reincarnated in GOT with a down graded Cheat engine.

The second day came and went in the way a sword strikes a shield — loud, painful, and impossible to ignore. The bruises on Levi's arms from Ser Sedge's wooden blade had darkened overnight, swollen lumps under his skin. On the third morning, the blows got sharper. Crisper. Less like sparring and more like punishment.

"Again," Ser Sedge barked, his eyes like chipped granite.

Levi barely lifted the wooden sword, and when he did, the counterstrike came so fast he didn't even see it. His feet slipped in the dirt, and he fell hard, bleeding from a split lip. His breath caught in his throat, and then blackness.

"Rann," Ser Sedge called to one of his men, his tone unchanged. "He's done. Patch him and bring him home."

"Aye," the man said with a sigh, already reaching for Levi's battered arm.

When they carried the unconscious boy back through Bogwater, eyes turned. Not just from the women in the weaving sheds or the boys cleaning fish. Even the oldest of the old turned from the longhouse steps to whisper.

Gran Mae was waiting by her doorway, arms crossed.

"What happened?" she demanded, spotting the cuts and bruises on Levi's face.

Rann didn't flinch. "This is what the lad asked for," he said plainly. Then he walked on, like it was just another day.

Mae stared after him, jaw clenched. "Foolish boy," she muttered. "What are you trying to prove?"

By dawn, Levi barely felt his body. The wooden sword was heavier than iron. He stood outside the longhouse again, face pale and sunken. Ser Sedge looked at him from the doorway, unimpressed.

"This is day four," the knight said. "And you still haven't given it much thought."

Levi didn't respond.

"I know training takes years. But for you to not land a single strike I wonder if this test is even worth the effort."

Levi's voice cracked through the silence. "It ain't pointless."

He pointed the wooden sword, trembling.

"Nothing is ever pointless. Beat me. Bleed me. But I won't yield."

Ser Sedge stared at him, unblinking. "For a fool to grow wise, he has to die once," he said coldly.

That day, Levi left with more wounds. His eye swollen shut, his legs barely supporting him. Gran Mae tried to stop him, but he only grinned, bloody teeth flashing.

"I'll rest when I land a hit."

Then he collapsed into her arms.

By the fifth and sixth day, Levi could hardly lift his arms. His clothes were stained with sweat and blood. Each breath burned. But he kept showing up, like a broken clock refusing to stop ticking.

Ser Sedge didn't say a word. He simply stood there, sword in hand, unmoving as Levi stumbled through crude, sluggish strikes.

After Levi fell again, Ser Sedge whispered to himself, "Still standing. Even when I made sure he wouldn't last past day three... Remarkable. But I won't be seeing him tomorrow."

He struck the boy hard, sending him into the mud.

This time, Levi didn't get up.