After a well-deserved break, Edmure restarted his training with a intensity that bordered on the fanatical. Within a week, he could easily defeat Grell in open combat. Seeing their young heir so capable, the elder Lord Grell took over the training personally. Edmure deliberately slowed his pace, attempting to fight without using his perks. This was his best opportunity to learn how the legends of previous generations fought before he could seek out the old guards of past wars. For the next few days, Edmure mimicked everything about Lord Grell: his posture, his manner of speech, and the courtly etiquette of consoling a defeated enemy.
"Edmure, you are already half as good a fighter as my uncle," Grell remarked. "There is no need to copy my uncle. He grumbles to me in private about it. Lord Tully won't like it if his son is aping someone else."
Now seeing Edmure as his equal in might, Grell started chatting relentlessly, sharing tales of the best taverns in the realm, which lords had made fools of themselves in tourneys, and which noblewomen had the most admirers.
"I don't do it to mess with the old man," Edmure replied. "Dark times are ahead. In just a year, the entirety of Westeros will be embroiled in chaos. It won't be a Dance of the Dragons, but it will be worse. In that Targaryen civil war, one could at least be reassured that some Targaryen would be clear-headed enough to stop the killing. But not this time. The Targaryen family is at its lowest point, with only two adult males controlling the Seven Realms. Imagine if something were to happen to one or both?"
Instead of directly admitting his father's participation in the upcoming rebellion, Edmure simply explained common knowledge with deliberate framing.
"Seven help us!" Grell exclaimed. "Even if the Crown wins every battle, as long as something happens to the King or the Prince, the vultures will start roaming. Each will try to take a piece out of the Targaryen blood."
Edmure wasn't being smart, but the implication of information revealed by the heir showed that others had started sharpening their swords. Half the wars in a feudal polity start at the family dinner table.
"I don't care about the rest of Westeros," Edmure continued. "But guess whose realm sits in the middle of everything? No matter what, we are the fat meat to be shared. Unless there is a clear winner and House Tully has been absolutely loyal from the start. This further assumes they will honor their promises after coming to power. Something which I will never bet upon. Never assume basic decency in others, and never trust that their greed has any limit."
Edmure was pragmatic first, and possibly good later. Probably.
"Shall we try to muster more men?" Grell asked. "Surely not all are coming for Riverrun specifically. As long as we're ready to shed power in the outer regions and increase control in the heartlands, they won't push us too hard."
Grell decided to save Riverrun first and worry about the wider Riverlands later.
"If we try that, our own vassals will rebel," Edmure countered. "We're already weaker than many. Trying to usurp their power base here will result in backlash. Even the cowards of House Frey would start marching against us. But you are partly right. Father and I are discussing measures to keep Riverrun absolutely safe. From the chaos of wider Westeros, from our own vassals, and from Lord Tywin Lannister. The Lion of Casterly Rock would love to pick up easy prey to sharpen his teeth."
For Edmure, with his knowledge of the TV show the coming war was not a personal threat. The Edmure of the show survived the political fallout, and so could he. But the problem will arose when he tries to grow stronger; no one wanted to see that. Not Robert, who was a pretender. Not Tywin, who wanted to solidify the Lannisters as the greatest house. Not the Tyrells with their massive army. Even the Starks and Arryns wouldn't want to lose an easy foraging ground in wartime, let alone the Greyjoys, who thought they should be Kings of the Rivers and Isles without the threat of dragons.
Edmure thought for a while and continued, "In such a case, I hope to use my personal prowess as a convenient shield for the Riverlands. The plan is not flawless, but it has the least cost and best potential returns. Everyone—knights, kings, and princes—wants glory. They don't just want to win battles; they want to be seen wielding their swords and dueling the greatest foes. They want to show the world that Westeros still has men who dare to fight titans. I am willing to bet on a commander stopping the march of an entire army just to respond to a duel. Perhaps the stakes are so high that the battle won't be decided by the duel, but pausing an army for a few hours? That is entirely plausible. In that hour, I hope our muster will reach there to face them in battle."
"My lord, I admit you are a better fighter than I," Grell said. "But do you truly think you can defeat those in the Kingsguard? They are the best fighters of our times: Ser Selmy, Ser Dayne, Ser Connington, Ser Gerold Hightower, Ser Oswell Whent. Not to mention Prince Rhaegar and many others who will flock to save the kingdom. Baratheons, Starks, Martells, Tyrells, Lannisters—all will place bets on both sides."
Grell was convinced Edmure was saving his strength, knowing that even three of him couldn't defeat the heir.
"I'll tell you a secret," Edmure said. "I can defeat two of your uncle and maybe a dozen of you. I think even now, I'm stronger than the names on that list. They might have tricks, but in less than a month, it won't matter. I grow at a ridiculous speed, and I have no limits."
Edmure laughed at his over-preparedness, leaving the Master-at-Arms bewildered. He checked his combat stats:
[Archery: 14] [Swords: 9] [Shields: 14]
His reflexes and strength were at peak human levels. With his Shield perk at Level 10, his skin was as tough as the hide of a large animal. Adding his other perks, he could already be called an invincible duelist. To account for uncertainties, he would wait another month before starting his tour around the realm to prove his mettle.