After the canonization ceremony ended, Margaery left in a hurry.
Dickon was also driven away by his father.
In the now-empty knight hall, only Earl Landau and Samwell Caesar remained.
Father and son faced each other in silence, the atmosphere somewhat stagnant.
Samwell was eager to return and study his attribute panel, so he took the initiative and spoke first:
"Father, you kept me here—what else do you need to explain?"
"You hate me." Earl Landau suddenly said as he looked at his eldest son.
Without waiting for Samwell's reply, he continued:
"You don't need to argue. I don't care."
The corner of Samwell's mouth twitched, and he simply stopped talking.
Earl Randall looked at the suddenly unfamiliar son before him. Complicated emotions stirred in his heart, yet his tone remained as cold as ever:
"If a hunter returns empty-handed, his family will starve; if a lord is defeated, his castle will be burned. For thousands of years, how many families in Westeros have disappeared into the long river of time, all because of a cowardly and incompetent heir.
"The Tully family of the frontier needs a lord who can wield [Broken Heart] to kill enemies, yet you are not even qualified to touch it.
"So no matter how much you hate me, I will never hand the fate of the family over to you."
Samwell listened quietly, but there was actually not much resentment in his heart.
Because the original owner had never met Earl Landau's standards for an heir. Even after transmigrating and trying to change, it had been too late.
But all of that was in the past.
After the canonization ceremony, he had changed his surname to Caesar. From now on, everything about the Tully family had nothing to do with him.
At that moment, Earl Landau suddenly threw something toward his son.
Samwell caught it reflexively. Looking down, he realized it was a large bag filled with Golden Dragon Coins!
"Since you voluntarily gave up your right of inheritance, this is what you deserve," Earl Randall explained calmly.
"Thank you, Father!" Samwell naturally did not refuse—he was in urgent need of funds at this stage.
"In addition, before your departure, your equestrian instructor, James, has been slaughtered by me."
Samwell was shocked when he heard this, but immediately afterward, he understood—
This James must have been the one behind his previous horse-riding accident!
He had been discovered by his father and killed!
"No matter how useless you are, you are still the eldest son of the Tully family! Even if punishment is to be carried out, it should be done by my own hand!" Earl Landau said domineeringly.
Samwell lowered his head in silence, emotions churning within him.
No matter what, his father had avenged him.
After a moment of silence, Earl Landau spoke again:
"Sam, do you still remember our words?"
Samwell nodded.
"First in Battle."
The words had barely left his mouth when he understood why Earl Landau had been so determined to change heirs. It had clearly been impossible for the original owner to practice the Tully family's words.
Earl Randall's expression softened slightly.
"Although you no longer carry the name Tully, I still hope you will remember this sentence.
"Conspiracies and lies may win political victories, but when it comes to deciding supremacy on the battlefield, our Tully family has the final say.
"Since you had the courage to accept this development order, it means the blood of the Tully family still flows in your veins after all. Remember this motto—it is far more useful than money when developing difficult territory."
Samwell nodded solemnly, warmth rising in his heart.
But immediately, Earl Landau's next words were like ice water poured over him:
"But if you fail to open up the land, don't return to Horn Hill. Otherwise, I will personally cut off your head!"
With that, Earl Randyll turned around and left.
Samwell stood there with a complicated expression, watching his father's tall figure gradually fade into the distance. In the end, he shook his head, laughed softly, and rolled his eyes as well.
…
In a garden filled with blooming flowers, Samwell was gripping a long silver sword, repeatedly practicing thrusts against a target made of iron oak.
Unfortunately, his bloated figure was anything but graceful, and it severely affected his movement speed. Before long, his footwork became chaotic.
Even so, Samwell did not give up and stubbornly persisted.
It wasn't until the sun was about to set and his clothes were completely soaked through that he finally stopped.
Dragging his exhausted body, Samwell walked to the steps and sat down, picked up a water cup, and took several gulps.
After catching his breath, he focused intently on his attribute panel.
He could see that the data above had barely changed. Only agility had increased from 0.52 to 0.53.
It seemed his guess was correct—training could indeed change attribute values.
But the change was not very obvious.
After an entire afternoon of thrust practice, agility had only increased by 0.01, while strength and spirit remained unchanged.
Perhaps it wasn't that they hadn't changed, but that the change was too small to be reflected numerically.
After all, the values on the attribute panel were only accurate to two decimal places.
The reason agility changed the most was likely because its original value was too low, making it easier to improve.
Samwell guessed that the three attributes of a normal adult should be around 1. Because he was extremely obese, his agility value differed the most from that of ordinary people.
His strength attribute was slightly higher than normal. After all, with low strength, it would be impossible to move such a massive body. As for his highest value, it was spirit—1.12.
Samwell felt this might be related to the original owner's natural intelligence and fondness for reading.
Among the three attributes on the panel, strength and agility were easy to understand, but Samwell was a little uncertain about the last one—spirit.
He suspected that the spirit value might be connected to the legendary magic that had already faded from the world.
After all, this was a magical world. Dragons, White Walkers, Children of the Forest, sorcerers, and gods old and new all existed…
Although these magical beings were either extinct or reduced to legends, and miracles might not appear in Westeros for a very long time, as the long summer came to an end and winter approached, the game of power would begin anew. Things belonging to the mysterious side would gradually recover.
Perhaps when one's spirit value reached a certain level, the door to the mysterious side could be opened.
But here lay another problem—Samwell had not found any way to add points directly.
Relying solely on knightly training methods, he could indeed increase strength and agility, but the speed was far too slow.
Moreover, as those two values increased, improvement would become even slower and more difficult.
As for improving spirit… was he supposed to just read books?
However, Samwell did not feel frustrated. Even if this attribute panel could not directly add points, simply digitizing his three attributes was already extremely useful.
Because by experimenting with various methods and observing changes in attribute values, he could research a set of improvement techniques best suited to himself.
Just like the swordsmanship he was currently practicing, inherited from the Tully family—through feedback from the attribute values, Samwell could streamline it and even perfect it.
Moreover, although it was impossible to add points directly right now, that might not always be the case in the future.
Samwell guessed that once he opened up a territory and canonized some vassals, this attribute panel would likely undergo new changes. At that time, he might be able to add points.
Just as he was lost in thought and feeling rather pleased with himself, footsteps suddenly sounded behind him.
Samwell turned his head and saw a maid approaching. She said respectfully:
"Sir Caesar, the butler sent me to remind you that dinner will begin promptly at six o'clock, in the banquet hall of the main castle."
"Alright." Samwell stood up and gave an order. "Prepare hot water for me. I want to take a bath."
"Yes, sir."
(End of this chapter)