Guidance in Swordsmanship

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Seemingly aware of her intentions, Gavin spoke softly, "If you encounter any problems, you can write to me. Letters won't hinder our exchange of ideas."

The two conversed quietly for a long while until the banquet came to an end.

Margaery, walking with light and graceful steps, headed toward the tower where her grandmother lived.

Climbing the stairs, she gently knocked on the old wooden door. Once she heard permission to enter, she slowly pushed it open and stepped inside.

Within the room, an elderly woman with a frail figure came into view. Olenna, her hair entirely silver, was small in stature and the scarf wrapped around her head only emphasized her dignified presence. Her face, marked by the passage of time, was deeply lined with wrinkles, yet her sharp, perceptive eyes seemed to see through everything. She was Olenna Tyrell, the Queen of Thorns.

Olenna cast a glance at Margaery and remarked, "Done with your mischief?"

Margaery smiled and playfully stuck out her tongue before walking over to the chair beside her grandmother, affectionately leaning against her shoulder.

Olenna continued, "When that foolish son of mine—your father—finally grows up, he'll likely indulge your nonsense too. But even if that young man is talented, your brother should be the one handling this matter. Now, tell me, why the sudden change of heart?"

Margaery quickly replied, her tone eager to explain, "He's an exceptionally skilled swordsman, and he's also offered a number of excellent suggestions for managing the estate effectively."

Olenna let out a cold snort and said, "The Sword of the Dawn was strong too, but he couldn't protect the Targaryens. As for the estate, the Tyrell family is far from lacking wealth. But you are the Jewel of Highgarden, and none of this is worth the loss of prestige that comes with personally granting him a title. Be honest, child."

Margaery felt a tightness in her chest upon hearing this, unsure of how to respond.

Olenna sighed helplessly and said, "I was young once too. A young man who excels in swordsmanship, is handsome, and knows how to charm with words can indeed be alluring. But in the end, we all make sacrifices for the family. Return to reason, my dear."

Seeing Margaery lower her head in silence, Olenna gently held her hand and spoke tenderly, "My child, one day you will marry a prince or a king and become a queen. That is your goal, not love."

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Gavin walked behind Edmund, the two of them making their way back toward the castle at a leisurely pace. The night was calm and clear, the moon casting a soft glow over the landscape, while a gentle breeze rustled the trees and whispered through the air, adding to the peaceful atmosphere.

Suddenly, two figures appeared ahead, moving toward Gavin. They were Randyll Tarly and his son, Dickon Tarly.

Randyll Tarly's expression was stern, his brows subtly furrowed as his gaze remained fixed straight ahead.

The tension in his facial muscles betrayed no hint of relaxation or warmth, giving him an air of cold severity and making him seem distant and unapproachable. In stark contrast, his son Dickon wore an expression of eagerness and anticipation.

Lord Tarly greeted Edmund with a calm demeanor. Edmund, puzzled, asked, "Lord Tarly, is there something amiss?"

Randyll Tarly shook his head and glanced at Dickon beside him. He replied flatly, "Forgive the intrusion, my Lord. I am here for my son, Dickon, who wishes to meet Ser Gavin."

Dickon quickly stepped forward, first bowing slightly to Edmund as a sign of respect. Then, with eyes full of hope, he turned to Gavin and said, "It is an honor to meet you, Ser Gavin. I had the privilege of watching your performance in the tournament. Might I trouble you to guide me in swordsmanship? I would be more than happy to offer compensation for your time."

Gavin frowned slightly, his expression tinged with regret, as he replied, "I'm afraid that's not possible, Dickton. After the tournament, I plan to travel abroad, and I won't have much time to spare."

Dickon, growing anxious, stomped his foot and quickly said, "Then could you instruct me for a short while before the tournament ends?"

Gavin paused for a moment, his gaze shifting to the side where Randyll stood, and calmly replied, "I can, but there's no need for a reward. I do have one request, though—if Lord Randyll is willing to agree, I'll be happy to help."

Randyll Tarly raised an eyebrow in surprise, then asked, "What request?"

Gavin spoke with utmost seriousness, "I've heard that the House Tarly ancestral sword, Heartsbane, is made of Valyrian steel. As someone who loves swords, I greatly admire this legendary blade. During my time teaching Dickon, I hope to be allowed to use Heartsbane."

Randyll nodded slightly, his face showing no emotion, but he gave a simple, approving reply, "Very well. Your skill with the sword has not dishonored my family's blade. You may come to my family's camp tomorrow to instruct my son."

"Then it's settled," Gavin said with a smile, bowing slightly.

In the camp, Gavin lay on his bed, letting out a sigh of relief as he opened his panel. Sure enough, his name had been changed to Gavin Belleris, and the panel was updated in real time.

He had requested to use the Heartsbane Sword to test whether the Valyrian steel blade contained magical power. If it did, he could add it to his list of search targets to gather energy points in the future.

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The next day, Gavin arrived early at the House Tarly camp. Randyll introduced him to his eldest son, Samwell Tarly, and expressed his hope that his son would also join the training. Without hesitation, Gavin agreed, and at last, he was handed the coveted Heartsbane.

The moment he grasped the sword, he felt the constant surge of magical energy within it, its intensity rivaling that of the dragonbone pendant.

He couldn't help but think, "It seems that besides dragonbone, Valyrian steel can also provide me with magic power." Gavin quickly assessed the absorption rate and realized that it would likely take seven or eight days of holding the sword to fully absorb the magic contained within it.

Determined to absorb the magic as quickly as possible, Gavin doubled the training hours for both students. The rigorous training left them drenched in sweat every day, but they dared not slacken in the slightest.

Randyll Tarly would occasionally stop by to observe the progress. After a few days, he noticed that Dickon's swordsmanship was improving at a noticeable rate.

Even Samwell, whom he had little hope for, though still retained his usual demeanor, had slimmed down considerably and was now able to wield a sword with some semblance of skill.

Randyll observed that Gavin's explanations were detailed and easy to understand, his training methods both strict and detailed.

He also noticed how invested Gavin was in teaching his sons, extending the lessons and showing an attitude of "I won't stop until they learn."

Randyll appreciated this dedication and, on several occasions, invited Gavin to dinner, sharing some of his leadership experience with him.

By the time the jousting tournament began, Gavin had accumulated 3 energy points. It seemed that the Valyrian steel sword, Heartsbane, could also slowly absorb surrounding magical energy, though at a slower pace. This discovery deepened Gavin's desire for a weapon made of Valyrian steel.

Among all the tournaments in Westeros, the jousting tournament always holds the highest prestige. Both the entry requirements and the expensive costs exclude common folk. The champion also earns the privilege of bestowing the title of "Queen of Love and Beauty" upon one of the ladies present at the event.

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[Chapter End's]

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