Ghost Grass

"Give you enough meat and a month, and could you train a hundred dockworkers to this level?"

Faced with Todd's question, Carter hemmed and hawed for a long while, not daring to give an affirmative answer.

He had trained temporarily conscripted recruits before and naturally understood how difficult it was.

But after a moment, Carter still stubbornly said:

"So what? They're still no match for us! Give me six or seven brothers, and with a single charge, I could scatter these recruits!"

Todd could not even be bothered to argue with that.

He clearly remembered that when Samwell had first recruited these men, Carter had looked disdainful and claimed that, armed and armored, he alone could scatter all hundred of them.

Yet after only one short month, he needed six or seven brothers to help him.

Todd wondered how many regular soldiers Carter would need to lead once they reached the Red Mountains before he felt confident of defeating these recruits.

Truthfully, Todd very much wanted to ask Samwell for advice on training soldiers, but he feared it might be a secret art of House Tarly, so he could only observe from the sidelines in secret.

And while secretly learning, Todd noticed something else.

Samwell himself seemed to be improving physically at an extraordinary rate.

When they had first left Highgarden, Samwell had been such a fat man that even mounting a horse was difficult. But after a month, though he was still fat, he was no longer as bloated as before.

At the beginning of the "military training," Samwell had mostly given orders and only occasionally joined in. Before long, he would be exhausted. But now, he could actually keep up with the recruits and complete the entire training regimen alongside them. Such progress was astonishing.

This only made Todd more convinced that Samwell's reputation as a useless fool had been an act, and that all that fat had been deliberately put on. He was merely undergoing recovery training now, which was why he had progressed so quickly.

At this thought, Todd's expression darkened further.

The recruits' training did not end until noon.

This had become the marching routine Samwell had established along the way: training for the entire morning, then two hours of rest after lunch before setting out at a leisurely pace. After nightfall, they would make camp, eat and drink their fill, rest briefly, then continue with night training.

It was precisely because of this that after an entire month, they had covered less than half the total distance.

Todd had proposed increasing their marching speed several times, but Samwell had rejected him every time.

This "timid" pioneering knight insisted on training these recruits into qualified warriors before entering the Red Mountains.

"I say he simply doesn't dare go pioneer new lands, which is why he's dawdling all the way!" Carter complained in Todd's ear again. "Once he runs out of money, he'll have an excuse to abandon this operation. Hmph! Just as expected of House Tarly's cowardly good-for-nothing!"

Todd said nothing.

Seeing this, Carter could not help adding, "Lord Todd, are you really just going to watch?"

Todd replied irritably, "What else can I do? Hold a sword to his neck and force him to march?"

Carter lowered his voice. "That's not impossible..."

Todd turned around and narrowed his eyes at his attendant.

Carter cleared his throat and explained:

"I mean, we could frighten that fat man a little and make him obey."

Todd withdrew his gaze and lowered his head in silence.

He neither approved nor rejected his attendant's suggestion.

Wisps of cooking smoke rose from the camp, while the rich aroma of meat drifted through the air.

The recruits who had just finished training sat cross-legged on the ground. Though exhausted, their faces were full of smiles.

There was meat to eat, so of course they were happy.

In truth, the past month or so had felt unreal to these recruits.

What they had expected to be an unbearably arduous pioneering expedition had instead become the happiest journey of their lives.

Of course, the daily training was grueling, but they were dockworkers by trade and had long been accustomed to hard labor. Besides, there was meat to eat every day here. No matter how hard it was, it was worth it.

They increasingly felt that following Lord Caesar on this pioneering expedition had been the wisest decision of their lives.

But they did not know that Lord Caesar himself was troubled.

Of course, Samwell was not worried about money. Though his pioneering funds were indeed nearly exhausted, he believed House Tyrell would never stand by and watch this expedition end without result.

They had already sent out a hundred elite soldiers. Would they really begrudge such a small amount of Gold Dragons?

What truly troubled Samwell was his attribute panel.

After more than a month, his attribute panel had changed greatly:

Samwell Caesar

Title: Pioneering Knight

Territory: None

Vassals: None

Strength: 1.22

Agility: 0.73

Spirit: 1.12

Both his strength and agility had improved substantially. His strength in particular had risen fastest with the help of Golden-Tailed Shrimp.

Naturally, it had also cost quite a bit of money.

Half the reason he had run into financial trouble so quickly was that he fed the recruits meat every day, but the other half was because his own mouth had not stopped either.

There was no need to mention Golden-Tailed Shrimp. As long as any were available, he bought them no matter how expensive they were.

And whenever they reached a town, Samwell had Gavin scour the place for all kinds of food, hoping to find something like Golden-Tailed Shrimp that could improve his attributes.

Yet they found nothing.

Along the way, Samwell had sampled every kind of strange food imaginable. He had even forced himself to swallow such horrifying dishes as snails, lizards, silkworm pupae, and more, but none of them had any effect.

Worse still, he discovered that after his strength attribute exceeded 1.20, the effect of Golden-Tailed Shrimp had actually been halved!

Yes, he clearly remembered that after his strength reached 1.20, the first Golden-Tailed Shrimp he ate had produced no reaction at all. Only after eating a second did it rise to 1.21.

The additional 0.01 strength afterward had been the result of three days of grueling military training.

This change made Samwell miserable, and he could foresee that as his strength continued to rise, the boost from Golden-Tailed Shrimp would likely diminish further.

His agility, on the other hand, had increased rather quickly despite his failure to find any cheat-like food.

That was probably because it had started low and was easier to improve. In addition, the increase in strength likely had a secondary effect.

After all, by normal logic, greater strength naturally led to some improvement in speed.

And now that his weight loss was proving quite effective, his movements would certainly become more nimble.

Still, as his agility attribute continued to rise, it would probably become just as difficult to improve as strength in the future.

As for spirit, it had not changed at all over the past month.

But Samwell was not in a hurry to improve his spirit for now. Daenerys's three dragons had yet to hatch, and the mystical side of this world was still dormant. Even if he improved his spirit, it probably would not be of much use.

For now, improving strength and agility would be far more helpful in increasing his combat power.

With that thought, Samwell silently repeated, I am a heartless eating machine, as he numbly stuffed the various strange foods Gavin had purchased into his mouth.

As all kinds of bizarre flavors churned and surged across his tongue, Samwell's expression became increasingly lifeless.

But before long, his eyes suddenly lit up!

"Gavin!"

"My lord, did you call for me?"

"What is this grass called?" Samwell asked urgently, holding a wild herb that was silver-white from stem to leaf.

For he had just discovered, to his astonishment, that after eating this wild herb, his spirit attribute had actually increased by 0.01!

Though it was not the strength or agility he had hoped for most, Samwell certainly would not pass up food capable of improving his spirit attribute.

"My lord, this is called Ghost Grass."