If he relied only on descriptions, Leonard felt his understanding was still a little vague.
So he decided to test just how much the trait enhancement would affect the plants under his care.
Following the thorny path out of the botanical garden, Leonard planned to make his usual patrol before finding an opportunity to experiment.
This patrol really did lead Leonard to something unusual.
Crouching down, he stared at a large patch of animal tracks on the ground, lost in thought.
These weren't the traces of a passing creature but messy footprints left by something prowling around. The repeated trampling had blurred them so badly that Leonard couldn't even make out their shape, much less identify the animal.
Something had tried to get into his botanical garden?
Near the tracks, Leonard found the edge of the thorn barrier. Sure enough, on the withered, spiked branches clung strands of black fur, and on some thorns, tiny spots of blood remained.
So something had tried to force its way through and had been taught a lesson by the thorns.
The remains of the Bitterthorn, which formed the botanical garden's fence, were the strongest defense in Leonard's possession. During their hyper-accelerated growth, the roots spread outward, devouring vast amounts of nutrients and water until the soil hardened. Combined with the withered roots, they formed a structure stronger than concrete.
This made the above-ground plants immovable, while their steel-hard spikes and barbs ensured any beast attempting a break-in learned its place.
When designing the thorn layout, Leonard had used a vantage point higher than most beasts, creating paths that could only be seen from specific angles.
From other viewpoints, the dense spikes concealed them completely.
And within this circle of thorns wasn't a single bare entrance but countless false openings leading to dead ends, among which only one was real.
In short, without Leonard, no creature could enter the botanical garden by normal means.
Though it seemed the owner of these tracks hadn't managed to get in, Leonard still needed to be cautious. If the creature was a rare Magical Creature and somehow slipped through, he had to notice immediately. Otherwise, it would be a huge loss—after all, living magical creatures could fetch a hefty price.
"But there shouldn't be anything in the botanical garden that would attract Magical Creatures, right?" Leonard muttered, studying the tracks. The persistence of their owner was obvious.
Still, with the young Bitterthorn now active and a giant Venomous Tentacula capable of covering the entire garden, security wasn't much of a concern.
Leonard stood, about to leave, when he suddenly felt eyes on him.
Something was watching. It didn't feel human—the gaze carried no complex emotion.
Turning, Leonard saw a horse, so white it seemed to glow, watching him curiously from a distance.
A horse that glowed white?
His mind froze for a moment. Then the "horse" shook its head, and through the branches Leonard glimpsed a silver horn.
A unicorn.
Unicorns were gentle and curious, but also highly sensitive to evil and malice, and braver than most creatures.
When threatened, they attacked without hesitation, striking with horn and hooves to leave their enemies battered and chilled to the bone.
These beautiful, pure-looking beings were not to be underestimated. They were strong, their bodies brimming with magic that reinforced their speed, strength, and resistance to spells to terrifying levels.
Even an Unforgivable Curse, laden with malice, couldn't kill one in a single strike.
Recalling what he had read, Leonard recognized it at once.
But he also knew the unicorn wasn't the creature prowling his botanical garden—there were no black-haired unicorns in the world.
So was this unicorn watching him? What did it want?
Leonard didn't believe it would attack him unprovoked. Was it just curiosity?
Looking at its sleek, silvery coat, he felt the sudden urge to reach out and touch it.
The unicorn's fur looked so soft to touch.
Sensing Leonard's invasive stare, a flicker of disdain appeared in its sapphire eyes. It backed away a few steps, then bounded off.
Watching the unicorn flee like a woodland spirit, Leonard rubbed his hands together in regret.
Next time, he swore he'd get the chance to run his hand through a unicorn's fur.
With the unicorn gone, Leonard left the botanical garden with his suitcase, following his usual route. He remembered this path passed near the lair of a Mountain Troll.
The troll stank, but as long as he kept his distance, it wasn't impossible to deal with.
Leonard planned to test the trait enhancements using the magical plant seeds he carried.
Before long, he reached the edge of the Mountain Troll's territory. Even without approaching, the reek of fermenting dung hit him like a wall.
The troll had cleared a patch of ground here. Around the central burrow lay shattered animal bones and piles of droppings, the whole scene a hellish nightmare.
Covering his nose, Leonard looked up to see the troll asleep in the burrow, most of its body sprawled out, its thunderous snores shaking the air.
Asleep. Thank goodness.
Leonard let out a quiet sigh of relief through his pinched nose. With the plants at his disposal, maybe he could take it down from a distance. That way, he wouldn't have to risk getting covered in its stench.
The black hole opened, and a seed fell into his hand.
It was the seed of the Giant Venomous Tentacula. Leonard intended to test its trait enhancement through long-range attacks.
Estimating quickly, he saw that he stood about sixty meters from the troll.
Since the Giant Venomous Tentacula's normal attack range was forty meters, Leonard had deliberately put more distance between them to verify the enhanced reach.
Optimize Growth. Long-Range Attack Enhancement. Trait Enhancement. Rapid Growth.
The moment the enhancements activated, the seed hit the ground and instantly split into three, each one shooting off to the sides before taking root.
In the blink of an eye, three enormous Venomous Tentacula shot up from the soil.
And it didn't stop there. The long-range enhancement triggered, sprouting slender, spiked tubes.
Trait enhancement!
The thin plant fibers swelled, stretching into "barrels" over a meter long, their spikes enlarged in proportion.
Leonard, staring at the monstrous growth and those spikes as thick as pigeon eggs, sucked in a sharp breath.