Accompanied by an intense burning sensation, Jon felt his consciousness beginning to melt. Clearly, this was a symptom of overdosing.
Compared to the gradual process of taking small oral doses, applying topical ointments, and soaking in medicinal baths, he was basically power-leveling his drug intake. Even a Witcher would get poisoned doing this.
The scorching, expanding heat made Jon feel bloated and unbearable. He wanted to smash everything around him just to vent.
But the prompts ringing in his ears forced him to calm down.
[Ding-dong! Potion absorption complete. Strength +0.1...]
[Ding-dong! Potion absorption complete. Constitution +0.1...]
The continuous system notifications sounded like a chest of Gold Dragons being dumped out—clink, clink, clink, never-ending.
When the transmigrator regained his clarity and took back control of his body, he discovered that the stats on his panel had increased significantly.
> Name: Jon Snow
> Gender: Male
> Age: 16
> Strength: 1.6 (Bonus to damage and carry weight)
> Constitution: 1.6 (Related to stamina and agility)
> Spirit: 2 (Magic is everything)
> Title: Eddard's Bastard (False)
> Mission: Show your true self. Shine brilliantly in the presence of the King!
> Reward: Stay tuned...
Looking at the visible stat boost, Jon had no doubt that if he faced that malicious Riverrun guard again, he'd be able to knock the guy's teeth out.
But before he could finish patting himself on the back, a sharp pain shot from the back of his head straight to his skull.
[Detected that the Host is under attack. Intelligent Auto-Pilot has ended. We look forward to your 5-star review. Thank you, come again!]
Dropping this prompt, the previously chatty System instantly vanished, leaving Jon alone in the wind.
Then, the transmigrator stiffly turned his head and saw half of a broken clay pot in the attacker's hand.
As for the face, it was indeed that Riverrun guard.
Their eyes met, and they moved almost simultaneously. However, the guard was a beat slow in reaching for his waist, clearly surprised that Jon hadn't collapsed.
And so, the unfinished battle from the training yard resumed in an instant.
Only this time, the longswords were replaced by daggers of varying lengths, and the sparring match became a fight to the death.
A second later, with a dull metallic clash, Jon successfully knocked the enemy's dagger away.
But the guard, despite being a beat slow, swung a fist at Snow's chin, clearly not intending to go down without a fight.
In terms of combat experience, the young bastard was obviously less seasoned than the guard.
After taking two punches to the face, Jon finally managed to catch the man's fist. Meanwhile, his own wrist—the one holding the dagger—was clamped tight by the enemy, locking them in a silent contest of strength.
Looking at the enemy's twisted face, Jon knew that if not for those potions, his wrist would have likely been snapped by now, and he would have died quietly.
Fortunately, since neither of them wanted to expose their position, the struggle turned into a suppressed, seesawing grapple.
As time ticked by, a numbness began to crawl up his arm. Suddenly, Jon's eyes darted, and he cocked his chin back high.
Then, before the guard could react, the transmigrator's forehead expanded rapidly in his vision.
CRACK!
Jon's headbutt slammed down, shattering the man's nose instantly.
Then, just like he had practiced a thousand times, the dagger slipped past the armpit, through the ribs, and pierced straight into the heart and lungs.
Only then did the guard, who had been clutching his face in agony, suddenly stiffen before collapsing backward.
The raspy "Hkkk-hkkk" of his breath sounded like broken bellows, quickly fading as life left him.
Watching this scene, even though Jon had witnessed executions countless times, he still felt his legs go weak. It was a struggle just to stand.
Compared to those other transmigration predecessors who could slaughter armies without blinking at the slightest provocation, his performance was clearly lacking.
But after a moment of hesitation, he sprang into action.
First, the transmigrator grabbed a rug and covered his dagger with it. Only then did he slowly pull the weapon out.
Sure enough, as the blade left the wound, warm blood spurred out, but the rug absorbed it all.
In the next few breaths, Jon cleaned the blood off his dagger, then shoved the guard's own dagger back into the wound. He didn't forget to scan the room one last time.
Confirming he hadn't left anything behind, he slowly walked out of the tower and casually closed the door.
By the time he walked down the stairs, looking completely normal, and merged into the bustling banquet hall, almost no one had noticed he had ever been there.
It wasn't until the transmigrator returned to his room that he noticed the System panel and the annoying voice again.
[This session of Intelligent Auto-Pilot has ended. We look forward to your 5-star review. Thank you, come again!]
Seeing this prompt, Jon felt like he couldn't catch his breath.
"You damn rogue System, you have the nerve to ask for a good review?! One star! Definitely one star!"
Although he shouted loudly, he had to admit that the System's activation "reward"—especially the massive stat boost—had indirectly saved his life.
Combined with its previous chatty behavior, it was undeniably self-serving.
Therefore, unless the System bugged out again, crises like today's would likely continue.
However, even Jon didn't know if this threat came from Lady Catelyn's orders or if it was the spontaneous action of loyalists to Riverrun and Robb.
If it was the former, Jon actually wasn't afraid. No matter how you looked at it, Catelyn wasn't fundamentally different from her stupid and crazy sister—everything she did was on the surface.
But if it was the latter, that gave Jon a massive headache.
God only knew if these retainers scattered throughout Winterfell would continue to launch attacks from the shadows for the sake of their own futures.
And that was the scenario Jon feared most.
Aside from that, the more pressing crisis came from the guard who was now stone-cold dead.
Although Jon wanted to start a fire and burn all the evidence to ash, considering Robert was arriving tomorrow, doing so would only send everything spiraling into the unknown, completely deviating from the current trajectory.
Therefore, the transmigrator had to gamble. He had to bet that Winterfell would suppress the news for now.
Once the King left, Lord Eddard would go south to King's Landing, and he would go north to the Wall. The matter wouldn't be able to touch him then.
But just as Jon was feeling he had handled things well, a guard knocked on his door and delivered an order from Lord Eddard.
"The Lord has ordered you to report to Maester Luwin. Go now!"
Seeing the trout sigil on the guard's surcoat, Jon's heart sank instantly.