"How can this be? This horse kicked me just yesterday; how can it be so docile now?" Tuku asked incredulously.
"Perhaps something terrifying befell it last night," Richard replied softly, before smoothly mounting the horse and helping the maid Lucy onto its back.
The chestnut horse stood frozen in place, unwilling to move until Richard nudged its belly with his foot. Only then did it trot forward, timid as a frightened rabbit.
Tuku stared in confusion, ultimately attributing this behavior to yet another of Richard's mysterious abilities, similar to the time he managed to make a mound of flour explode. Shaking his head in bewilderment, Tuku mounted the white horse and led the group as they set off from the castle.
With a creak, the castle gates opened, and the drawbridge descended slowly. The group galloped out, kicking up a cloud of dust as they headed southwest, marking the beginning of their autumn outing.
This excursion was a small reward Richard had granted himself after expending much time and effort in successfully casting a spell, a means to loosen the tension that had gripped him for months.
Yet, even though the purpose of this outing was relaxation, Richard's agenda encompassed more than mere leisure. He had far too many pressing matters at hand to indulge in aimless entertainment.
Thus, throughout this autumn excursion, Richard also intended to engage in another activity—collecting plants and creating specimens.
This endeavor had begun many years ago, shortly after his birth fifteen years earlier when he recognized the illogical events unfolding in his life—a so-called "transmigration." He sought to understand one fundamental question: what was this world he had "traveled" to?
Was it another planet strikingly similar to Earth, or something wholly different?
Theoretically, even two remarkably similar planets, given their divergent formation processes, would exhibit significant differences in topography and structure. Variations in the internal core would likewise result in discrepancies in the types and concentrations of chemical elements in the crust.
That said, differences in geography, structure, and crustal elements, compounded by climate, environment, and the evolution of life, would yield vast discrepancies in plant species. Like the classic chain reaction in topology—the "butterfly effect"—wherein a butterfly flapping its wings in the Amazon rainforest could cause a tornado in Texas two weeks later, so too could a slight variation in angles during the planetary formation billions of years ago determine whether common weeds or entirely unknown species thrived on the surface today.
To unravel such essential mysteries, Richard had been continually gathering various plant species, crafting a multitude of specimens for reference. From over a decade past to the present, he had amassed thousands of samples. This time, he planned to further augment his collection.
Lost in thought, Richard led Tuku and the others as they rode for over two hours, arriving at a vast stretch of wasteland in the southwestern region of the barony.
Across the wasteland flowed a small creek, surrounded by an array of plants—some tall, some short, some green, others yellow, some flowering, others bearing fruit...
Dismounting, Richard wasted no time bending down to begin his foraging. Each time he fully harvested a plant, he would hand it to Lucy, who gently placed it in a flat wooden box, separating the specimens with linen cloth as they waited for later processing.
One plant, two plants, three plants...
To expedite the process, Richard encouraged Tuku and the others to assist. However, once the men eagerly began passing him the "broken branches and leaves" they gathered, Richard felt momentarily speechless. With a wave of his hand, he decided it best to rely on his own efforts.
The gathering continued...
Okra, Lycoris, Zinnia, Magnolia, Ryegrass, Purple Fescue...
As noon approached, Richard finally stood up, surveying the flat wooden box in Lucy's hands, now full to the brim, and concluded the harvesting.
Next came the urgent task of creating the specimens.
Because once collected, plants would quickly lose water and wilt; if not processed promptly, their forms would greatly alter, rendering them devoid of reference value.
With this in mind, Richard exhaled, about to speak, when a rustling sound emerged from the distance.
"Hmm?" As Richard's meditative practices increased, so too did his senses—heightened perceptions allowing him to see and hear more acutely than most.
The sound had originated nearly a hundred meters away, amidst the chorus of insects in the wasteland. Even the trained Tuku remained oblivious, yet Richard had heard it clearly and quickly turned to look.
A figure swiftly entered his line of sight—it was a woman.
She appeared to be in her twenties, dressed simply, much like the daughter of a common farmer. At that moment, she stood a distance away, her wide eyes reflecting surprise at the sight of so many people.
"You..." she began, speaking up.
At this point, Tuku finally took notice, turning with a puzzled expression toward the woman. Though his body remained still, his eyes flickered as he speculated about her identity. After a moment, he asked, "Who are you?"
"And who are you?" The woman showed no signs of fear, and instead of answering Tuku directly, she retorted with another question. Then she added, "Have you seen Dorkas? She's my dog—gray, very large—about this big…"
As she spoke, she gestured while approaching.
Tuku furrowed his brow slightly, sensing boldness in the woman. Not only had she approached with the second heir of the barony and a dozen fully armed knights present, she showed no inclination to run away...
Hmm? Why was she moving so quickly?
In mere moments, the woman had closed the distance to Richard, now within mere dozens of meters. Tuku's instincts flared, and without hesitation, he bolted toward Richard, ready to protect him.
Yet, the woman's actions were evidently swifter. Just as Tuku charged forward, she lifted her head with a mocking smile. Cold light flickered in her eyes as she threw up her arm, revealing a half-arm crossbow. The bolt appeared already loaded, its tip darkened by poison, and it was aimed squarely at Richard.
A poisoned bolt at such close range, once fired, would be nearly impossible to evade.
Tuku's eyes widened in alarm, and he bellowed, voice booming and urgent, "Master Richard, be careful! Quickly, dodge!"
But there was no time.
In that very instant as Tuku shouted, the woman had already pulled the trigger of the half-arm crossbow.