theimaginarywriter
patreon
Game of Thrones: The Ruler- Chapter 3: Gifts
🕑 Added 2025-06-16 17:46:48 +0000 UTCJon’s thoughts drifted toward the gifts he had been granted, four in total.
The first, and perhaps the most important, was the power of Yoriichi Tsugikuni. What had Jon received from Yoriichi?
His physique and his unparalleled talent in swordsmanship.
Despite being a mere human, that man had once struck fear into the heart of a demon lord— Muzan who was an immortal being with near limitless regeneration. And not just fear, Yoriichi had terrorized Muzan.
In Jon’s opinion, there may have been many powerful sword users across the fantasy worlds, but none came close to Yoriichi in raw, natural talent. He was a mortal. His world had no mana, no cultivation, only a simple breathing technique. And yet, even with that alone, Yoriichi had stood at the top. He had dominated the demon lord. Even when he was old and on his deathbed, no one came close to him.
True, Jon had not received any of the breathing forms from the Demon Slayer world. He had also not received the power of the transparent world. He was not sure if he could awaken it in the future or not.
But that did not concern him. Yoriichi’s physique and talent alone were more than enough.
The second gift Jon had received was the ability to bestow his blood essence upon up to five individuals.
He could grant this essence only to those who were willing to serve him loyally and faithfully. And what did this essence do?
The essence greatly enhanced the recipient’s physical and mental capabilities, making them far stronger than the average person. While they would not match Jon in strength or talent, they would still stand well above most others. More importantly, once the essence was accepted, betrayal became impossible. Their loyalty would be absolute, bound by the very power that elevated them.
The third gift Jon had received was the ability to wield the powers of his lineage and bloodlines.
What exactly those powers were, he only had a vague idea. From the Stark side, there was the potential of being a Warg, a Skinchanger, and even a Greenseer. Perhaps there was also some affinity with ice, though he was not certain.
From the Targaryen side, there was the legendary gift of dragon taming, and possibly immunity to fire, though again, Jon was not sure. All he had for now were fragments of instinct and knowledge, waiting to be explored.
And then there was the fourth gift—not a power, but a piece of information.
He had been told that his father had left behind certain gifts, hidden in the place where Rhaegar had last met Lyanna.
Jon sighed as he stood up. Although the powers had been granted to him, they had not yet fully merged with his body. They were still waiting, waiting for his approval.
He took a deep breath and gave his will.
A jolt of searing pain shot through him, and a muffled groan escaped his lips. It felt as if his entire body had been set ablaze as if he was undergoing some sort of remorphing, a complete restructuring of his being. He clenched his fists tightly, refusing to let out anything more than muffled gasps, suppressing the urge to scream aloud.
He had no idea how much time had passed before his senses finally returned.
To an outsider, there would appear to be no change. He still looked like the same lean, weak, bastard boy of Winterfell. But Jon could feel it.
Raw power coursed through his veins. A profound understanding of the sword had taken root in his mind. It was natural, instinctive, overwhelming. He felt as if his very body had become a sword itself.
Had this been a cultivation world, he was sure he could have split stone with a flick of his finger. Jon chuckled at the thought.
His entire body was drenched in sweat, and he was still wondering what to do next. Maybe a bath to cleanse of all the sweat. It was then the door to the room creaked open.
His eyes shifted to the doorway, where an old man entered. Maester Luwin.
“Oh! Jon,” the Maester exclaimed in mild surprise. “You are awake.”
He was carrying a small bowl in his hands, likely filled with some kind of ointment for Jon’s injury. Jon gave the old man a small nod.
“I had thought you would be unconscious for at least another full day,” Maester Luwin continued. “But it is good to see you are up.”
“I brought this paste,” he added, lifting the bowl slightly. “It will help soothe the pain and prevent any internal clotting.”
The kind Maester stepped forward to apply the paste, but Jon stopped him with a raised hand.
“Maester,” Jon said calmly, “I will apply it myself.”
Maester Luwin paused, then nodded at the quiet firmness in Jon’s tone.
“If you say so,” he replied, placing the bowl gently on the table beside the bed.
“You should not dwell on it too much,” the Maester added. “Such incidents are not uncommon between boys of your age.”
“Now that you are awake,” he continued, “you should come to the grand hall this evening. Lord Stark will be passing judgment on Theon for what he did.”
“Maybe you can add something in the hearing if you want,” the master advised.
“I will be there, Maester,” Jon replied, his voice neutral.
Sensing that the incident might still be weighing heavily on Jon’s mind, Maester Luwin chose not to press further. He gave a small nod and quietly took his leave, closing the door behind him.
Jon’s gaze fell to the bowl of ointment. His eyes narrowed slightly. He did not touch it.
After merging with his gifts, his body had undergone a complete transformation. An injury like that barely registered anymore.
[NOTE: Before question are raised about Yoriichi powers, I would say my word. I thing there is no doubt about his talent in sword. Now questions may be raised at his physique. Some may argue that he was strong because of his sun breathing. I agree and maybe not agree. But for my story, his physique will be considered powerful.]
