Solo Leveling in Westeros

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The night was calm, Winterfell bathed in the cold silver glow of the moon. Aeron walked through the quiet courtyard, his breath visible in the crisp air. The torches along the walls flickered against the stone, casting long shadows. He moved without purpose, simply letting his thoughts wander, his gaze shifting over the castle that had stood for thousands of years. 

His eyes lingered on the figures in the distance—children, but important ones. Rickon, barely more than a babe, stumbling along with his direwolf, Shaggydog. Bran, crippled, sitting on the steps with his wolf at his side. Even the exile, Theon Greyjoy, laughing too loud near a fire. These were the players of a story he already knew. 

Aeron exhaled slowly.' Should I warn Robb? he wondered. Would he believe a stranger? A lowborn with no name, no house?' 

Politics in this world was dangerous. The game of thrones swallowed men whole, and Aeron had no intention of playing for someone else. 

Beside him, Raya's voice broke through his thoughts. "You've been quiet for a while," she said, her piercing northern accent softer than usual. "Something on your mind?" 

Aeron turned to her. "Yes, but—" 

He stopped. 

Something was wrong. 

A person was missing. 

His eyes scanned the guards stationed nearby, the ones who had traveled with him from Bear Island. One was gone. 

His gut twisted. In a place like Winterfell, a man disappearing in the dead of night meant only one thing. 

Aeron turned to Raya, his expression unreadable. "Have you seen him?" 

She frowned. "No. Why?" 

His answer was a single word. "Garm." 

The shadows beneath him stirred, the ink-like darkness shifting as something enormous rose from its depths. Garm, his towering direwolf, materialized silently, his eyes glowing like burning coals. The beast stretched, his black fur rippling like smoke, before lowering his head in waiting. 

Aeron placed a hand on Garm's massive head. "Find him." 

The wolf gave a deep, rumbling growl before vanishing into the night. He was fast faster than any normal beast moving like a ghost between the trees, unseen and unheard. 

Raya shivered beside him, watching the display in silence. She still wasn't used to it, the things she had seen Aeron do. 

The wait didn't last long. Garm returned within hours, stepping into the light of the torches, his massive form casting a terrifying silhouette against the walls of Winterfell. 

Aeron smiled at what he saw. 

Hanging from Garm's maw, clutched between dagger-like teeth, was a severed head—its face twisted in shock, its eyes still open in death. 

Raya recoiled, her breath catching in her throat. "Seven hells…" 

Aeron reached out, gripping the dead man's hair, lifting the head to inspect it. 'So that's where you were going…' 

He chuckled darkly and looked into the lifeless eyes. "Good job, Garm," he murmured. Then, shifting his gaze back to the night, his expression hardened. 

"The bastard was heading south.." 

Aeron let the severed head to Garm to finish off. His expression was unreadable as he stared down at the snowy floor, his mind already working through the implications. 

"This is my mistake," he muttered to himself, his voice low, almost begrudging. "I can't be sure he didn't speak to someone before I found him. Should it matter? I don't know… but I can't take that risk." 

The flickering torchlight cast shifting shadows across his face, his purple eyes reflecting something deeper—calculation, resolve. 

He exhaled slowly. "I know where to go now." 

Raya, still shaken, looked at him in confusion. "What do you mean? Go where?" 

Aeron turned away, his gaze lifting toward the distant, unseen North. He wasn't concerned with the war, with banners rising and falling. That was the struggle of men. But beyond the Wall, there was something else something far older, something unnatural. 

"I couldn't care less for the war at the moment," he said, his tone firm. "My army is small… but an invincible one. And in the North, beyond the Wall, there is another like me. A foe made of ice and death." 

His fingers tightened around the hilt of his sword. "I'll head there." 

**** 

Morning came draped in a cold mist, the kind that clung to the skin and seeped into the bones. Aeron had planned to slip away quietly, unnoticed, before the weight of Winterfell's hospitality could tie him down. But fate, it seemed, had other plans. 

As he made his way through the courtyard, adjusting the straps of his sword belt, his sharp eyes caught sight of a man clad in black. The worn leather and faded wool marked him immediately—a brother of the Night's Watch. The man stood tall but weary, his face lined with hardship. He spoke urgently with Robb Stark, who listened intently, his expression unreadable. 

Aeron didn't hesitate. He approached, his footsteps light but deliberate. 

"...you ask for reinforcements?" he said, cutting through their conversation as he came to stand beside them. 

The man of the Watch turned to him, studying him warily. Robb, on the other hand, was taken aback. His brows furrowed. "Aye," he answered, glancing back at the black-cloaked man. "There have been… troubling reports from the Wall. This man brings word from Lord Commander Mormont himself. He requests men from the North." 

Aeron nodded, absorbing the information. Then, casually, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, he spoke: 

"Let me go with him." 

Silence. 

Robb stared at him, stunned. "What?" 

The man of the Night's Watch blinked, clearly not expecting that response either. "You wish to accompany me? Do you understand where it is I go?" 

Aeron smirked. "The Wall. Beyond it, even. That's my destination." 

Robb's expression darkened slightly, as if he were trying to decipher a riddle. He exchanged glances with his guards before focusing back on Aeron. "You do realize men don't choose to go to the Wall unless they have no other choice, right? And even fewer would willingly go beyond it." 

Aeron simply shrugged. "And yet, here I am." 

The man in black regarded him with a mix of suspicion and curiosity. "You wish to take the black, then?" 

Aeron chuckled. "No, I have no interest in swearing oaths." His voice held an amused edge. "But I do have my own reasons for heading North. So I ask again let me travel with you." 

Robb folded his arms, studying him for a long moment. He was trying to make sense of this man before him, this lowborn fighter who Mormont himself trusted, who had bested an entire raider crew and walked Winterfell's halls with quiet confidence. He wasn't sure what game Aeron was playing, but he knew one thing he wasn't dealing with an ordinary man. 

Finally, Robb let out a breath and shook his head with a slight smirk. "I won't pretend to understand why you'd want to freeze your arse off beyond the Wall, but… if you truly wish to go, I won't stop you." His expression grew more serious. "Just know this, Aeron whatever dangers you think you'll find out there, the truth is worse." 

Aeron simply smiled. "Good. Then I suppose I'll see for myself." 

**** 

Aeron's skin as he stood near the stables, his gaze locked onto Raya, who looked at him with suspicion. he was planning something. Something she wouldn't like. 

"You're leaving," she stated flatly, crossing her arms. 

Aeron sighed. "I have to." 

Raya scoffed. "Why am I not surprised? And let me guess, you want me to stay behind, don't you?" 

He nodded. "Winter is coming, and so is war. The entire realm is going to become a battleground, and I know what the future holds. If you come with me, I can't promise your safety in the far north" 

Raya's glare was sharp. "And what makes you think I care about safety? I chose to follow you, Aeron. Not because I had to, but because I wanted to." 

Aeron exhaled slowly, stepping closer. "And I won't let you throw that away. If you stay in Winterfell, you'll have a safe place. Here, you can prove yourself, make connections, and keep me informed. But if you come with me beyond the Wall… you might never return." 

She clenched her fists, frustration clear on her face. "And what about you?" 

Aeron smirked. "I'm not planning on dying, if that's what you're asking." He placed a hand on her shoulder, his voice softening. "Trust me. I'll be back. I just need to get something from beyond the Wall, and by the time I return, Winterfell will probably be a different place. A hostile one, But you'll be safe." 

Raya hesitated, searching his face for any deception. "You promise?" 

"I do." 

She looked away, biting her lip, then exhaled in defeat. "…Fine. But if you don't come back, I swear I'll drag you out of whatever hell you end up in." 

Aeron chuckled. "I'll hold you to that." 

As he turned to leave, his eyes darkened for a brief moment. In the shadows behind her, unseen by anyone but him, one of his shadow soldiers silently merged with her own shadow, disappearing into it completely. 

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