heart nearly stopped.
"Jump down."
The raven's voice became louder.
More urgent.
"Only by falling can you learn to fly."
"Only by facing the abyss can you truly open your eyes."
"Jump."
"Jump!"
Fear consumed Bran completely.
He buried his head against the wall and tightened his grip on the stone.
"No!"
"I won't jump!"
"I don't want to fly!"
"I can already see!"
"But I don't want to look down!"
The fear was unbearable.
Bran wanted to escape.
He wanted to run away from the tower, from the raven, from the abyss below.
But when he tried turning around—
There was no doorway behind him.
Only solid stone.
The wall itself blocked his escape.
He was trapped.
The raven grew increasingly frantic.
It flapped its wings violently before suddenly flying toward him.
"Jump!"
"You will grow wings!"
"You will fly!"
"If you fly, you will finally see!"
"No!"
Bran shook his head desperately.
But then he realized something horrifying.
The space beneath his feet was shrinking.
The wall behind him pushed forward slowly, forcing him closer and closer toward the edge.
Like the invisible hand that had pushed him once before.
His breathing quickened.
Panic overtook him.
His fingers clawed desperately at the cracks in the stone—
But even those began closing.
The gaps disappeared.
His hands lost their grip.
And suddenly—
There was nothing beneath him.
Bran screamed as his body fell into the endless darkness below.
The raven flew after him.
"Woof!"
A loud bark shattered the nightmare.
Summer had sensed Bran's distress.
The direwolf leapt onto the bed and barked sharply beside him.
Bran's face twisted in fear as his hands clenched the bedsheets tightly enough to nearly tear them apart.
Another bark echoed through the room.
Then Bran's eyes snapped open.
But his eyes were no longer normal.
They had turned completely white—
White as frost and snow.
Advance Chapters avilable on patreon (Obito_uchiha)