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Game Of Thrones: Warlord System

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Synopsis

Chapter 1 - Chapter 1

He stirred, still caught between waking and sleep, his mind confused with the strange sensation of cold air and earthy scents. The moment his eyes opened, he was met with a world of muted greens and grays—mist hanging around him, seeping through gaps in the trees like a cloak.

A bewildered chill crept over him, both from the frigid air and the utter unfamiliarity of his surroundings. One second, he had been warm, secure in his bed; the next, he lay on a bed of damp leaves, surrounded by towering trunks, their dark bark damp and worn. His fingers dug into the ground beneath him, cold, damp earth compressing beneath his nails. He could feel it. Even the distant echo of water trickling over stones somewhere far below reached his ears, each sound clear as though it was part of his very pulse.

Struggling to his feet, he stumbled toward the nearest tree, its bark darkened by morning dew. He pressed his palm against it, almost expecting his hand to sink through, for the forest to shimmer and fade like a dream.

It didn't. The bark was rough, textured, grounding him in a way that was both comforting and terrifying. He swallowed, his breath uneven as he absorbed the reality of it. Around him, the forest stretched wide, shadowed with mountains rising somewhere beyond the mist. This wasn't his home, nor a place he could even recognize—but it was undeniably real.

He shook his head, half-expecting the surreal sight to fade. But there it was—a small, translucent screen floating at his side, faintly pulsing, with a dull gray hue, reminiscent of an old computer monitor. He tentatively reached out, his fingers brushing through the edges of the screen, and watched it shift ever so slightly as if acknowledging his touch. A soft chuckle escaped him, though it was tinged with disbelief, a smile breaking through the confusion. "Really? Hallucinating screens now?" he muttered to himself.

Ignoring it seemed the logical next step, but the screen flickered insistently, like an intrusive thought he couldn't shake. It flashed back into view every few moments until, sighing, he relented and leaned in for a closer look.

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[Main Quest: Hundred Wars]

Complete a hundred battles and earn your way home.

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His eyes narrowed, brows knitting together as he tried to process the absurdity. Hundred Wars? For real? He rubbed his eyes, blinked, and squinted at the screen again, expecting it to vanish, or to change into something more…normal. But the message stayed, plain and immutable, with each word solid.

"A mission…?" he whispered, half to himself, the words tasting foreign on his tongue.

For a long moment, he stood there, gazing at the screen.

Later with a resigned sigh, he sat down on the overgrown root of an old tree, his gaze fixed on the unchanging, faintly glowing screen. He studied it, half-hoping for some kind of prompt, a hint, anything to explain what was happening. But the screen just hovered there, stubbornly blank except for the message, offering no clues or directions. The longer he stared, the more annoyed he became, feeling ridiculous and stranded in a forest with a half-functional, floating screen that seemed to be taunting him.

Finally, his eyes caught something—a tiny, barely visible knob on the edge of the screen. It was almost camouflaged against the misty gray, easy to miss, but there it was. Leaning closer, he extended his finger, hesitating before nudging it. To his surprise, a faint ripple spread across the screen, and with a sudden click, new options appeared.

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Progress: 0/100

[Map] [Barracks]

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He blinked at the screen, his interest piqued despite the absurdity of it all. Map? Barracks? They stirred curiosity within him. 

Tentatively, he reached toward "Barracks," wondering what he might find. The next second, the screen expanded, revealing a list that felt like a bizarre combination of history and fantasy.

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[Barracks]

1. Assassin Class

2. Infantry Class

3. Cavalry Class

4. Archery Class

Progress: 0/100

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Curiosity surged within him as he hovered over "Assassin Class," wondering if he could understand more about this weird setup. Instantly, the list expanded, a new menu displaying various factions and styles of ancient assassins.

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Assassin Class

Shinobi (Japan)

Description: Masters of disguise, stealth, and espionage, often carrying small weapons like kunai and shuriken for swift, silent kills.

Weakness: Vulnerable in prolonged combat due to lighter armor; rely on surprise and single-target focus.

Hashashin (Middle East)

Description: Known for psychological tactics and religious fervor, skilled in stealth and surprise attacks.

Weakness: Limited in long-term engagements; lack heavy protection against organized troops.

Thugee (India)

Description: Secretive group skilled in ambushes and strangulation, often working in groups to overwhelm targets.

Weakness: Limited weaponry and armor; exposed when engaging multiple armed opponents.

Nukekubi (China)

Description: Specialists in decapitation with swift swords and daggers, able to blend into crowds before striking.

Weakness: Their armor is minimal, leaving them vulnerable in prolonged close combat.

Fedayeen (Persia)

Description: Trained in desert survival, known for loyalty to their leader, and adept at using the terrain to strike.

Weakness: Limited by their reliance on ambushes; struggle in open-field combat against armored troops.

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He sat there, mouth slightly agape, scrolling through the combinations of historical warriors. There were classes beyond just assassins: Infantry, Cavalry, Archers. Each group held a catalog of specializations, with strengths and weaknesses outlined, like a military handbook.

A new message abruptly overlaid the screen.

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[Unit Capacity: 0/100]

At your current level, you may access only 100 units. Unlocking every 10% completion in the main quest introduces new military and non-military units. Warning: Once you die, the quest will terminate.

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He took a deep breath, his mind racing with thoughts. Worry crept in, and confusion filled him as he tried to understand what was happening. Even though he was surprised at first, the reality he knew seemed to fade away, replaced by ideas he had once thought were silly but now felt very real. He looked into the misty distance around him, unsure of what would happen next.

His gaze returned to the screen, focusing on the map that flickered softly. He cautiously touched it, expecting to see something normal. At first, it seemed unremarkable—just an array of names. Yet, as he squinted, the words began to crystallize: Eyrie, Snakewood.

Intrigued, he leaned closer, blinking a few times, ensuring he wasn't hallucinating. The map was pointing to the very region he was in now. When he instinctively tried to expand it, mimicking the motions he'd use on a smartphone. To his surprise, another phrase popped up over the area he was touching: "The Vale of Arryn.".

His heart raced as he processed the name. He dragged the map down, and his eyes widened at the next words that appeared—"King's Landing." The shock hit him hard, and disbelief escaped his lips. "No way!" he exclaimed, covering his mouth as if to stop the idea from getting out.