GOT: A Transmigrator's Conquest

Under the cover of night, Stannon Baratheon's ship finally arrived at White Harbor. Ser Barristan Selmy had carefully planned every detail of their journey north, including disguises for the group. By sunrise, they looked like a simple group of travelers. Stannon dressed as a merchant's apprentice, keeping his hood low to avoid attention.

The disguises were simple but effective. Ser Barristan wore a rugged cloak over his armor, posing as a sellsword. Jory grew out a scruffy beard and played the part of a gruff trader. The rest of the group, disguised as guards and laborers, carried crates of supplies to make their cover story believable.

Their goal was Winterfell, but the road ahead was dangerous. Ser Barristan led the way, always scanning the area for danger.

The group traveled carefully, using well-known roads during the day and camping in hidden spots at night. The cold northern air bit at them, and they often huddled close to the fire to stay warm. Despite the dangers ahead, Stannon stayed calm, relying on his training and his secret system for confidence.

If Stannon was honest, he loved travelling and the cold places were on of his most favourite ones. But due to the fear of assassination he wasn't able to enjoy that. And he really hated the Lannister family for that.

'House Lannister and me definitely cannot coexist,' Stannon thought as he continued to travel with others.

The farther they traveled, the harsher the landscape became. Snow stretched endlessly across the land, and tall pines surrounded them, giving them a creepy look because of the tension in the group. On the third night, the trouble began.

The group had set up camp in a quiet grove. The fire sizzled softly as knights took turns keeping watch. Stannon had just gone to his tent when a sharp whistle broke the silence. He sat up immediately, grabbing his sword, but Ser Barristan's firm voice stopped him.

"Please stay in the tent, your grace," the knight requested. "We'll handle this."

Stannon hesitated but nodded, peeking through a small gap in the tent. Shadows flickered near the fire as a group of rough-looking bandits stepped out from the trees. There were at least ten of them, armed with rusty swords, clubs, and daggers. Their leader, a scarred man, stepped forward with a scary look on his face.

"Well, well," he said mockingly. "Looks like we've got ourselves a rich little group. Hand over your goods, and we might let you live."

Ser Barristan calmly stepped in front of the other knights, his hand resting on his sword. "You're making a mistake," he said. "Walk away, and no one has to die."

The bandits laughed, and their leader smiled. "Big talk, old man. Let's see if you can back it up."

'Why are people like these in every setting,' Stannon couldn't help but sigh as he heard the conversation between them.

The bandits attacked quickly, charging with their weapons. Ser Barristan drew his sword swiftly, moving like a seasoned warrior. Jory and the other kinghts too joined the fight, their weapons clashing with the bandits'.

The white snow below slowly started being painted with red colour as the fight progressed. Ser Barristan moved like a whirlwind, cutting down bandits with precise strikes. Jory fought fiercely, using his sword to take down two attackers in moments. Few of the knights formed a defensive circle around the tent where he was, while the rest fought off the remaining bandits.

The fight was over in a minute right after it started. This couldn't even be called a battle but Stannon's side mercilessly bullying the bandits.

Still despite their poor skills and weapons, the bandits fought desperately. One of them, a skinny boy no older than fifteen, slipped through the chaos. He darted toward a knight guardian Stannon, his dagger aimed directly at the kinght's chest. The boy's face was pale, and his wide eyes revealed his fear.

The knight shoved him back with ease, raising his sword defensively in case the boy tried to attack again. The boy stumbled, wide-eyed, glancing around in desperation until his gaze locked on Ser Barristan.

"Drop your weapon," Ser Barristan commanded, his voice calm but firm. "You don't belong here."

The boy froze, his small frame trembling. Around him, the chaos had subsided. The other bandits were either lifeless, fleeing into the shadows, or surrendering in the snow. Their leader lay still, blood spreading around him in a dark, steaming pool.

"Do it," Ser Barristan said again, stepping forward with deliberate care. "You're just a boy. Don't throw your life away."

The boy's knuckles whitened around the dagger before his grip faltered. The weapon fell with a soft clink against the frozen ground. He dropped to his knees, covering his face with trembling hands. The grove was silent now, save for the heavy breathing of the survivors and the crackling of the campfire.

Stannon stepped out of his tent, his heart hammering in his chest. The scene before him seemed surreal—the snow painted red with the bloodied bodies of bandits, the lifeless stares of those who had fallen. It was the first time he had seen death up close. His stomach dropped, but he forced himself to stay still, to look.

A part of him wanted to look away, to run back into the safety of his tent. But another part knew better. This was the world he lived in now, and he would have to adapt unless he wanted to go crazy. Someday, he might be the one wielding the blade. That thought made his throat tighten, but he swallowed hard and stepped forward.

"What do we do with him?" Jory asked, breaking the quiet.

Ser Barristan sheathed his sword and turned to the boy, who was still kneeling in the snow, tears streaking his dirtied face. "We take him with us," he said without hesitation. "Leaving him here is the same as killing him. He's no threat now."

The knights exchanged wary glances but complied, tying the boy's hands loosely enough to let him walk but firm enough to ensure he wouldn't try anything. Stannon watched in silence, his hands trembling slightly, that may have been due to the cold or the brutal scene in front of him.

As the group began packing up to move, Stannon found himself drawn to the boy. He approached cautiously, not to scare the boy even more.

"What's your name?" he asked, his voice softer than he expected.

The boy hesitated, shivering with cold. "Colen," he murmured.

Stannon nodded and tried to reassure the boy,"Listen, Colen. You're with us now. Do as you're told, stay close, and you might get through this. Understand?"

The scene kinda looked odd as Stannon who barely came to Colen's shoulder was reassuring him. Ser Barriston couldn't help but smile as he watched this.

As they continued their journey through the cold, Stannon's mind lingered on the bodies left behind. He thought about the bandits' last moments, the way they had fought and fallen.

He looked down at his own hands, imagining them bloodied one day. It wasn't a question of if—it was when. The thought made his stomach drop again, but he gritted his teeth. He would have to grow used to it, he told himself. Survival in this world demanded no less.

'Its kill or be killed,' Stannon assured himself.

After the ambush, the group traveled cautiously as usual. Colen stayed quiet all the time, walking with his head down. Stannon couldn't help but feel sorry for him. The boy was young and scared, clearly out of place in a violent world.

The road became easier as they neared Winterfell. Snow-covered plains gave way to hills and forests, though the air grew colder.

When they finally saw Winterfell's gates in the distance, Stannon felt a bit relieved.

They reached the gates quickly and dismounted their horses. A group of people stood waiting to greet them, wrapped in thick cloaks to protect against the cold northern wind. Stannon looked back at Jory, who was staring at the gates.

Walking over, Stannon patted him on the back with a smile.

"It must feel good to be back home, huh, Jory?" Stannon said casually.

Jory gave a small smile and nodded. "Yes, your grace, it does. It's been far too long."

Out of habit, Stannon decided to use his system to check on Jory's progress in knife combat. It was a little secret competition he had been having with Jory for a while, though Jory had no idea about it. Stannon had been using his system's skill and ability generation function ever since King's Landing to track Jory's progress, even though he couldn't copy or use Jory's skills himself due to the cooldown period.

For over a month, he had been monitoring Jory's knife combat skill. It had been stuck at the one-star level, with no progress whatsoever. Stannon figured it was either because Jory hadn't trained enough or because the skill was incredibly hard to improve without the help of something like his system.

As Stannon patted Jory's back, the familiar golden glow of his system's panel appeared in front of him. He looked at it to check Jory's skill, wondering if there would be any changes to it. But when the words on the panel appeared, they shocked Stannon to the core.

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[Scanning Target...]

[Target: Oren Stone]

[Generating skills and abilities...]

Skills Generated:

1. Silent Assassin ★★★★★

Oren is highly skilled in stealth, able to move without making a sound. His speed and quietness allow him to approach his targets without being detected, making him a deadly assassin.

2. Combat Mastery ★★★★★

Trained to fight with various weapons, Oren is particularly proficient with daggers and small blades. His ability to read opponents' moves and strike with precision makes him a dangerous adversary.

3. Stealthy Escape ★★★★★

Oren excels in escaping from dangerous situations. Whether through secret passages or hidden paths, he can always find a way to evade pursuit and vanish into the shadows.

4. Poison Specialist ★★★

Oren possesses a deep knowledge of poisons and their effects. He can identify, create, and neutralize various toxins, as well as use them effectively to incapacitate or eliminate his targets. This expertise makes him an asset in both offensive and defensive scenarios.

5. Poison Resistance ★★

Oren's body has developed a natural resistance to most toxins through extensive training and controlled exposure. While not entirely immune, his resistance allows him to endure or recover quickly from the effects of weaker poisons and survive encounters with stronger ones.

Abilities Generated:

1. Master of Disguise ★★★★★★

Oren has the unique ability to change his face and identity at will. He can adopt anyone's appearance, even copying their voice and gestures to make his disguise flawless. No one can tell the difference between Oren and the person he's imitating.

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