Chapter 11 – Growth
"Oi, Bronn—how's the boy?"
Tyrion eased his horse up alongside the sellsword, his tone oddly casual for such a pointed question.
Bronn, however, seemed to understand exactly whom he meant. He blinked, then glanced instinctively toward the rear of the column.
"A surprise… or rather, a fright."
"If he truly is twelve, like you told me—then his strength, reflexes, speed… even that instinct to fight, that will to fight—are beyond what a boy his age should have."
Bronn clicked his tongue, expression strange.
"Honestly… those reasons alone are enough. He's a natural."
He looked back at the boy riding a short distance behind them—slumped in the saddle, eyes dazed, swaying with exhaustion.
"And more than that, he's tougher than I expected. Feels like he was… born to fight."
And last night, for a moment… he almost frightened me—even though he's still not my match.
That last thought Bronn kept to himself. But he wasn't the sort of man who could hide much on his face, and a trace of it escaped in his expression.
Tyrion gave him a curious glance, but didn't press.
"Oh? That's more praise than I expected. When my father forced a squire upon me, I thought it was some cruel joke at my expense."
He looked back at Podrick, bouncing gently atop a dapple-brown horse, head bobbing like he might fall asleep at any moment.
Perhaps it was an illusion, but Tyrion could've sworn the lad looked a little taller than he had yesterday.
…No. Definitely his imagination.
Bronn's eyes glinted, and he let out a quiet, knowing snort.
"The truth is, your father misjudged him. All he needed was a chance. And, lucky him, you gave it."
"Oh? Then it seems I got the better end of the deal. A rare thing when dealing with my father. That alone is worth celebrating."
The quip came with a wry smile—but the smile faded just as quickly.
Silence settled between them—a dwarf and a lean sellsword, each sinking briefly into his own thoughts.
Meanwhile, the subject of their conversation was lost in his own world as well.
Podrick sat in his saddle, eyelids drooping, vision unfocused, fighting to stay alert. His gaze drifted to the translucent panel only he could see.
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[Name: Podrick Payne]
Age: 12
Level: 12 (69 / 780 EXP)
Status: Noble · Squire
Unassigned Attribute Points: 2
Strength: 6 → 7 +
Agility: 4 → 5 → 6 +
Constitution: 5 (+1) → 8 (+1.6) +
Intelligence: 8 +
Perception: 5 +
Charisma: 7 (Special)
Luck: 9 (Special)
State: Confused, Moderately Fatigued
---
Staring at the numbers, Podrick couldn't help focusing on Strength and Agility, confusion flickering in his eyes.
His Strength and Agility had increased by one point each that morning—without him allocating any points.
He still had both unassigned attribute points untouched.
So… how had those stats gone up?
He had only invested three points into Constitution and one into Agility himself. That should total four.
Yet his attributes had risen by six.
There was only one explanation he could come up with:
Training… or natural physical growth.
"So, with proper training—or just by growing up—my attributes can increase naturally…"
"But compared to assigning points, natural growth is slower, inconsistent… and unpredictable. And even if training can raise my stats, it'll take long-term effort."
He shifted uncomfortably in the saddle.
"And when my base attributes get higher… growth will probably slow to a crawl. Maybe even stop altogether."
"In other words, I can't rely on this. Not as a strategy."
His gaze slid toward the Skills column:
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[Animal Handling: Lv2 (33 / 300)]
[Riding: Lv3 (224 / 600)]
[Swordsmanship: Lv3 (103 / 600)]
[Spearmanship: Lv2 (61 / 300)]
[Unarmed Combat: Lv3 (58 / 600)]
[Weapon Maintenance: Lv1 (91 / 100)]
[Trash Talk: Lv2 (32 / 300)]
---
"At some point… the real key won't be stats. It'll be skills—and how to evolve them. That's how I'll break past my limits."
His fingers tightened slightly on the reins.
The road north was long.
But now, he could see—clearer than ever—how to climb.
Nine days had passed since Podrick's first training session with Bronn.
In that time, not only had his level and attributes risen, but he had also gained five new skills. Compared to the bare-bones panel he had started with, it finally looked… presentable. No longer like an empty, unfurnished hut.
As for how he had grown so quickly in such a short span—
The answer was simple:
War was coming.
Podrick knew the story. He knew the Battle of the Green Fork was just ahead.
And before that battle arrived, he needed enough strength to keep himself alive—
not rely on luck or the whims of fate.
Because the moment he transmigrated, history had already begun to change.
What lay before him now was no longer a scripted plot—it was reality.
So, to survive, Podrick had no choice but to use every minute he had to push himself to the limit.
To the point he slept no more than three hours a day.
And that brutal grind yielded results.
More than 2,500 EXP in nine days—
enough to take him from Lv6 to Lv12 in one leap.
A harsh but honest embodiment of:
you reap what you sow.
Of the six free attribute points he earned from leveling, he spent only one on Agility—on the night of his first training with Bronn.
The remaining three he invested into Constitution.
Not only because his [Tenacity] specialization made Constitution the most efficient stat to allocate into—
but because, with the pace he was pushing his body, he needed the extra durability simply to avoid breaking himself.
Podrick still didn't know the limits of his golden finger.
But he did know the limits of his human body.
Unless… he stopped being human.
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