reincarnated in GOT with a down graded Cheat engine.

As morning came, the sun rising low behind the fog-washed trees of the Neck, Levi arrived at the training grounds rearing a small horse that pulled a wagon behind it. The wagon creaked and rattled as it rolled over the damp path.

The twenty young men, already gathered and stretching in the field, turned with confusion. Murmurs spread. Jory tilted his head. Arl squinted and muttered, "What's he hauling now?"

But then they saw it Levi was clad in armor. Not just chainmail. Not just leather. A mix of both, crafted and blended. The sunlight glinted off the rings at his shoulders, while the hardened leather covered his chest and arms like scales.

Kell let out a whistle. "Look at him. Full armor already?"

Levi slid off the horse, his boots sinking slightly into the damp earth. He turned toward them with a wide grin.

"Well? What are you all staring at? Come get your chain-leathered armor."

The boys surged forward, crowding the wagon with excitement. Inside were stacks of the hybrid armor layered, stitched, and shining faintly. Each one was roughly fitted to a young man's size. Some grabbed theirs immediately, others hesitated, examining the strange make.

Jory held his up with a grin. "This... this is real."

Even Munty raised a brow as he silently shrugged his set over his tunic.

Some of the boys helped each other strap on arm-guards and adjust belts. Lyle muttered quiet suggestions on tightening buckles. Arl fumbled his breastpiece backward before Kell helped him spin it around with a laugh.

The peaceful moment didn't last.

From across the field came the bark of a voice. "Enough of that."

The group froze.

Ser Sedge had arrived. He walked into the field with a look of mild irritation, hands behind his back. His eyes swept across the twenty-one youths in their mismatched armor.

He let out a slow breath.

"Trying to wear armor like fools," he muttered, loud enough for them all to hear. "You're not knights. Some of you can't even hold your weight in a spear line. And now you want to start the day by weighing yourselves down?"

He stepped to the center of the field.

"If you want to carry extra weight and exhaust yourselves before training even begins, go ahead. But training starts now, armor or not. Your call."

Levi hesitated.

He removed his armor.

A few others did the same, stripping the layers quickly, sweat already forming on brows from the mere effort of wearing them. But some like Munty and two of Arl's crew kept their armor on, defiantly or perhaps foolishly.

The session began.

Ser Sedge carried no spear today. Instead, he held a wooden sword a blunt training blade. At his side were two crates, which he kicked open to reveal more wooden swords.

"Take one," he ordered. "And remember what you've learned about spacing and balance stays with you. But spears and swords are not the same. A sword requires you to be close. Uncomfortably close."

Levi stepped forward and picked up a wooden blade. When the others followed, the sound of wood shifting and boys murmuring filled the morning air.

Ser Sedge stood at the front.

"We begin with the stance. Feet shoulder-width. Knees bent. Blade forward not too high, not too low. Keep your balance. That sword drags you forward or back, you'll fall into a real blade one day."

They practiced the basics. Holding the sword. Moving forward with it. Stepping back. Not tripping.

Then came the strikes. Not wild swings, but focused cuts. Diagonal. Straight. Short thrusts.

The first hours were hard. The boys sweated under the sun. Arms ached. Hands blistered. Those in armor began to falter, fatigue setting in far too quickly. Munty finally stripped his armor by midday, breathing heavy. Levi shot him a glance but said nothing.

By the time they broke for a meal stew and hard bread provided by the kitchens few had the energy to speak. They ate in silence, breathless and sore.

After the meal, Ser Sedge introduced footwork drills.

"A blade means nothing if you can't move with it," he said. "You need to learn to walk again, but this time with a weapon in hand."

Forward. Back. Left pivot. Right sidestep. It was like learning to dance with invisible blades all around them. Some stumbled. Others lost grip of their swords. Ser Sedge barked corrections without pause.

As the sun lowered behind the treeline, Ser Sedge finally raised his hand.

"Enough for today. Drop your swords. Clean up."

The wooden blades hit the earth in staggered thumps.

Levi leaned on his knees, panting. Sweat rolled down his face. His hands trembled.

Jory sat flat on the ground and groaned. "Spears were easier."

Kell chuckled, equally exhausted. "Only because we didn't have to chase ghosts with them."

Lyle said nothing, just rubbed his sore wrist.

Levi looked around at his friends all of them drenched in sweat, some bruised already, others blinking tiredly and felt something tighten in his chest.

It wasn't pride. Not yet.

But it was something like it.

Day one had ended.

And tomorrow, they would begin again.