Click!
The trigger was pressed to the limit.
Whoosh!
The bolt streaked from the crossbow like a dark streak, aimed straight at Richard.
"Die!" the woman hissed, her face hardened into an expression of ice. In that instant, she was no longer an ordinary farmer's daughter but a trained assassin, every movement precise and lethal.
As the bolt neared Richard, her lips curled into a cruel smile. She imagined the poisoned tip finding its mark, envisioning him succumbing instantly.
But then… the smile froze.
It hadn't hit.
Not a miss… not really.
Richard's perception and reflexes, honed through countless hours of meditation, had allowed him to shift his body just enough for the bolt to scrape past, grazing only the fabric of his clothes.
Impossible!
The assassin's eyes widened, staring at Richard as if he were some kind of monster. Richard's own gaze narrowed, dangerous and unreadable.
Realizing her strike had failed, she knew she was now in mortal peril.
"Damn it!" she cursed under her breath, pivoting sharply and sprinting away.
Tsubuku, whose temper was as fiery as ever, couldn't allow her to escape after she had nearly killed Richard. Without hesitation, he drew his massive knight's sword and surged forward in pursuit.
The assassin, in her light linen garments, was unencumbered except for her half-arm crossbow, which she discarded once her mission failed. Tsubuku, in full armor and wielding a weapon that weighed dozens of pounds, thundered after her, his sheer mass making him slower but not for long.
Who would win this chase? The answer was obvious—he who had a horse would win.
Realizing he couldn't match her on foot, Tsubuku quickly returned, vaulted onto his mount, cracked the reins, and galloped after her like a storm.
Within minutes, he caught up. A precise kick from the back of his steed sent her sprawling to the ground.
By the time the rest of the first guard squad reached them, protecting Richard and Lucy, Tsubuku had already planted the flat of his sword across her neck, considering how to deal a swift strike.
"Hold," Richard commanded. "Keep her alive—I have plans for her."
Tsubuku hesitated, frustrated, but he obeyed. He did, however, deliver a final kick to her stomach, eliciting a muffled grunt as she hit the ground again before moving aside with a growl.
Struggling to her feet, the assassin glared around at the assembled guards and at Tsubuku, recognizing the futility of escape. Yet she remained defiant, meeting Richard's gaze with a cold edge in her voice: "Don't think I'll tell you anything. Even if you kill me, not a word will escape my lips."
Richard ignored her and turned to Tsubuku. "Is there anywhere nearby suitable for questioning?"
Tsubuku pondered, still nursing frustration over his missed chance to strike, and shook his head. No suitable location came to mind.
A young guard spoke up. "Master Richard, if you ride west for about half an hour, there's a village. My family home is there. Since moving to the castle two years ago, only my sister has been home, and I visit every two weeks. There's plenty of empty rooms, so it could serve as a questioning room—or whatever you need."
Richard glanced at the young man. Around twenty-seven or twenty-eight, with golden hair and a face marked by scars that spoiled his otherwise handsome features. His name was Hughes, a capable member of the guard, second only to Tsubuku in combat skill but far calmer and more level-headed.
After a moment's consideration, Richard nodded. "Very well. Lead the way."
"Understood," Hughes replied.
The group mounted once more, the captured assassin secured tightly to the horse behind Hughes.
Half an hour later, the village came into view.
A tidy settlement stretched along the road, two rows of houses flanking the path. Scattered trees dotted the streets, while a mill and a well occupied the center of the village.
Curious villagers peeked from doorways as the armed group entered. When they saw a bound woman on a horse among armored riders, they wisely withdrew indoors, eager to avoid trouble.
Richard paid them no mind, motioning Hughes to continue leading.
Five minutes later, they arrived at a modest homestead near the western edge of the village.
Bang!
Hughes leapt from his horse and pounded on the door. "Alice! Open up! I'm home!"
A startled voice called from inside: "Brother!" Footsteps hurried across the floorboards, the door creaked open.
A young woman, about seventeen or eighteen, emerged. Golden-haired and tall, only half a head shorter than Hughes, with fair skin and delicate features—remarkably beautiful by the standards of the baron's lands.
She looked ready to embrace her brother, but then noticed the riders and the bound woman behind him. Her eyes widened. "Brother, who are these people?"
"These are Master Richard's men," Hughes explained. "And this," he gestured to the captured assassin, "is someone we need to deal with."
Alice blinked, still unsure what to make of the situation.
Hughes continued, "Master Richard has urgent business nearby and requires a few rooms. That's why I brought her here."
Alice nodded slowly, trying to process the scene. "Oh… oh…"
After a moment, she snapped back to action, dashing inside. "I'll prepare the rooms," she called, leaving the group outside.
Hughes scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "Forgive her, Master Richard. She's not used to seeing the outside world… her nerves are a bit fragile."
"No matter," Richard replied lightly, dismounting and entering the courtyard.