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Game of Thrones: The Ruler- Chapter 8: Bandits
🕑 Added 2025-06-18 10:13:37 +0000 UTCIn the past three years, Jon Snow had steadily refined his plans for conquest.
His fighting skills were unparalleled. Physically, he was stronger than any man and his strength was still growing. But strength alone could not conquer or govern a kingdom.
He needed an army. He needed resources. And that was something he could not acquire in Westeros.
The realm was stable, at least as long as Robert Baratheon remained alive and carving out a sphere of influence would be nearly impossible. His identity as Ned Stark’s bastard came as an added impediment.
No, Westeros would have to wait. Jon had to go to Essos. His conquest would begin there.
He had already drafted a rough plan. All it needed now was some fine-tuning based on the circumstances he encountered.
There was one more piece still missing. The gift his father had left for him. Jon had yet to uncover it. And depending on what it was, it could reshape his plans entirely.
He had been on the road for seven days now, with four more days’ ride ahead before reaching White Harbor.
He travelled by day and rested by night, setting up camp in the forests along the road. He had neither the coin to afford an inn nor the desire to risk being recognized. He was certain Lord Stark would already be looking for him.
Of course, staying alone in the woods overnight would have been dangerous for most people but not for Jon. He used his skinchanging abilities to control the animals nearby. From the smallest squirrel to the largest beast he could find, he controlled them a formed a protective barrier around him. With this natural shield in place, Jon could sleep peacefully.
While travelling through the forest, Jon had also tried to spot a direwolf, hoping he might find one to accompany him. But fate did not favour him. No sign of one appeared. It seemed he would have to wait for Ghost, after all.
It was nearly dusk now. Though Jon remained fit and alert, he could feel his horse beginning to tire from the long journey. He was about to nudge the horse into the woods to set up camp when he heard a muffled groan.
Jon raised his brows and continued moving forwards, guiding the horse carefully toward the sound.
After riding another hundred metres, he reached the source of the sound.
Three bulky men were trying to drag a girl towards the forest. The girl seemed to be around sixteen or seventeen years of age.
The girl was fighting against them with every ounce of strength she could muster. Her clothes were old and tattered and now it had been torn apart at multiple places because of the struggle.
Beside the road lay three corpses. Two middle-aged women and a man. A carriage tied to a single horse also stood at some distance away. Three horses, probably of the men, were also standing nearby.
While Jon was studying the scene, the men took notice of him and paused.
The one in the middle, likely the leader of the group, grinned evilly.
“Boy, you are unlucky to have run into us,” he sneered. “I will give you one chance. Leave everything behind. Your horse, your sword. And run.”
“If you are lucky, you can survive long out here. You should not move alone on the roads.”
Jon did not answer. His gaze remained fixed on the girl.
She had pitch black hair and deep, dark eyes. Though her face was filled with terror, Jon still saw something in her eyes. Defiance. Hope. The will to fight. And that is why despite knowing that she stood no chance against these three men, she had been struggling with all her might. This kind of will was inherent in any person and was a rare quality.
“Are you deaf, boy?” barked one of the other men seeing Jon remain unresponsive. “Drop your things and run!”
Jon remained silent. He dismounted his horse, his face a mask of calm.
The men grinned. To them, the only way Jon might have escaped was by fleeing on horseback. They were on their foot and Jon might have escaped some distance away by the time they reached their horses. And would have they given a chase was also questionable.
And now, Jon had seemingly given up that chance. They assumed he would follow their command or beg for his life. A young boy without any sense of how things worked. They were so wrong.
Jon walked slowly toward them. When he was just a step away from the leader, he drew his sword with one smooth motion.
The glint of high-grade steel, caught the leader’s eye. Bandits like them rarely saw such quality, much less touched it.
He reached for the sword, greed lighting his expression. But before he could react, Jon’s blade flashed. The leader’s head fell cleanly from his shoulders.
Blood sprayed from the severed neck, and the body crumpled with a dull thud, spilling organs and flesh onto the road. He had not even known when he had died.
The other two men froze in shock, paralyzed by the brutal speed of the kill. They did not even see the speed of Jon’s arms much less react to it.
One still reeling from horror lunged forward, instinctively, with his sword outstretched, aiming for Jon’s chest.
Jon sidestepped. The blade narrowly missed his face. He grabbed the man's wrist, twisted and snapped the man’s bone. The man howled from pain but with one clean swing, Jon separated the second robber’s head from his body.
Two men, dead in less than two breaths.
The last one hesitated, terror flooding his face. He knew he stood no chance, but he also knew Jon would not let him flee.
Seeing no other option, he charged forward in desperation.
Jon dodged again. Lazily. Then, with a swift kick, he sent the man sprawling backward, tumbling across the dirt.
He walked up to the fallen robber and stamped his boot down on the man’s sword arm. There was a quite sound of bones cracking as the man screamed in agony. It was brutal from Jon.
Jon turned toward the girl. She backed away a few steps, visibly shaken.
“What is your name?” Jon asked, his voice calm but heavy and his eyes set on the girl.
“Sl… Slyvia,” she stammered.
Jon glanced at the three corpses. “Family?”
She shook her head. “I am an orphan. They were from my village. They said they had found work for me at a noble house in White Harbor. They said I could come too. They convinced me to join them.”
Her voice trembled and she continued. “But it was all a trap. They tried to sell me to these men. But the deal fell apart. The bandits were not willing to pay anything. It led to an argument and the bandits killed them.”
Jon nodded slowly, digesting the story.
“Do you want to live?” Jon asked, surprising the girl.
