Balls deep in Ros, clamped from all sides by her shuddering walls, continuously creaming on him, Wylis froze in place. Despite the red-haired beauty, her fantastic tits bare right there, he stared into empty space—the three choices.
[Choice 1: Earthbending
Choice 2: Metalbending
Choice 3: Sandbending]
What is this?
Sure, he recognised those words. Although it had been a little more than four years since he arrived in that world, the memories of the past life were completely intact. And by now he simply believed that this was all real.
Earthbending?
It was a power that let one manipulate dirt, stones, the very earth. The other two were also self-explanatory. But Wylis knew that Earthbending was the most useful of them all. While Metalbending could help in battles and forging, that was it. Sandbending was even more useless. But Earthbending could be used to create and destroy structures, or maybe trip an entire cavalry charge.
Wait, is this even real?
He quickly picked the Earthbending option, or rather thought about it with the intent to pick it.
[Earthbending Choice Taken!]
[The Tyrant's Squire is Updated.]
[The Tyrant's Squire Activated - Welcome to the first step towards the path of a Tyrant]
[Strength - Might require murder! Defeat foes stronger than you and grow.
Wealth - Might alone isn't enough. Complete Quests for clues towards greater wealth.
Legacy(Unlocked) (Trueborn & Bastards) - A Tyrant is born not from name but fame. Spread the name and the seed, Trueborns or Bastards.
-> Trueborn - Each Trueborn adds 5 years to lifespan and unwavering loyalty.
-> Bastards - Each Bastard adds 1 year to lifespan and unwavering loyalty.
Shop - A Tyrant needs resources, and resources have a price. The price is life—lifespan.
Quest - Rise from the lowest. Become a Squire.
Goal - Empires of Crassus and Rockefeller fell. Their names, mere words in books. Build a name and legacy that'll stand the test of time.
Current Status - Forgettable Pest (Legacy Duration - 3 Years)]
What in the—
Wylis froze, almost overwhelmed by the amount of information that came out of nowhere. His hips stopped moving, too engrossed in the fantastical, magical thing.
BAM! BAM! BAM!
Just then, loud knocks resounded on the door.
"WYLIS! You horny bastard! Open the fucking door! I know you're in there!"
Fuck! Wylis woke up from the stupor right away and pulled out of Ros' scorching hot walls. She was still a whimpering mess, drenched in her release. Sadly, he'd remained unsatisfied.
"WYLIS!" The loud, feminine but raspy voice continued to echo from outside. "I swear, if you don't open the door, I'll break it!"
"Tsk… The bitch's here." Wylis sighed and quickly slipped his clothes back on and took out some silver coins from his pouch. "Apologies, Ros, but I must take my leave. Maybe I'll come back again someday."
With a sigh, Ros sat back up, giggling. Her big eyes looked up sultrily at Wylis' body, and his face. She already knew he was possibly the tallest, the strongest, and among the most handsome customers she'd ever get in her life.
"Yes, we were only beginning," Ros said and only picked one single coin from his palm. "This will suffice. It's not often men can make me feel... such pleasure. I felt as if I were the one paying, not the one being paid."
Wait, am I the whore then?
Awkwardly, Wylis placed the remaining coins back in his pocket and walked towards the door.
"WYLIS! OP—"
Creak!
Wylis slung the door open and stared at his closest friend and also the bane of his existence. Long brown hair, slim as a dancer, big grey eyes with those thin brows frowning, expressions intense with that small pout. Her arms were crossed and she didn't budge even after the door opened.
"Move," Wylis said.
Lyanna Stark sneered, looking up at him. While most men and women in Winterfell feared Wylis for his height, Lyanna was the opposite. She was far too brash and casual around him. Despite only reaching the middle of his chest, she glared up. "What were you doing?"
Wylis smirked and shrugged. "It's nothing. Only came to ask Ros for the recipe for a fine pie."
Pat!
Lyanna smacked her fist into his chest. "I specifically told you not to do this. Seriously? Whores?"
Wylis scoffed and in return, raised his hand to her head and using two meaty fingers, flicked at the center of her pale forehead, burning a red mark there.
"Ah!" Lyanna stumbled back, clutching her forehead. She hated it whenever Wylis did that.
"Lyanna, I'm eight and ten, and I have fucking needs—literally. The last time I tried with the innkeeper's daughter, you barged in. And then with the farmer's widow—I'm a man, for gods' sake. You can't be cockblocking me like this all the time."
Lyanna's cheeks flushed at Wylis' bluntness, but she was still the proud, the famous Lyanna Stark. "Still, you shouldn't. You'll be one of the finest knights in Westeros—save yourself for some sweet maiden, not some common whore. Don't turn out like Robert, chasing after anything with a pulse."
"Ah, here we go again, talking about Robert." Wylis rolled his eyes and started walking. "At this point, you may as well just give in to the betrothal. Lord Stark's not about to change his mind."
"So what?" Lyanna sneered and chased after Wylis, soon walking side by side, looking odd in the Winter Town. "I know exactly what kind of man Robert is. How could my father do this to me? He sold me to some filthy whoremonger. Was that all I ever was to him? A pawn? What happened to all those sweet words, to the doting? Calling me princess like it meant something. You know what... never mind. Not here."
Lyanna grabbed Wylis' arm and pulled him along to move faster. Quickly, she brought him back into the Winterfell castle, and then into Godswood. Finally, in front of the ancient Weirwood tree with a creepy smiling face, she sat down.
"I've heard whispers," Lyanna said, her voice low. "Robert's already fathered a bastard in the Vale."
To be honest, Wylis wasn't as attentive to her words. Nothing she said was new or surprising. What he wanted was to be left alone so he could check what all that Tyrant's Squire thing was about. Did he really gain Earthbending?
"Not that unexpected," Wylis murmured without thinking. He also went ahead and sat down beside her, leaning his back against the tree. Although the face on it was creepy, he somehow felt calm near it.
"We have no choice, Wylis. We must find a way to break this betrothal."
Wylis frowned at her words. "'We' you say? As far as I'm concerned, I'm still mucking out stables, not wearing fine silks. I can't even believe Lord Stark lets you dance around me."
"Who's dancing?" She scoffed, but made no move to leave his side. She had few friends in Winterfell, and Wylis was the only one who'd ever stood by her. He'd pulled her out of more tavern brawls and messes than she could count. "Sure, a stableboy who can best the best of men. I don't get Father... He should have made you his squire long ago."
Stableboy, ha? Four years and still no change. Wylis remembered the Quest. He needed to become a squire quickly. Being 18 already, he was already a few years late. Lord Stark doesn't seem to care about me at all.
"Well, there's always the option to find a better man than Robert, both in name, fame, honor, and status, and seduce him. As for Lord Stark, I'd say he's only trying to build stronger bonds with the South. It's likely why Brandon's betrothed to that Tully girl." He suggested, and he didn't even need advance knowledge to say that. Winter Town was filled with gossip about Lord Stark and his southern ambitions.
Lyanna fell into deep thought, humming to herself. She folded her knees closer to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, resting her chin above while looking in the distance.
Silently, Wylis glanced at her slender frame. Her furious, worried expressions. She was by every means beautiful. But not many saw her that way as her loudness, desire for adventure, and unladylike actions outweighed femininity. And in that world, men usually prefer feminine women. Not in his eyes, though. But he didn't hold much romantic interest towards her. And he was in no position to meddle in her life without losing his head.
What the heck was so good about that white haired guy? I guess I'll know soon.
"No matter how I look at it, there's no man worth more than Robert. He's to be Lord Paramount of the Stormlands. What choice do I have but to be given to him?" Lyanna dejectedly said, the fire in her heart to avoid the betrothal slowly dimmed. "I suppose I'll be bound to him in the end, just another pawn in Father's games."
There was nothing Wylis could do at the moment. He had no money, no influence. "Sometime's life's like horse shit—no matter how much you shovel, there's always more waiting. You just have to accept it in the end."
"Pfft—So reassuring, comparing my life to horseshit." Lyanna chuckled and looked at Wylis' face. "Maybe you should leave too, Wylis. You should've been knighted by now, yet here you are, shoveling horseshit. Maybe you should go South and try your luck."
Wylis shook his head, remembering how the Cleganes lived as Lannister dogs. "And become some crazy Lord's pet? No, I very much like the freedom I have in Winterfell."
Lyanna let out a sharp sigh as she rose to her feet, brushing off the dirt from her back. Stretching her arms above her head, she yawned, the thought of Robert weighing on her. "If I'm to marry him, I'll make his life miserable. He can dream of winning me, but he'll never truly have m… Wait... That's it! He'll never have the pleasure he craves. Wylis, I know how you can help me!"
I don't like the sound of that.
Over the past four years, he'd seen Lyanna come up with ideas. None of them were ever good.
Eyes filled with suspicion, he nodded. "And that is?"
"Shag me!"
"..."
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