"Enough!" A stern voice cut through the heated exchange, not Richard's but 'Red-eye's, who had followed Richard over.
With a loud thud, 'Red-eye' dismounted, the heavy clank of his armor echoing with each step as he approached the shouting helper.
His eyes, already inflamed with conjunctivitis, now seemed to glow with an intense fury, red enough to send a chill down anyone's spine.
Drawing closer, Red-Eye barked in a commanding tone, "That's enough! What are you, just a lowly helper in this caravan? Baron's man hired you to haul cargo, not to laze about. The Baron paid for your services, not for your leisure. We've been on the road for days, even crossed into Baron Lancaster's territory risking our necks for your safety. And what do you do? No thanks, just daily delays! Are you trying to get us all killed? Now, get back to your carriage and move along quietly, or I'll make sure you regret it worse than any dog!"
"You!" The helper initially recoiled at Red Eye's admonishment, but his fear quickly turned into indignation.
"You call us trash? You call us vermin? Damn peasant, we're from Muren, seen more than you ever will! Sure, the caravan took your money, but that doesn't mean you own our lives! We're human too, we decide how far we march, when we eat, drink, rest, and sleep!"
Richard watched the confrontation unfold with a mix of concern and assessment, his expression unreadable yet observant.
The tension hung thick in the air, as the clash of wills between Red-Eye and the outspoken helper threatened to escalate.
"I don't care whether you've traveled four days to support us; what does it matter to us? You volunteered! You've been on the road for eight days, so what? Do you want us to kneel? Let me tell you, no matter what, we must rest today."
The words of the assistant were met with nods of agreement from everyone in the caravan.
But Red Eye was furious. Seeing the assistant not only disobedient but also defiant, he exploded in anger.
In the next moment, he roared and stepped forward, grabbing the assistant by the neck and lifting him up.
His eyes blazing red, he said, "Do you want to die? I can make that happen!"
Watching Red Eye's actions, the members of the caravan frowned slightly, exchanged glances, and slowly began to surround them.
They were ready to snatch the assistant away if Red Eye didn't let go.
However, Red Eye was oblivious, using all his strength to choke the assistant, trying to snap his neck.
At this moment, Richard, who had been silent for a while, suddenly spoke. With a commanding voice that brooked no refusal, he ordered, "Red Eye, let go!"
Upon hearing Richard's emotionless command, Red Eye's body trembled. Subconsciously, he released his grip.
The assistant, nearly strangled to death, fell to the ground with a thud, coughing up viscous saliva, tears streaming from his eyes, and mucus dripping from his nose.
Gasping for air violently at first, he wiped his face incredulously and pointed at Red Eye, shouting to the caravan, "He... he tried to kill me just now! He really tried to kill me!"
The caravan members, understanding the situation perfectly, furrowed their brows.
Though they didn't show it overtly, their perception of Richard and the First Guard team had clearly shifted.
Meanwhile, Red Eye, now cooled from his rage, looked at the hostile gazes of the caravan members and suddenly realized the gravity of his actions.
In the next moment, he looked up, somewhat frightened, at Richard, and trembled as he said, "Master Richard, I... I was wrong."
"Where were your fault?" Richard asked coldly, his eyes narrowed.
"I... I shouldn't have acted impulsively," Red Eye replied.
"No," Richard shook his head.
"I... I shouldn't have cursed," Red Eye tried again.
"Still wrong," Richard continued to shake his head, his eyes squinting.
Red Eye became increasingly fearful, his throat dry, his mind racing.
He now understood some things clearly and was desperately trying to give the right answer: "I... I shouldn't have acted just now. I fell into that damned assistant's trap, provoked everyone's anger, and affected your affairs, Master Richard."
After saying this, Red Eye nervously looked at Richard.
What chilled him to the core was Richard shaking his head again, pronouncing like a verdict, "Still not right." With that, Richard's eyes narrowed further, sending shivers down Red Eye's spine.
As one of the longest-serving members of the First Guard team, Red Eye knew very well that Richard's current demeanor was the most dangerous.
He had seen this expression when a few foolish members of the First Guard team were dealt with in the past.
And now...
"No! No! No!" Red Eye screamed inwardly, wanting to reach for the sword at his back, but he lacked the courage to act.
Under Richard's scrutinizing gaze, he felt his body gradually freezing, his blood turning to ice.
"Master Richard... I..." Red Eye struggled desperately to cling to hope of survival.
Once again, Richard shook his head, then...
"You dare to cut off Pascal's tongue, you... damn!" Emi shouted in anger, swinging his wooden staff with all her might, aiming it towards Richard.
But in the next moment, Richard's body moved strangely, and the staff fell on empty air.
This...
As Emi stood in confusion, a cold light flashed through the air.
The plain longsword from Richard's sheath was drawn for the third time, swiftly stopping at Emi's throat, barely piercing the skin.
The sharp blade drew blood from Emi's skin, causing her to tremble all over, afraid to move, fearing Richard's sword might advance further.
The caravan members were stunned by this sudden turn.
Before they could react, Tukku had already drawn his knightly sword, leading the First Guard team to menacingly surround them.
If Richard gave the order, they would strike without hesitation.
Even Red Eye, injured but defiant, struggled to his feet, eyeing everyone with hostility.
The atmosphere in the scene froze to suffocating levels. Not a soul in the caravan dared to move, fearing imminent disaster.
Melissa stood dumbfounded, staring at Richard, replaying in her mind the swift motion with which Richard had drawn his sword to control Emi.
After a long while, Melissa spoke in a barely audible voice, "Quick..."
Just then, the elder Mura returned, visibly shaken by the scene.
Despite not knowing exactly what had transpired, his decades of business acumen allowed him to read the situation well.
Moments later, Mura earnestly addressed Richard, "Respected Master Richard, I don't know what offense the caravan has caused you, but please, exercise your magnanimity. If there's any loss on your part, the Wisteria Trading Company will compensate fully. We can waive the payment for this shipment, as a gesture."
"No need," Richard replied calmly, slowly moving his sword, causing Emi's throat to bleed from the shallow cut, but not fatally.
"In truth, this is not a significant matter. It's merely someone attempting to undermine me, causing trouble for the sake of shortening our daily journey. Childish and absurd," Richard continued, his face devoid of any amusement, a sentiment shared by everyone present.
The First Guard team members glared ominously, while the caravan folks were filled with dread.
The assistant, tongue cut off, whimpered in pain, Emi, facing deathly pale, remained silent, and Melissa stood frozen.
"We've discussed the daily march distance before, and as caravan manager, you agreed to sixty miles a day. It's well within your capabilities. However, I'm not entirely inflexible. If there are genuine issues, we can discuss adjustments," Richard stated calmly.
"However, causing trouble today was unnecessary. I detest unnecessary disruptions because I have many important matters to attend to. But I am not afraid of trouble. If someone insists on causing trouble for me, I will oblige and teach a lesson to all troublemakers—be they insiders or outsiders."
Mura was at a loss for words.
"Rest assured, Mura. I won't kill anyone right now. Not because I fear, but considering there are ill-intentioned people around whom you may not be aware of. I'm concerned that killing your people could lead to significant conflict between your caravan and my First Guard team, resulting in mutual suspicion and internal strife, which I don't want to see before the goods reach the castle," Richard reassured, his tone steady.
"That's... good," Mura breathed a sigh of relief, repeatedly praising, "Master Richard understands reason, Master Richard understands reason."
"Well, that concludes today's matter. I hope you can make up for the delay before nightfall. Since we agreed on sixty miles a day previously, plus some unwelcome threats, the caravan must cover an additional twenty miles today and camp by a riverbank plateau twenty miles ahead. That's all," Richard nodded slightly at Mura and withdrew his sword, mounting his horse and leaving, followed closely by the First Guard team.
Once the First Guard team had departed completely, the caravan members breathed a collective sigh of relief.
The assistant, tongueless, rushed towards Mura, gesturing vehemently towards Emi, making "mmm..." sounds, as if trying to convey something.
Emi, however, sat down heavily on the ground, then gingerly touched the wound on his neck.
Finding it not fatal, just bleeding slightly, she breathed a sigh of relief and then turned his head to look towards Melissa, who seemed to awaken from a daze, but quickly avoided Emi's gaze, turned swiftly, and ran towards the last carriage of the convoy.
Emi froze instantly.
Then, the next moment, he was knocked down by the assistant who rushed up in anger.
His face and eye sockets were hit hard.
Struggling to his feet, Emi watched as the assistant was pulled away by the caravan folks.
Mura, the caravan manager, looked meaningfully over, but said nothing.
He just shook his head, sighed almost imperceptibly, then turned and walked away.
Emi froze again.
...
In the distance, the members of the First Guard slowly halted by the roadside.
Red-Eye, mounted on his horse, was clutching his wound, blood steadily flowing.
"Get down," Tukku called out, swiftly assisting Red-Eye off his horse along with Hughes. They proceeded to remove Red-Eye's armor, preparing to dress his wound.
Tukku, unaware of how Red-Eye was injured, curiously asked as he dismantled the armor, "Red-Eye, how did you get hurt by those Muren people? Their shoddy weapons managed to pierce through your armor?"
"Not by the Muren people, it was Master Richard," Red-Eye lowered his head, his tone tinged with shame.
"I didn't heed Master Richard's words, so..."
The air suddenly grew quiet. Tukku and Hughes halted their movements simultaneously, while other members of the First Guard also turned to listen.
Over a minute later, after hearing Red-Eye's explanation, Tukku visibly paused.
Without warning, before anyone could react, he delivered a fierce elbow strike directly into Red-Eye's mouth.
"Thunk!" Red-Eye spat out bloody saliva, along with a tooth.
"Red-Eye, your biggest problem is this mouth of yours. Learn your lesson!" Tukku snorted coldly, looking sternly at Red-Eye.
"This time Master Richard might have spared your life upon realizing someone was tracking us. You're lucky you're not dead. But next time won't be so forgiving. Behave yourself."
With that said, Tukku roughly tore off Red-Eye's clothes, took a piece of cloth from Hughes, and proceeded to bandage Red-Eye's wound.
Once done, they re-armored Red-Eye and helped him back onto his horse.
The First Guard resumed their journey. Red-Eye's eyes flickered, his gaze now tempered with less of his usual ferocity and more of a newfound calmness.