reincarnated in GOT with a down graded Cheat engine.

Three days passed before Levi was allowed beyond the bailiff's door.

Each morning, he stood by the longhouse. And each morning, he was told, "Not yet." The guards silent, expressionless offered no explanation. He was neither turned away with insult nor greeted with warmth. Just the plain certainty that the man inside wasn't ready to speak with him.

By the third day, Levi's patience was thin. But still he waits then, just past dawn, the door creaked open, and a voice simply said, "Now."

He entered.

The air inside the longhouse was warmer than he expected, a faint scent of pine and damp parchment hanging in the stillness. Ser Sedge sat cross-legged near the hearth not in armor, but in plain wool and linen, blending almost too well with the setting. He held a bundle of notes in one hand, flipping through them with idle grace.

He did not look up at first.

When he did, it was with a small smile and a sharp gaze.

"I hope you don't mind the delay," Sedge said. "I've been busy."

Levi opened his mouth to speak, but the bailiff continued.

"I've let both my men loose in your little, What do they call it now?" He smirked. "Village. Charming word. Grown a bit, hasn't it?"

Levi stayed quiet, unsure whether it was praise or mockery.

"I've heard many things about you, Levi," Sedge went on. "Some say you're brave. Others say you're stupid. A few call you just. More whisper about how deep your pockets go, Especially when silver's involved. And as for your plans..."

He tilted his head. "Nobility? Is that the dream?"

Levi tensed sweat behind his back.

"I heard from the envoy," Sedge said. "You had... requests. Amusing, truly. But go ahead. I'll hear them."

He leaned forward slightly, voice lowering. "Just do be careful. Words are heavy things. Say the wrong one in the wrong ear, and you'll find your throat cut by morning."

Levi swallowed hard, then drew a breath.

He told him everything.

Weapons training not just for himself, but for others. A future militia, a defense force. Something better than sticks and stubbornness. He explained the dangers of the Neck, the ambitions of the village, the need to survive with more than just hope and half-baked plans.

Sedge listened without interruption. He tapped a finger softly on the edge of his notes.

"When you wanted your village recognized," he said at last, "you went to the Crannogmen. Took their trial. That scar in the eye of yours proves it."

He gestured lazily toward Levi's face, where the scar still lingered.

"But what you're asking now... it's not so simple, No it never was.."

He folded the notes and tucked them beneath one leg.

"The two men I brought with me," he said, "are not just guards. One's a bowman, better than most you'll meet this far south. The other fights with a spear and has never once missed when it counts."

He looked up, eyes sharper now.

"And I? I am fond of the sword."

Levi frowned slightly. "You brought them for this?"

Sedge smiled. "I brought them for my amusement, really. To see who this young man from Bogwater truly is the boy who dares to ask for spears and soldiers."

He stood, stretching his arms slowly.

"You've always been tested, Levi. From the moment you stepped foot in this land, Land carved and bloodied by the First Men."

Levi straightened, gaze firm. "Then I'll keep facing those tests. Whatever they are."

"Good," Sedge said. "As all men with ambition do."

He stepped closer.

"Your test is simple. Yet not so simple. You will face me. One week, Everyday for 7 days."

Levi blinked. "Face you?"

"Not with steel," Sedge said, almost kindly. "Wooden swords. I'm not here to kill you—yet."

He laughed softly at his own joke.

"All you must do is land a hit on me. One clean strike. That's it."

He raised a brow. "Easy, no?"

Levi hesitated. "And if I fail?"

"Then your request dies. Along with any hope of seeing this place defended as you wish."

Sedge's voice sharpened. "Push again after that, and it will have consequences. I promise you that."

A long silence passed between them.

"Each morning," Sedge continued, "you'll come to the back of this longhouse. We'll spar there away from eyes and ears. I'd rather not have the villagers watching you flail about."

He turned and walked toward his desk, retrieving another set of papers.

"As for the taxes, How much this village pays, when, and how I'll speak to the old maester. The one you clung to when the envoy came."

He looked back. "Let him carry that burden. You have enough weight on your shoulders."

Levi gave a single nod. "Thank you."

He turned to leave.

But just before he reached the door, he paused and looked back.

"I'm not easy to discourage," he said, voice calm. "I might've been lazy before... maybe I still am. But I'm changing."

His dark deep eyes met Sedge's. "Even if I have to bleed in that sparring ring, I'll do it. I'll pass your test."

He stepped through the door and let it close behind him.

Inside the longhouse, Ser Sedge lingered near the hearth.

And with a whisper only the fire heard, he said:

"What makes you think you won't bleed?"