Game of Thrones: I loaded the Witcher system

At eight o'clock in the morning, after hurriedly eating an absolutely over-nutritious breakfast, Clay was pulled into the huge courtyard in the center of the castle by the sudden arrival of Sir Marlon Manderly.

Clay took a quick look and saw that this place was four or five times larger than the school grounds of Winterfell. There were several areas separated by thick oak fences. There was an archery range full of arrow targets, similar to a cavalry sprint track. training ground, and a swordsmanship training ground with weapon racks filled with long swords.

Around these facilities, Clay actually saw some buildings similar to stands, which brought a little relaxation to this somewhat serious place.

Sir Malone is very old, but he is still big and strong, wearing a suit of armor as if he doesn't feel it, and has a short fighting sword stuck at his waist.

He led Clay into the training ground. Clay noticed that there were some figures wearing armor at the entrance of the cavalry training ground.

Clay's eyes were very good. Although he was far away, he could see clearly. Most of these people were young, and the oldest was definitely no more than 30 years old.

At this time, they were gathering in twos and threes, muttering and not knowing what they were talking about, but Clay noticed that each of them had a very obvious mermaid family emblem on their armor.

"These people are all descendants of the family. We are here to let them know what the master's heir looks like."

Sir Malone naturally slowed down and said to Clay who was following behind.

"You will get to know them later. The method is up to you, whether you drink them down or knock them over with your sword. You have the final say, but an old man's advice: knock them over first and then drink them for the best results."

"Aren't you worried about them knocking me over?" Clay asked Sir Malone with a smile.

"Boy, don't treat us all as blind and deaf. There are many people who know what you did in Winterfell." Ser Malon pointed to his ear.

Clay thought about it, and he always felt that the purpose of this specially arranged meeting was not just to get to know these Mandalay branches.

"After it's over, you have to choose some of them to be your attendants. In a few days, the master will preside over your knight canonization ceremony. Originally, I wanted to invite Duke Stark to this matter, but now I see no chance. .”

Seemingly seeing through what Clay was thinking, Sir Malone added.

Nodding, Clay understood what the old man meant. He was choosing a team for himself. Thinking about it carefully, this was not surprising, because Clay had no brothers.

Take the Stark family as an example. After Rob, the eldest brother, inherits the position of Duke of Winterfell, Bran and Rickon will automatically become his assistants or butlers. The cost of trust between brothers is very low.

But Clay didn't have this kind of treatment. He was the only male heir to the main line of the family. When he went to the battlefield, he didn't even have any soldiers he could trust.

Seeing the two people walking in, especially the majestic-looking Sir Malone, these young Manderlys, who had just seemed lazy, jumped up like rabbits.

Clay saw a fat man with thick hair eating with his back turned. He was reminded by his companion to slap him on the head. Just as he was about to bar his teeth and swing his fist, he turned around and saw Malone and Clay.

It was very obvious that the little fat man swallowed the unfinished food, arranged himself and stood up in a series of operations within five seconds. In terms of agility, he caught up with Clay, the demon hunter, and he was amazed.

"They seem to be quite afraid of you." Clay said quietly.

"Oh, some of them were raised by their fathers."

"..."

It was indeed an irrefutable statement, so powerful and domineering that I was convinced.

Clay followed Sir Malone and stood in front of these people. His eyes swept across each of their faces, and they were also looking at Clay.

The Mandalay family has a long history and has been rooted in the land of White Harbor for a long time.

Generation after generation, in addition to the main line of the family, the remaining branches continue to this day. The luckiest ones will have a knighthood and manage a small village for the main line or themselves.

Most of them have lost their surnames through generations of intermarriage. These people in front of them are probably wealthy families that Sir Malone found who can afford a pair of armor.

The rest, like Clay, have the same surname as Mandalay, but they are no different from ordinary farmers.

This time, Sir Malone informed them that Master Clay was going to select a retainer, and the chosen ones would be trained to become Master Clay's personal soldiers.

No one gave them a thumbs up, but every family who received the news tried their best to prepare the best armor for their son or husband. If they were really selected by Master Clay, their family's fate would inevitably be changed.

"You know why you are here, and I won't talk nonsense. This is Clay Mandler, the grandson of Lord Wyman and the son of Sir Wendell."

Sir Malone turned sideways and introduced Clay to them.

Clay saw various expressions on their faces, including envy, flattery, sternness, pleading, etc. There was no hatred or jealousy. With the blessing of the great prestige of Earl Wyman who had ruled White Harbor for decades, they were not jealous at all. stand up.

"Stand in formation, do you still need me to teach you?" Sir Malone suddenly frowned.

The people who had just gathered around him were excited when they heard this, and then quickly stood in a neat row according to their size.

Clay understood that Count Wyman's arrangement was definitely not a temporary plan. These people knew their positions in the team very well, which meant that they had been trained for a long time. Maybe they had already started when they went to Winterfell.

"In order, please tell me your name." Clay, who had been watching with cold eyes, suddenly said.

Hearing Clay speak, Sir Malone said nothing more. Clay was the protagonist today, and he had no intention of overshadowing him.

After being stunned for a moment, the tall man who looked blunt and blunt said hesitantly:

"Umo...Umo Mandalay, my lord."

Nodding, Clay looked to the next one.

"Resta Manderly, my lord, my family is..."

This man who was slightly shorter than Ulmer spoke very quickly. After saying his name, he wanted to say something else. Clay raised his hand to interrupt him.

Clay glanced at him, then looked at the person behind him.

"I only need your names. There is no need to mention your family relationship. That is not important to me. Next."

Instead of looking at the somewhat embarrassed Risda, Clay looked at the next person.

"Rickard Manderly."

"Mort Manderly, my lord."

…

Clay listened to each one with an expressionless face. There was no need for Clay to show kindness. Now he didn't know these people at all. Showing kindness would only make them feel weak and bullyable.

When necessary, Clay feels that he can even see blood. After all, what he wants is a guard team that can follow him to the battlefield and be his future team. If it is to show mercy, it is only right for them to let them go back and continue to make a living. The utmost kindness.

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