It was just getting dark.
Morgan woke up from his sleep on time and opened his eyes.
"Huhu..."
The whine of the cold wind came from the gap in the unclosed window.
Since the winter rain fell a few days ago.
The weather in the entire winter resort town is getting colder day by day.
Morgan got up neatly and finished washing.
Standing in front of a poor quality glass mirror.
After a brief tidying up, I picked up the new mail armor at hand.
The dragon scale armor forged in Middle-earth from the scales of the dragon Smaug is still within his dimensional ring.
But in this world.
In this world where there are also dragons.
Given his status at this time, wearing dragon scale armor is still a bit ostentatious for the time being.
Although even if he wears it, no one may be able to recognize it.
But to avoid trouble, it is more appropriate to wear common mail armor.
Put on the heavy mail armor and hang up the elven sword.
Although this sword forged with the high elven civilization of Middle-earth is still exquisite and sharp.
Also somewhat conspicuous.
But compared to the dragon scale armor, this conspicuousness is nothing.
On the contrary, possessing an exquisite sword can actually show Morgan's extraordinary strength.
Then put on a black windproof and warm fur coat.
A cold aura that kept strangers away immediately emanated from Morgan.
Went down to the second floor.
When arriving at the tavern lobby.
There are already many people dining.
Winter has just arrived.
While the roads are not completely blocked by ice, this is the last opportunity to trade with Winterfell this year.
Businessmen from all over the world are busy at this time.
Morgan ordered a hearty breakfast at the bar as usual.
His food intake has always been proportional to his strength.
The food or energy intake per meal is at least several times that of an average adult man.
But being able to eat it doesn’t mean anything in any world.
Even the Nuandong Tavern has a lot to eat.
Just when Morgan chose the corner wine table by the window where he often sat these days in the hall and sat down.
Entrance to the second floor.
Three mercenary figures wearing leather armor, mail, and swords hanging from their waists, dressed similarly to Morgan, appeared.
Morgan sat down with a glass of wheat beer, glanced at the three "familiar" figures, and then turned to look at the falling snow outside the window.
But those three people obviously couldn't calm down about Morgan's appearance.
But this is Winterfell.
Although it is still only in the winter resort town in the outer city.
The three of them did not dare to cause trouble rashly, especially at a critical moment.
The three of them sneered with a hint of menace in their eyes, glanced at Morgan who was ignoring them in the corner, and quickly left the tavern.
Morgan looked at the leaving figures of the three mercenaries outside the window with a calm expression.
Just yesterday.
These three people suddenly approached Morgan uninvitedly while he was dining, wanting to get to know Morgan.
But within a few words of conversation, it was revealed that he hoped Morgan would give in during the selection and they would be grateful.
After hearing the other party's request, Morgan just looked at the three of them with cold eyes.
Then he ignored the three people.
This made one of the mercenaries who thought he had been in Winterfell for a long time immediately feel dissatisfied and angry.
He was just pressed down by the middle-aged man in charge.
After knowing the other party's intention, Morgan paid no attention to the three of them.
As long as they dare to take action.
Morgan wouldn't mind having the scene in White Harbor and the Black Apple Tavern repeated in Wintertown.
The three mercenaries were frustrated and left.
Naturally, he would not have a good look at Morgan at this time.
"Hello, guest..."
At this time, the maid brought sumptuous food to the table.
Morgan's mind immediately shifted from the window to the food.
finish breakfast.
When Morgan left the Warm Winter Tavern.
The sky outside is much brighter.
Braving the fluttering snowflakes and stepping on the snow covering the uppers of his shoes, Morgan quickly arrived at the small square.
I saw many mercenaries wearing mail armor like Morgan, with long swords hanging on their waists, or long bows on their backs, waiting in front of the wooden house in the small square.
Morgan saw the old man who registered him two days ago.
There were also four soldiers wearing armor, and a handsome young man who was slender and thin, with long brown-black hair, wearing leather armor and a gray robe.
At this time, the old registration man was holding a yellowed paper with his name written on it and was talking to the thin young man who was about to hang his sword.
Obviously, the young man took the lead in this incident.
Morgan looked at the young man carefully, but couldn't recognize who he was.
This is not surprising either.
He is not very familiar with this world, and has been in Middle-earth for more than sixty years.
If it weren't for the fact that memory keeps getting better with strength.
He may not remember anything about the world at all.
But what can be guessed is that the thin young man in front of him should be from the Stark family.
Several thoughts quickly ran through my mind.
Morgan tightened his black coat and walked steadily towards the square.
Arrive in front of the cabin.
Stand with a group of mercenaries who participated in the Stark family swordsman commission.
Morgan stood aside with a calm expression.
In the crowd, he saw the three mercenaries he had seen in the tavern not long ago.
At this time, the other party also saw Morgan.
Looking at the hostile looks cast by the three mercenaries.
Morgan just glanced at the three of them, and then at the other mercenaries participating in the selection, his eyes still calm and indifferent.
Didn't have to wait long.
Several more mercenaries arrived one after another.
The thin and handsome young man who had been waiting for a long time finally stood in front of a group of mercenaries.
"That's it."
"Those who have not arrived and are not punctual are not worthy of serving the Stark family..."
"Come all with me..."
The thin young man turned around and left after speaking with a slightly arrogant tone.
Four guards followed immediately.
A group of mercenaries who participated in the selection immediately followed behind.
Morgan followed the mercenary team and walked towards the inner city of Winterfell.
With the thin young man in front leading the way.
The soldiers responsible for guarding the inner city did not stop him at all.
Morgan followed the mercenary team through the taller and thicker inner city wall.
Finally stepped into the inner castle of Winterfell, which is the real Winterfell.
Tower, clock tower, square, garden, training ground, blacksmith shop, library, guard tower...
Just like other cities I have seen before.
Winterfell, the ancestral castle and seat of power of the Stark family, is known as the capital of the North.
The internal architecture is not much different from that of ordinary cities and towns.
Perhaps the biggest difference is that other cities serve an entire city of countless people.
Winterfell, on the other hand, is exclusively owned by the Stark family.
"This way..."
"Don't go the wrong way..."
The warning voice of soldiers came from the front.
Morgan followed behind, quietly surveying the surrounding environment of Winterfell.
Soon, he noticed that many soldiers and attendants were busy doing something around him.
Continue forward deeper into Winterfell.
Morgan soon saw a large number of servants in ordinary clothes working hard to clean both sides of the main road.
Obviously, there is something going on at Winterfell.
Morgan followed the team silently.
Finally, before arriving at the training ground for swordsman selection.
As Morgan passed by several busy attendants, he suddenly heard a conversation.
"Hey, I've been cleaning like this for three days..."
"I don't know when His Majesty the King will arrive?"
"It should be soon..."
"I saw that the kitchen was already preparing meat for the banquet..."
"..."
"The king comes to Winterfell..."
Morgan secretly chewed on the news he heard from the passing servant, and his eyes immediately narrowed slightly.
