[Chapter Size: 4079 Words]

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Jon Snow POV

Icehill Farm, 289 AC, at the same moment.

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He could feel his soul almost leaving his body; it was terrifying for the boy.

‘I really came close to death in this moment,’ he exclaimed internally as he struggled to regain some breath.

Jon knew it was reckless, but he had no choices; he was late, his wolves wouldn’t arrive in time before everyone was dead. He knew he had committed the greatest madness of his life, not just connecting with the minds of 12 horses heading towards the farm; he forced them to throw themselves to the ground to stop the charge attack. Even feeling his death near, he didn’t give up, and while his pains and blood were evident, he forced them down, killing 2 of them in the process.

He couldn’t help but think that, for the first time in life, Jon had blood on his hands. Even though he killed indirectly, he was the cause of death. He had a bad taste in his mouth at this moment; with only 8 namedays, he killed for the first time, even if he wasn’t thrusting the tip of a weapon into another person’s flesh; he was the cause of death for those two men. But for him, it was either the bandits who lived or the family that took him in a few days ago.

Jon wouldn’t regret it; he would do anything to protect these people. As he looked at the twelve horses fleeing in all directions and the bandits struggling to get up or breathe, while he struggled internally, his thought was interrupted by his horse screaming in joy beside him, which now seemed a more intelligent creature after the connection with the boy.

This caught the attention of everyone here, and soon, a silence settled over the air of the farm. Jon wondered why the silence, repeating and taking his eyes off the horse, he turned to the battlefield.

The boy noticed that all the people were looking at him at this moment, be they friends or foes; all had complex looks. The bandits who noticed before the farmers perplexed with his situation knew that those poor men were not responsible for his terrible condition. But at this moment, they lit up with something else, had some idea, even without being able to explain how from what happened for their horses to go straight to the ground near the start of the attack, was related to that vision of the child with a lack of air and blood running down on a hill in the distance.

In everyone’s view, that child in his vision, who seemed to be dying on that small hill, made everyone have the same thought. As skeptical as the situation seemed, they knew that the boy was behind the fall of the horses. The farmers who had already seen the miracles of that boy had fewer doubts to believe otherwise, but still, it was a skill they never imagined from that boy.

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Sandu Rivers POV

Farm Icehill, 289 AC, at the same moment.

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Sandu was still immobile with his situation, so when he heard the sound of a horse neighing, standing out in all that chaos, the sound seemed as if it were celebrating and laughing at his misfortune. Following the sound of the horse, he saw in the distance, a little over 100 meters, a thin and ugly horse that he was sure belonged to this farm and a boy not older than 10, yet the child seemed like he was dying. The boy was short of breath, and he saw that there was constant bleeding from his nose. He noticed, despite being a little distant from him, that anyone looking at this child would say that it was a lost cause, but he somehow knew that the boy caused that disaster with him; this boy had to be some kind of sorcerer for that, and he wanted to get revenge on this being.

He thought about the revenge he would take on the boy later; he couldn’t let the boy die just yet. He wanted to make the boy pay for such humiliation, torturing that child later.

Without wasting more time in that silence, knowing that whatever that child did, he almost died in the process, he was sure there wouldn’t be a second time. He had 3 men out of action, but they were still 9 against 5 farmers; from his experience, 2 of them could end all 5. Still having numerical advantage, even with some men feeling a lot of pain from that fall, he issued one more order without hesitation.

“LET’S GO, YOU PUSSIES! WE LOST OUR HORSES, BUT WE’RE 9 AGAINST 5 CHICKENS. LET’S KILL THESE WEAKLINGS AND THEN AVENGE THE NEARLY DEAD BOY!” He shouted, knowing that everyone had the same thought as him. They quickly got up and ran towards the farmers’ barricade.

Sandu noticed that the boy made a great effort to get up and go to the horse at that distance. Thinking the boy would escape, he grunted with anger, as he couldn’t allow the boy to flee. He had to finish off the farmers quickly and go after the child. Focusing on his goal ahead before hunting the boy, he took his eyes off the boy and ran directly to the farmers as if the world depended on it.

At 50 meters from the barricade, he heard a whistling sound tearing through the air. Sandu then noticed an object pass by him and saw one of his men from the left, who was a little behind, screaming in terror after being hit by an arrow in the neck. He slowed down in alert; it wasn’t the farmers who had launched that arrow. He turned his gaze to the hill and saw that the boy’s horse hadn’t gone away, but he saw something that enraged him even more than the boy simply leaving. Not only did the boy humiliate him by throwing him to the ground with his men, but now he was killing his men with a bow from a considerable distance.

Besides that, he found himself wondering how an 8-year-old boy hit his man with an arrow in the neck, and it was a distance of 80 meters; only a well-trained archer could do that. Sandu knew there were people who did this at a distance of 100 meters, but a child doing this, something that not even he and his men could do? Even with a lot of luck, as it depended heavily on the wind to do something like that, it was unbelievable for this child to do such a thing. He shuddered at this thought; he still had 50 meters to run, not much distance, but how many would fall before reaching the farmers? Their bows were on the horses that fled and were in open field. The sensible thing would be to retreat to recover the horses and return with the bows, but the anger of humiliation clouded his thoughts, and Sandu with his men continued to run for their prey with hatred in their eyes. He didn’t know, but Jon was using wind magic in small amounts so that the arrow wouldn’t be affected by the wind, which would lose speed and precision. Sandu saw the boy aim his second arrow in the air and shoot, this made them slow down even more with the alarm, as no one wanted to die by an arrow in this damn place. The arrow whizzed through the air, but none of my men were hit, as the arrow missed and fell a few meters from them. The boy was good, he had to admit, to have that skill with the bow even at such a young age, not to mention that witchcraft with the horses, but his bright future ends here; I will make sure to kill him here and today.

While lost in thought, the air whistled once again, and a third arrow hit the man behind him.

‘DAMN, I expected to end this losing only 1 of the men or none to the farmers, and now I’m down five men, four dead and one incapacitated, all caused by a boy who barely left his mother’s breasts!’ He shouted internally in frustration. He saw the situation and said without more hesitation.

“ABE! GIO! GRAB YOUR SHIELDS AND KILL THAT BOY NOW!” He shouted to the only men who had the wooden shield. Sandu wanted to kill the boy himself, but at the cost of his men’s lives? He knew they were scum like him, and Sandu himself had already killed several men from his group. However, having less manpower meant more work for him, and these men still obeyed his orders. Sandu had a shield too, protecting his front, but he would be there to protect the rest of the group. He already lost too much and hasn’t killed anyone yet; he needs to end this as soon as possible.

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Jon Snow POV

Farm Icehill, 289 AC, at the same moment.

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Two men emerged from the group of bandits running and came southeast where he was on the hill. He had come from the East but circled to the south to reach a high point, strategically closer to his targets, about 30 meters from his friends on the farm. Here on the hill, he had a very good height to shoot arrows.

Jon was still pale and dizzy, making every effort not to faint after the excessive use of his powers on the horses. Getting into the minds of animals was one thing, but commanding and controlling them forcibly would make the boy feel even more the weight of his powers.

When he saw the men running toward him, he knew he needed to keep delaying them before they killed anyone from the farm. He knew he could die here today, but he was following his own will. He cared about these people and wanted to defend this farm. He knew he still had a small chance for that; he had the wolves coming at the maximum speed their legs could manage. This was his key to victory.

So, with the determination needed to delay the enemies, even though he had no idea when his animals would arrive due to mental exhaustion, he couldn’t control his powers to know where the wolves were at this moment. If he tried, he would faint before even reaching any wolf.

He was already making a great effort to stay conscious; now, he needed to focus on what he could do to slow down these bandits. Little Jon aimed, not at the soldiers who were 60 meters away heading his way, but at the vanguard force with 5 men.

Jon aimed at the enemies as he raised his bow with the arrow; he pulled the string until he had enough strength to hit them in motion and breathed as calmly as he could.

He still couldn’t believe he hit a target at 80 meters, even using his wind magic so that his arrows wouldn’t be affected by the air currents and being 10 meters above the targets to increase the distance of the shots. In his mind, it still seemed impossible even after having done it a few moments ago.

In Winterfell, Theon Greyjoy was the best among the youth in archery; Robb was always the weakest, hitting his target at 10 meters, Jon could do it at 15 meters, but he never showed to be better than Robb in public. Greyjoy had a surprising talent hitting 30m; even at 11 days, he was recognized throughout the castle for his skill.

Now an 8-day Jon was killing men at 80m and with his targets in motion. His arrows weren’t affected by the wind, but still, it was very surreal. He realized it wasn’t just information, Warg magic, some elemental magics like producing flame in the hand, making an object immune to the wind, or his great power in relation to nature that he received from the heart tree, that knew whatever came from that tree when he touched his hand was deeper than he knew.

He thought this because he felt it in the weapons; he noticed that he gained momentum in fencing and now realized that in archery it was the same case. Even though it was a desperate move to shoot from that distance, even though a part of his mind said it was impossible for him, Jon still felt a certain confidence in the bow to do it here.

No wonder Lucas said he would be incomparable once he gained a body and grew. Jon greatly appreciated these compliments, as it was an honor for a humble bastard like him. But Jon would think about these abilities another time; now, he would have to save these people and get out of here alive.

Jon launched his fourth arrow but missed. It was still very difficult to shoot at the vanguard. The bandits in the group were 60 meters away from him and 30 meters from the farmers. The two coming toward him had shields to protect themselves from his arrows. He ignored them for a moment and quickly shot another arrow at the group heading toward his friends. However, his fifth arrow hit the leader’s shield, making the man look mockingly at him at that moment.

Jon gritted his teeth in frustration. He was still doing his best effort for his mind not to darken, even though it screamed at him that he wouldn’t last long. Only his effort and the adrenaline of battle kept him conscious, grabbing the sixth arrow and aiming and releasing. He noticed that the two men were 50 meters away from him; the vanguard group 20 meters from the farmers. He soon saw that his arrow hit another bandit through an opening in the shield, hitting his chest. The one who seemed to be the leader didn’t have that gleam in his eyes and wasn’t at all pleased with his group dying before his eyes.

“DAMN IT, ABE! DAMN IT, GIO! KILL THAT BOY BEFORE WE ALL DIE, DAMN IT!!!!” Jon could see all the anger of the group turned towards him; however, he managed to give the farmers an advantage; it was now 4 bandits against 5 of his friends with Lucas and the others on our side.

Taking his eyes off them for the first time and paying attention to his attackers, he only hoped that his friends would survive until the end. Now, concentrating his sight on his aggressors at 40 meters running at full speed with their shields, he quickly grabbed an arrow and aimed at the nearest one who raised his shield and blocked the arrow. They were closing in, and Jon was starting to get more nervous.

The boy grabbed another arrow, trembling when they were 20 meters away from him. He aimed at the same target as before, but knowing about his last failure, he had to do things differently. Trying his best to concentrate and not tremble, he aimed at an area not protected by the shield and released the arrow, hitting the left leg of the nearest target. It wouldn’t be fatal, but at least it would take the man out of the fight. This resulted in the man falling to the ground while cursing the boy with all sorts of profanity. The second man was startled by his companion falling but continued up the hill cautiously, knowing that hesitation in front of an archer would result in his death if he gave the boy time to grab a new arrow.

Jon, ready to take the second one with the same trick, felt that the arrows were no longer there. Then despair took hold of the boy at this moment.

He had been so nervous during the battle that he forgot to count his arrows. Now his arrows were gone, and he didn’t have time to reach the small sword that was on the horse, which was at a distance of 10 meters from him. The man was already 5 meters away from him, running at full speed. The boy couldn’t help but think that he couldn’t survive this now, but still, he would fight.

“Dying in battle is better than dying like a coward,” he thought nervously.

Jon saw the man raising his sword toward him. With no time and in despair, he had to use the bow to defend himself. The impact made the bow break the moment the sword hit, almost making the blade hit Jon. Even though his weapon broke in half, it prevented him from being cut by the

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH, GET AWAY FROM ME, YOU DEMON!” The man could only scream as Caraxes scratched his entire face with its claws. He could only walk backward, trying to cut the air with his sword to push the bird away. Jon barely breathed and saw the man with his face in a sorry state after the moment of struggle, and Caraxes let him go. His winged friend was the size of a normal eagle, and its claws were no different.

All that remained on that man was an eye and the left cheek, because the rest was cut and bleeding. It was a horrible sight. The bandit was desperate, shouting that he would kill Jon along with Caraxes, while his companion was on the ground with an arrow embedded in his leg, witnessing all of this with great fear.

“THE BOY IS A DEMON, WE’RE ALL GOING TO DIE HERE!!” He shouted in despair and began to try to flee from this place as quickly as possible, still limping. The bandit with the cut face didn’t scream anymore because, to Jon’s surprise, the farm horse that accompanied him ran toward him. Turning quickly in 180 degrees, the horse kicked the bandit, hitting a large rock on the hill, falling with his head. Whether he became unconscious or died from the impact, Jon still didn’t know, but he was concerned with other things after his near-death experience.

Jon, even in his sorry state, felt loved by these animals. He didn’t even use any ability to control their actions; they acted on their own and were able to protect him.

He stood up to see the situation with the farmers in the hope of not being too late. He saw that one of his friends was lying on the ground, and that made his heart ache. Most were bleeding, but the outlaw group didn’t kill them immediately. They were more playing with them with hatred to make them suffer for all the damage the group had suffered today.

The boy ignored the limping bandit heading for the forest who was fleeing and stumbled to the horse, mounting quickly with a lot of effort. He took the sword that was stuck in the saddle; it was quite short, but for an 8-day-old boy, it was adequate if it weren’t so heavy.

While Jon was mounting the horse, the bandits thought the same was already dead after being hit by the shield, and that was their mistake because they didn’t even look at the hill a second time, nor did they realize when Jon was coming in their direction on horseback.

Approaching the closest of them, who was playing and laughing with his opponent, only noticed him when the horse was on top of him. He only shouted when he saw the boy jumping off the horse while thrusting the sword with the force of the momentum into the man, who didn’t even have time to react, just shouting in surprise and pain.

Jon and the bandit went to the ground, soaking the boy with the enemy’s blood. He groaned immediately with more pain from the impact; his body was at its limit since he left with the horse to the east.

Soon, the last three bandits noticed him, a few meters away, and their companion trying to scream with a sword buried in his throat. Unfortunately for them, the boy no longer had the strength to even lift his weapon. All his body pleaded for him to simply give up. His mind was still making the greatest effort to continue fighting; there were only three bandits left, but unfortunately, all four conscious farmers were injured.

Jon was so tired from the fight that he couldn’t even lift his body, with an almost lifeless look, kneeling. He still raised his sword with some effort upward, but in his current state, it was futile. The man whom the boy identified as the leader approached him, red with anger, saying as he raised his weapon,

“I WILL KILL THE BOY PERSONALLY, AND NO ONE INTERFERE. I MUST ADMIT I’VE NEVER SEEN ANYTHING LIKE YOU BEFORE. WE WERE 12 MEN WHEN WE ENTERED THIS FIELD, NOW I ONLY SEE 3 OF THEM. A BOY WHO IS NOT EVEN 10 DAYS OLD KILLED ALMOST THE ENTIRE BANDIT GROUP. I’LL TELL YOU WHAT THIS BOY IS. HE’S A DEMON. THIS IS A DEMON. NOW DIE, DEMO…”

“WHAT IS THIS!? AHHHHH!!!”

When Jon knew he was going to die, and the bandit was about to lower his weapon to kill him, something stopped him. It wasn’t Caraxes who saved him this time; the bird was descending from the sky at full speed, but it was far away, even though it was trying to get to the location in time. It was Shadow, the wolf as dark as jet, who jumped on the bandit leader, throwing him to the ground directly. While the man began to scream in desperation, Shadow mutilated him, and the same happened to the other two bandits who were a few meters away. Two more giant wolves, Sun and Grass, jumped on them and killed them, devouring them, without giving them time to react.

The boy was another one who couldn’t react because he was so tired. He only internally thanked that his giant wolves arrived in time and managed to save him somehow.

After their mouths were filled with the enemy’s blood, the last she-wolf he hadn’t seen, who was pregnant, Tempest, appeared with the body of the bandit that Jon hit with an arrow and had fled in fear. He noticed that it wasn’t much different from the mutilation of his companions. Jon could only smile in relief at that; it was finally over.

He turned his head to see the states of the farmers who were trembling in fear at this moment as they looked at those fierce creatures, with unbelieving and fearful looks. Jon never told them about their existence so as not to scare them. However, he now needed his 4 furry friends at this moment so that he and these farmers could survive; otherwise, they would be dead by now.

Jon noticed that Lucas was not among those standing paralyzed by the presence of the giant wolves. The boy looked at the body on the ground and was heartbroken; he knew it was Lucas, but he felt a small amount of life in Lucas still. Jon, with the strength lacking in his body, somehow staggered to his body, and the wolves followed him. The farmers, even injured, could only make way as quickly as possible for the 4 creatures the size of a horse.

Jon turned the body face down to see the wounds and saw the cut on the chest. He needed to do something with his magic, and Caraxes quickly protested in his mind about what he was ready to do; his bird felt his emotions, like the strong bond, knowing that the boy had already risked too much and making more effort would be a danger to his life again. But Jon ignored him and pressed his hand against the cut; he had another cut on his leg, but it wasn’t fatal. He needed all his energy to heal the deep cut in the chest, realizing that Lucas’s life was weakening every second, he had no time to lose. His hands glowed in a green light; all humans choked on the healing magic; wolves and horse had admiration in their gaze, but Caraxes was trying to convey through his bird protests that whatever Jon was doing, it was madness. Even so, he continued trying to heal Lucas until he lost consciousness…

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep