Mura, unable to overlook the situation, hurried over with a worried expression on his face and looked at Richard helplessly.
"Mr. Richard, please be more understanding. It's not that I didn't want to set off earlier. It's just that the situation with this caravan is rather complicated, so..."
Rambling on, Mura explained for quite some time, but Richard simply said in an uncomplicated tone, "This won't set a precedent."
With that, he turned and led the team towards the front of the caravan, beginning their escort duty.
Mura stood dumbfounded in place, swallowing the rest of the explanations he had wanted to make.
He watched Richard ride ahead on his horse, his eyes flashing as he muttered almost imperceptibly, "This, seems a bit more than meets the eye."
"Uncle Mura, what are you standing around for? We need to hit the road! We're the Wisteria Merchant Guild, known for our efficiency. No time to waste, get on your horse!"
Melissa's voice suddenly rang out.
Mura snapped out of his daze, turning to see Melissa's unexpectedly serious expression, quite different from the young lady who had protested about breakfast that morning.
"Ah, yes, my mistake. I'll mount up right away," Mura chuckled wryly, quickly getting on his horse and leading the caravan forward.
He couldn't help shaking his head again.
\
The entire day passed with the caravan walking and resting, making slow progress of just over forty miles, squeezed out like toothpaste.
As dusk approached, the caravan stopped by the roadside, and the members bustled about setting up camp for the night.
Miss Melissa had spent the day sitting in the carriage, clearly still energetic.
Once the caravan halted, she immediately jumped down and began energetically directing everyone.
"Set up a tent here."
"Dig a trench here."
"And you"
But truth be told, Miss Melissa's instructions mostly caused chaos.
Richard, watching coldly from his horse on the road, finally rode up to Mura, who was actually directing the work.
Seeing Richard approach, Mura stopped his commands and greeted him, "Mr. Richard, is there something you need?"
"It's nothing urgent, just wanted to tell you, the caravan's speed is a bit slow."
"Hmm?" Mura was taken aback.
Richard proceeded to explain, listing out figures: "According to recognized statistics, a normal person can walk 55 kilometers a day, with training, up to 70 kilometers."
"Considering your group's current physical condition, deduct 10 kilometers. With cargo and slow movements, deduct another 10 kilometers. Poor road conditions might slow you down another 10 kilometers. Finally, accounting for any other factors affecting travel, let's deduct another 10 kilometers. That means you should be covering at least 60 kilometers a day. Yet today, you've barely covered over 40 miles, just about two-thirds. At this rate, reaching our destination, Baron's Castle, will take half a month. Starting tomorrow, I want you to increase the daily distance."
Mura listened, initially bewildered, then reluctantly understood Richard's underlying dissatisfaction with the caravan's slow pace.
Wanting to explain further, Mura hesitated but held back his words, murmuring, "Understood, Mr. Richard. We'll increase our daily distance starting tomorrow."
"I hope your caravan can meet my minimum expectation of 60 kilometers," Richard pressed.
"I'll do my best."
"It's not about doing your best, it's about achieving it."
"Well, alright." Mura hesitated briefly before agreeing.
"Very well, goodbye." Richard nodded and turned to oversee the others, directing them to set up camp.
As Tuku hammered nails into the ground while looking unkindly at the caravan members, he commented to Richard.
"Hmph, just a moment ago we hadn't even stopped, and they decided to camp on their own. I really don't know whether they're making money off us, or we're making money off them!"
"Regardless of who's making money off whom, my only goal is to get what I want safely at Black Castle. Their slow progress is indeed a problem, but I've already spoken with their overseer. As for you, Tuku, don't cause trouble. You should understand, I dislike complications," Richard said.
"But, my master..." Tuku started to say something, but when he turned to see Richard's expressionless face, he abruptly stopped.
He knew well that when Richard wore such a expression, it was dangerous. If he insisted on making different demands, it would often end badly.
Tuku knew that when the First Guard was established, it was not just ten people, but twelve, or even more.
However, when he joined, there were only twelve people left, and later, only ten, "understood the situation" of ten people.
The fewer people left were also due to doing the wrong thing at the wrong time.
Thinking of this, Tuku, nodded firmly and looked seriously at Richard: "I understand, Master, I promise not to cause trouble, I promise!"
"That's good." Richard nodded, then looked at the others, "and you guys."
"Yes." The voices were neatly aligned.
Then, the girl's voice, which was not fully out of immaturity, sounded, and Richard looked past to see the little maid, Lucy, clenching her fists seriously, "Young Master, I won't make trouble either."
Richard couldn't help but smile and said, "Alright, forget it."
"Why? I'm very obedient," Lucy widened her eyes, trying to prove herself.
Richard shook his head, unwilling to argue further.
He simply said, "Fine, even if you're obedient. Since you are, help me fetch the scroll of parchment with yesterday's writing. Also, fetch the goose feather quill and ink, they're on that stone over there."
"Why, master, are you preparing to do research again?" Lucy asked.
"Yes," Richard nodded briefly, without elaborating. He walked over to a nearby flat stone, unfolded the scroll of parchment Lucy handed him, and began writing as he contemplated, continuing his research on achieving delayed detonation for explosive fireballs, aiming to enhance their destructive force through simultaneous explosions.
Time was precious, and even during the escort mission, Richard was unwilling to waste any.