Solo Leveling in Westeros

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The cold wind howled through the jagged peaks of the Frostfangs, biting against Aeron's skin even through his cloak. Seated atop Garm's broad back, he absentmindedly flicked through his system notifications, his glowing purple eyes scanning the floating text. 

[System Notification] 

Quest: Eliminate the Hostile Wildlings – Completed 

Leveled up! 

Leveled up! 

Leveled up! 

Shadow Army Increased to 50 

Job-Specific Skill: Monarch's Domain Unlocked 

Aeron let out a low chuckle. "How convenient," he murmured. 'I can teleport back to Winterfell if I want to… as long as Raya hasn't moved somewhere else.' 

He exhaled, adjusting his grip on Direfang. 'I didn't get to do what I originally wanted here, but it's fine. The only real issue is' 

His jaw clenched.' I wasted too much time.' 

'The War of the Five Kings is already in motion. I have no doubt of that' Aeron thought to himself. Stark banners clashing against Lannister steel, the Riverlands burning, the South scheming. He was out here in the bitter cold while the world he planned to use was changing without him. 

He bit his lip in frustration. 

'Time to move.' 

But then, just as they neared the edge of the Frostfangs Aeron's body stiffened. Something wasn't right. 

His senses flared, sharp as a blade drawn from its sheath. A presence no, multiple lurking in the trees, covered by thick layers of snow. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but it was there. 

Garm's low growl confirmed it. 

Aeron wordlessly signaled his beast to halt. He swung off Garm's back, his boots sinking into the thick snow. 

Direfang hummed in his grip as he turned his gaze toward the trees. 

"This is weird," he muttered. His instincts were rarely wrong. "Something is hiding there, but not like the undead" 

His fingers twitched, signaling Garm once more this time to attack. The massive beast responded instantly, launching forward like a blur of black fur and muscle, his speed frightening even in the deep snow. And then The snow erupted. 

Five forms leapt from their hiding spot, landing with soundless grace, their sleek fur blending seamlessly with the shadows of the trees. 

Their eyes gleamed with deadly intelligence as they crouched, their bodies ready to strike. They weren't mindless beasts they were hunters. Killers. And of the Predators of the true North. 

Aeron grinned. "Shadowcats, Brilliant." His fingers tightened around Direfang's hilt. "I've been wondering where to find you, i'll just make you one of my soldiers now." 

The largest shadowcat a towering beast nearly as big as Garm let out a low, guttural snarl before lunging. The others followed, moving in perfect synchrony. 

Aeron met them head-on. 

His sword cut through the first one mid-leap, cleaving through fur, flesh, and bone as easily as slicing through mist. Blood sprayed across the snow, but he was already moving. 

A second shadowcat lunged for his blind spot Garm intercepted, massive jaws snapping around its throat and crushing it instantly. The remaining three split off, circling. Aeron narrowed his eyes. "Smart bastards, now i want you even more!" 

One feinted left while another attacked from behind, but he was faster. Ruler's Authority flared to life, invisible force gripping one of the shadowcats and lifting it high into the air. 

The creature writhed, hissing, clawing at nothingness 

"Garm!" 

With a single command, his wolf leapt high, higher than any normal beast should be able to. The suspended shadowcat had no chance Garm's jaws latched onto its throat mid-air, twisting viciously as they both came crashing down. 

The snow crunched beneath the weight of their landing. The shadowcat's body twitched once, then fell still. 

The last two hesitated. 

Aeron didn't give them a chance. 

With a single flash of Direfang, he tore through them both in one clean, merciless stroke. Their bodies fell to the snow, staining it deep crimson. 

The forest went still once more. 

Aeron straightened, shaking the blood off his blade. His glowing eyes turned toward the fallen beasts. 

He exhaled, sheathing Direfang before lifting his hand. 

"Arise." 

The shadows around the corpses shivered. Twisted. And then, just like that, they stood again. No longer bound by the living world. 

Aeron grinned, watching his new shadowcats bow their heads in silent obedience. He stood before his newly risen shadowcats, his glowing violet eyes scanning them with satisfaction. They were magnificent creatures, powerful, and now bound to his will. But one stood out among them. The largest of the five, still carried that same aura of dominance even in death. 

"You," he said, stepping forward. The massive shadowcat's ears twitched, acknowledging him. "From now on, you are 'Fang' and you will lead the others." He turned, surveying the four others, who stood in silence behind their new leader. "You'll follow Fang from now on. Don't disappoint me." 

His violet eyes burned with satisfaction. 

"If these exist here…" he murmured to himself, his fingers brushing against Direfang's hilt. "Then I can find ice bears too.." 

**** 

(Winterfell)

Theon stood on the steps of the Great Keep, trying to look like he belonged there. His men, rough-faced ironborn killers, spread out around him, their hands resting on the hilts of axes and swords. The banners of House Stark still hung from the walls, but the castle was no longer theirs. It was his now. 

The people of Winterfell were gathered in the courtyard, cold and angry, their breath misting in the morning air. He could feel their eyes on him, full of hatred. He swallowed it down. 

"You all know me," he said, forcing a smile, trying to sound like a prince. "I was raised here. I trained with your sons. I fought beside Robb Stark." 

"Aye," Farlen, the old kennelmaster, cut him off, his voice thick with contempt. "We know you for a steaming sack of shit." 

A few chuckles, low and bitter, spread through the crowd. Some of the guards exchanged glances, uneasy. 

Theon's smile twitched. Then it was gone. "Beat him," he said flatly. 

His men moved fast. The first punch slammed into Farlen's gut, making him double over with a grunt. The second was a backhand across his face, splitting his lip. He hit the ground hard, blood dripping onto the dirt. 

Theon looked over the crowd, daring someone else to speak. Daring them to defy him. 

And then— "My man already warned me about you," a woman's voice rang out. "You are no prince." 

Theon's eyes snapped toward her. 

Raya. She stood tall, arms crossed, dark eyes burning. She wasn't afraid. She wasn't even trying to hide her disgust. 

Theon clenched his jaw. A lowborn woman daring to challenge him, in front of everyone? 

"You should watch your tongue," he said, stepping forward. His voice was quieter now, more dangerous. "Your 'man' isn't here, is he?" 

Raya tilted her head. "Yes, he is. Fighting up north." 

Theon let out a short, mocking laugh. His men joined in, jeering. 

"North? You mean the Wall?" He grinned, eyes glinting with cruelty. "Your man's a criminal sent to freeze and die with the rest of the filth?" 

More laughter. Some of his men spat, others smirked. 

Raya didn't flinch. "Maybe not. But he knew you'd do this. Knew you'd turn your back on the Starks. And look at you now, stealing a castle from children, from the people who raised you. You're a traitor, Greyjoy. That's all you are." 

A few murmurs stirred in the crowd. Someone spat on the ground. 

Theon's jaw clenched. His grip tightened around the hilt of his sword. 

"Shut her up," he snapped. 

One of his raiders seized her by the arm, yanking her forward. She didn't struggle, didn't fight just stared at Theon with that same look. Like he was something small. Something weak. 

"You think this makes you a prince?" she asked, voice steady as steel. "Beating on your own people? Taking a castle without a fight? That's not the way of the North, Greyjoy." 

Theon's blood boiled. His hand itched for his sword, but he forced himself to stay still. He had to control this. Had to show them he wasn't some boy playing war. 

One of his men, a brute with a scarred face and rotten teeth, grinned and spat at the ground. "Let me cut her throat, m'lord. to teach the others some respect." 

Theon shook his head, smirking. "No. She's too pretty for a peasant to be cut down so easily." His gaze flickered over Raya with something between amusement and malice. "Use her however you see fit." 

The raiders chuckled darkly. The one holding her yanked at her arm, already reaching for the laces of her tunic. 

Then the shadows moved. 

A sword emerged from the darkness beneath Raya's feet, A heartbeat later, a figure followed a monstrous shape wreathed in black mist, purple eyes burning like cold fire. The shadow soldier rose from the ground like a specter of death and drove its blade straight through the raider's throat. 

The man choked, blood bubbling from his mouth. His hands clawed at the sword lodged in his neck, but the shadow twisted the blade before ripping it free. His lifeless body collapsed in the dirt. 

The entire courtyard froze at the sight of this. 

/-\ 

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