Game of Thrones: My Weekend Trips to Earth Chapter 132 132

Novel: Game of Thrones: My Weekend Trips to Earth Author: wolfsink Updated: Jun 17, 2026

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Now reading: Chapter 132 132 from Game of Thrones: My Weekend Trips to Earth, a Action novel by wolfsink.

The news of Eddard Stark's death spread across the Seven Kingdoms like a raven with wings, reaching every corner within just a few days.

Every castle, every tavern, every street — people were talking about it.

"Have you heard? The Lord of the North is dead!"

"How did he die? Wasn't he at war?"

"He was killed during the prisoner exchange! The Lannisters cheated!"

"Seven save us… that was Eddard Stark…"

Harrenhal.

Jai Lannister strode into his father's tent, his face twisted with rage.

"How could you do sothing like this!"

His roar echoed between the stone walls.

Tywin Lannister sat behind the table, reading so docunts. He looked up and stared coldly at his eldest son.

"We agreed to exchange prisoners! You sent a fake Arya, and she killed her own father?!"

Jai's hands clenched into fists.

"This is destroying the Lannister family's honor! How will the Seven Kingdoms view House Lannister now? The Kingslayer already broke his vows, and now you…"

Slap!

Tywin slamd his hand on the table and stood up.

"I did it to save you!" His voice was louder, colder, and more authoritative than Jai's. "I am your father! Do not speak to like that!"

Jai took several deep breaths, struggling to control his emotions. He knew arguing with his father was pointless.

"Where is the girl now?" His voice lowered. "She's just a little girl, not even ten years old."

Tywin stared at him for a long mont before slowly sitting back down.

"This matter… was not arranged by ."

Jai froze.

"But the result was satisfactory," Tywin's tone returned to calm, even carrying a hint of satisfaction. A sharp light flashed in his deep eyes. "Removing that old wolf Eddard Stark severely damaged the Northern army's morale. Perhaps they will retreat soon."

Jai opened his mouth, wanting to say sothing, but found he had nothing to say.

He turned and left.

"Eddard is dead. They won't retreat!"

As he walked out the door, countless thoughts flashed through his mind.

Not arranged by his father? Then who?

Dragonstone? Impossible. Stannis had already allied with the North — he had no reason to sabotage his own ally.

That left only one possibility.

The Stormlands — Renly.

To escalate the conflict between the North and the Westerlands, break the alliance between the North and Dragonstone, and reap the benefits?

A complex light flashed in Jai's eyes.

Draco.

Sansa Stark sat by the window, clutching a letter in her hand.

It was a letter from the Northern camp. It was short, but every word cut into her heart like a knife.

Her father… was dead.

She sat there stunned.

Then the tears poured out like a flood.

All the joy she had felt these past days — making friends in Draco, exploring everywhere, shopping every day — vanished in an instant.

Luke stood beside her, speaking softly to comfort her.

"I am truly sorry to hear this news. I don't know what to say… but if you need any help, or simply soone to be with you, I am here anyti."

His voice was gentle.

To be honest, he was also sowhat bewildered.

Hadn't he already rescued Eddard Stark from King's Landing? How had he still died?

Sansa threw herself into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably.

Luke gently held her, letting her release her grief. His large hand softly patted her back, soothing her like a wounded little rabbit.

Until maid Annie ca in to change the tea and made a slight sound.

Sansa jumped away from Luke like a startled kitten. Her face flushed red like a cooked shrimp, tears still on her cheeks, completely flustered.

Annie didn't tease her and pretended not to notice. She stepped forward and gently pulled Sansa into her arms, whispering words of comfort.

Luke stood to the side, watching the two girls.

A complex light flashed in his eyes.

Northern Army Camp.

Inside the commander's tent, the atmosphere was heavy.

Almost everyone bore wounds. Wine and roasted at sat on the table, but few had any appetite. The recent battle was still fresh in everyone's minds.

Not only the common soldiers — even the noble lords felt deeply frustrated.

Their liege lord had died under mysterious circumstances. That old lion Tywin refused to fight them head-on and hid inside Harrenhal. Although the Northern soldiers were fierce, they could not chew through a fortress defended by twenty thousand n.

For now, the fighting had paused.

They were holding the funeral for the Lord of the North.

All the Northern lords were present. Mormont, Umber, Glover, Cerwyn, Manderly, Reed, Hornwood, Bolton… banners fluttered, faces solemn. Everyone was filled with pent-up anger.

Rickard Karstark stepped forward and addressed the gathering.

His voice was low and powerful.

"Eddard Stark and I were not friends for just a day. We fought together in the War of the Ninepenny Kings. Back then, his father Lord Rickard was still alive, and his brother Brandon was the heir. I watched him grow from a boy following behind his brother into the most respected lord in the North."

He paused.

"Twenty years ago, the Mad King killed his father and brother. He single-handedly took up the burden of his house and the entire North. When Robert Baratheon rebelled, he led his n south without hesitation. For what? For honor, for friendship, for a damned promise."

His voice suddenly rose.

"And what was the result? The Mad King killed his father and brother… Robert Baratheon died under a wild boar's tusks. Tywin Lannister — that despicable, treacherous old lion with no knightly honor — broke his word and murdered him."

"He lived his life with honor and integrity. And look at what the South has beco now?"

Karstark raised three fingers.

"King's Landing has a Joffrey — a bastard born of incest, the spawn of Cersei and her brother! Dragonstone has a Stannis — cold, grim, and ruthless! The Stormlands has a Renly — what does he have? A pretty face? A stolen crown?"

"Three kings! Three kings fighting over a broken chair, leaving corpses everywhere and rivers of blood. Who are they killing in the South? Riverland farrs, Stormlands bastards, Westerlands sellswords!"

He lowered his hand and pointed at the ground.

"And us? We are Northerners."

"Our ancestors crossed the Neck thousands of years ago and planted their roots in this frozen land. Back then, there were no Seven Kingdoms, no dragons, and the Lannisters were nothing but pirates stealing gold by the sea!"

His gaze swept across every man.

"Those Southerners will do anything for power. They ally one day and betray the next. They call each other brothers today and stab each other in the back tomorrow."

"They speak of loyalty, honor, and knightly vows, then imdiately break their word and go back on their promises!"

"We are not like that."

"We Northerners keep our word."

Karstark took a deep breath. His voice grew steady but carried even more weight than his earlier roar.

"Ned is dead. Tywin Lannister thinks he has won."

"But he doesn't understand…"

Karstark suddenly turned and pointed at the young man standing at the front of the crowd.

"The North will never submit to anyone!"

All eyes fell on the fifteen-year-old boy.

Robb stood motionless. Grey Wind pressed against his leg. His face showed no emotion, but sothing burned in those deep grey eyes.

"The young man standing before you," Karstark's voice beca solemn and respectful, "is the eldest son of Eddard Stark. He is the heir of Winterfell. He is the only man I, Rickard Karstark, am willing to follow with my life."

He turned to Robb and took a deep breath.

"King in the North!"

A rough voice suddenly rang out.

It was Greatjon Umber. His massive body crashed to its knees like a mountain collapsing onto the snow.

"King in the North!"

Then Maege Mormont stepped forward, lifted her skirt of mail, and knelt on one knee. Her daughters followed.

"King in the North!"

Theon Greyjoy knelt.

Lord Glover knelt.

Lord Cerwyn knelt.

One after another, until the entire hall was kneeling.

"King in the North!"

The sound thundered through the tent like rolling thunder.

Robb stood there, looking at the Northern lords kneeling before him.

He knew he had no choice but to accept the title.

After these days of fighting, many lords had lost most of the soldiers they brought. Especially House Karstark of Karhold and House Mormont of Bear Island.

One had led the vanguard and suffered heavy losses; the other had never had many n to begin with.

Since the Battle of the Ruby Ford, many lords had begun thinking of returning to the North. If they continued fighting like this, they would lose everything.

If he did not go along with their will, he would not be able to keep them fighting for his revenge.

He took a deep breath and spoke slowly.

"I, Robb Stark, hereby accept the title of King in the North."

He drew his sword and raised it high.

"For the North!"

The crowd roared in response.

Not long after the news of Eddard Stark's death spread, another piece of news shook the Seven Kingdoms.

The North had declared independence. Robb Stark was crowned "King in the North."

At the sa ti, the Iron Islands also declared independence from the Iron Throne. Balon Greyjoy proclaid himself "King Balon."

In the waning days of 298 AC, the winds of war howled.

Five kings now stood upon the continent of Westeros.

Joffrey in King's Landing called himself "King on the Iron Throne."