Attribute Panel

After the knighting ceremony, Margaery drifted away.

Dickon was also driven off by his father.

In the empty knights' hall, only Count Randyll and Samwell Caesar remained.

Father and son faced each other in silence, and the atmosphere was somewhat stifling.

Eager to return and study his attribute panel, Samwell spoke first.

"Father, did you keep me here because there was something else you wished to tell me?"

"You hate me." Count Randyll looked at his eldest son and suddenly spoke.

Before Samwell could answer, he continued.

"You need not deny it, because I do not care."

Samwell's mouth twitched, and he simply fell silent.

Count Randyll looked at the son who suddenly seemed somewhat unfamiliar to him. An inexplicable emotion rose within him, but his tone remained as cold as ever.

"If a hunter returns empty-handed, his family will go hungry. If a lord suffers defeat, his castle will be put to the torch. Over the countless years, how many families have vanished from Westeros simply because of a cowardly and incompetent heir.

House Tarly of the Reach needs a lord capable of wielding Heartsbane to kill his enemies, while you are not even qualified to touch it.

"Therefore, no matter how much you hate me, I will never place the fate of the family in your hands."

Samwell listened quietly, but he truly did not feel much resentment.

After all, the original owner of this body had indeed failed to meet Count Randyll's standards for an heir. Although Samwell had tried to change after transmigrating here, it was already too late.

But all that was in the past.

After the knighting ceremony, he had taken the surname Caesar. From now on, everything related to House Tarly had nothing to do with him.

At that moment, Count Randyll suddenly tossed something to his son.

Samwell hurriedly caught it. Looking down, he discovered that it was a large, bulging pouch of Gold Dragons!

"Since you voluntarily gave up your inheritance, this is the share you deserve," Count Randyll explained calmly.

"Thank you, Father!" Samwell naturally would not refuse. He needed funds for his expansion.

"Also, before this departure, I personally slaughtered your riding instructor, James."

Samwell was startled, but he quickly realized—

This James must have been the mastermind behind his previous riding accident!

His father had discovered him and killed him!

"No matter how useless you are, you are still the eldest son of House Tarly! Even if judgment must be passed upon you, it should be carried out by my own hand!" Count Randyll declared domineeringly.

Samwell felt a jumble of emotions and lowered his head in silence.

No matter what, his father had avenged him.

After a moment of silence, Count Randyll spoke again.

"Sam, do you remember our house words?"

Samwell nodded.

"First in Battle."

The moment the words left his mouth, he understood why Count Randyll had been so determined to replace the heir. The original owner had clearly been incapable of living up to House Tarly's words.

Count Randyll's expression softened slightly. "Though you no longer bear the Tarly name, I still hope you remember these words.

"Plots and lies may win political victories, but when it comes to ruling the battlefield, House Tarly has more right to speak than anyone.

"Since you had the courage to accept the expansion order this time, it proves that House Tarly's blood still flows in your veins. Remember this maxim. During the difficult task of developing your territory, it will be far more useful than money."

Samwell nodded solemnly, warmth rising in his heart.

But Count Randyll's next words were like a bucket of ice water poured over him.

"But if your expansion fails, do not even think of returning to Horn Hill. Otherwise, I will personally chop off your head!"

With that, Count Randyll turned and left.

Samwell was left staring at his father's tall retreating back with a complicated expression. In the end, he shook his head with a laugh and rolled his eyes.

In a garden filled with flowers, Samwell held a silver longsword and diligently practiced thrusting at a target made of ironwood.

Unfortunately, his bloated body was anything but graceful, and it severely hindered his speed. Before long, his footwork had become a complete mess.

Yet Samwell still did not give up, persisting clumsily.

Only when the sun was gradually setting and his clothes were completely soaked through did he finally stop.

Dragging his exhausted body with difficulty, Samwell made his way to the steps and sat down, then grabbed a cup of water and gulped down several mouthfuls.

After catching his breath, he focused on his attribute panel.

The values had barely changed. Only agility had risen from 0.52 to 0.53.

It seemed his guess had been correct. Training could alter his attribute values.

However, the change was not particularly significant.

After practicing thrusts for an entire afternoon, only his agility had increased by 0.01, while his strength and spirit had not changed at all.

Perhaps they had not remained unchanged. The changes might simply have been too small to show in the numbers.

After all, the values on the attribute panel were only precise to two decimal places.

The reason agility had changed the most was probably because its original value had been too low, making it easier to improve.

Samwell guessed that an ordinary adult's three attributes should each be 1. Because he was so obese, his agility differed the most from that of a normal person.

His strength was slightly higher than normal. After all, if he lacked strength, he would not even be able to move such a massive body. His highest value, however, was spirit, at 1.12.

Samwell felt that this might be related to the original owner's natural intelligence and love of reading.

Of the three values on the attribute panel, strength and agility were easy enough to understand. It was the last one, spirit, that Samwell was uncertain about.

He suspected that the spirit attribute might be connected to the magic that had supposedly vanished from legend.

After all, this was a fantasy world. There were dragons, White Walkers, Children of the Forest, sorcerers, and the old and new gods...

Although these magical creatures had either gone extinct or become legends, and even divine miracles had not appeared in Westeros for a very long time, as the Long Summer drew to an end and Winter Is Coming, as the Game of Thrones began once more, these mysterious forces would gradually awaken as well.

Perhaps once his spirit value reached a certain level, he too would be able to open the door to the mysterious and explore what lay beyond.

But that was the problem. Samwell had not yet found a way to assign points.

Relying solely on knightly training, he could indeed raise his strength and agility, but the pace was too slow.

Moreover, as those two values increased, the rate of improvement would slow further while the difficulty would rise.

As for improving spirit... would he have to read books?

Still, Samwell did not feel discouraged. Even if this attribute panel could not directly assign points, merely quantifying his three attributes was already immensely useful.

He could try various methods, observe the changes in his attribute values, and develop a path of improvement best suited to himself.

For example, with the swordsmanship passed down by House Tarly that he was currently practicing, Samwell could use feedback from his attribute values to streamline it and even improve it.

Besides, even if he could not assign points directly now, that might not remain true in the future.

Samwell guessed that once he developed a territory and granted lands to some vassals, this attribute panel would likely undergo new changes. Perhaps then he would be able to assign points.

Just as his imagination ran wild and he was brimming with ambition, footsteps suddenly sounded behind him.

Samwell turned and saw a maid approaching. She said respectfully,

"Ser Caesar, the steward sent me to remind you that the dinner banquet will begin at six o'clock sharp in the banquet hall of the main keep."

"Good." Samwell rose and instructed her, "Prepare hot water for me. I want to bathe."

"Yes."