Chapter 38

In a state of hesitation, Alex was utterly reluctant to acquiesce. His guiding principle in life was to tread cautiously; otherwise, he would not have survived to this day. Yet…

As she observed that Alex remained silent for too long, Melissa's displeasure flared. "What's the matter? Are you too afraid? Do you fear that Richard, who possesses naught but a mere titlelessness, more than me?"

Upon hearing her words, Alex's heart quivered once more. He realized a daunting truth: should he refuse Melissa's demands, the consequences would not only hinder his ascent but might also put him at the mercy of her father's authority, leading to harassment, and perhaps even expelling him from the Bauhinia Merchants' Guild.

Should he truly be cast out from the Bauhinia, finding another job as good as this would be exceedingly difficult; he might find himself returning to the days of hunger and plenty in shifts…

These thoughts caused Alex's expression to oscillate between darkness and light, a spectrum of emotions playing across his visage. Ultimately, he raised his head and looked at Melissa, presenting a smile.

In that moment, Alex made his decision. "Miss Melissa, rest assured, I shall ensure that the tasks you assign are executed flawlessly."

"Are you serious?"

"Absolutely." Alex replied earnestly, and then, with a touch of caution, added, "But do not forget what you promised…"

"Do not fret! I shall see to it that my father promotes you," Melissa interrupted with an air of casual confidence.

"Then that is well," Alex nodded emphatically, turning to depart.

Melissa's eyes glimmered as she gazed toward Richard's position ahead in the caravan, anticipation blooming within her.

Two hours later, the long, stifling day drew to a close.

As they settled for the night, Alex approached Melissa with a hint of secrecy. "Miss Melissa, I've arranged everything! By tomorrow, that fellow Richard shall face consequences!"

"Is that true?"

"Without a doubt."

"Then I shall eagerly await it." Melissa's excitement surged.

Soon, the dawn of a new day arrived.

This day proved even more oppressive than the last; though it was autumn, the heat enveloped the land like a steamer. From the ground, wisps of "white smoke" ascended, emanating from evaporating moisture, mingling with the dust stirred up by the caravan's wheels.

Every member of the caravan was drenched in sweat, hair clinging, clothes soaked, and, once dust settled upon them, their garments turned a dismal gray.

Richard, leading the First Guard, wore an expressionless countenance as he remained alert at the forefront, safeguarding all.

Immediately behind him was Mular, the caravan manager, shouting commands to hasten their progress.

Seated in the cart, Melissa's eyes sparkled with determination, casting glances toward Richard in the distance, as well as toward Alex, keenly observing how Alex would maneuver to render Richard embarrassed.

Yet, after a prolonged wait, Alex seemed indecisive. Finally, with impatience swelling within her, Melissa fixed an irritated glare upon him. Noticing her gaze, Alex sent a silent apology, mouthing the words: "Not yet; wait a moment longer."

Reluctantly, Melissa settled into a resigned patience.

Before long, the caravan had traveled six miles, then eight, ten, and eleven miles…

When the caravan covered thirteen miles that afternoon, Melissa could no longer restrain herself. Once more, she fixed a discontented glare at Alex, but noticed that he wore an expression of readiness.

As she pondered this revelation, a loud shout from one of the caravan workers pierced the air: "Bloody hell! I'm almost dead with this heat!"

Ahead, the First Guard was racing along when suddenly, Tuku halted his horse. He peered into the wild grass by the roadside and turned to Richard, exclaiming, "Master Richard! We have a situation."

"Hmm?" Richard furrowed his brow, kicking his horse's belly and riding closer, only to discover an alarming array of tracks trampled into the underbrush.

The tracks were chaotic, marked by horse hooves and human footprints; errant nibbles on the grass indicated horses had been grazing. Discarded black bread crumbs littered the area. It appeared that a group of people had hastily taken a rest by the roadside without clearing up after themselves. A rough estimate suggested at least ten or even twenty individuals had passed through.

Upon seeing this, Richard's gaze sharpened, and he inhaled slowly, then exhaled, regarding Tuku with intent. "How many such signs have we found?"

"Um… it appears to be the sixth location. Ever since we commenced protecting the caravan yesterday, we have discovered traces like this regularly. It seems as though…" Tuku's demeanor shifted, his expression growing solemn as he ventured a cautious guess, "There may be someone tracking us…"

"Not 'may be'; it is certain someone is following us," Richard stated assuredly, his eyes glinting with newfound sharpness.

"What shall we do?" Tuku inquired, his hand instinctively resting upon the hilt of his knightly sword.

"We shall observe and act with care," Richard replied. "Thus far, these individuals have not shown themselves, but I can surmise their intentions are far from noble. Therefore, we must ensure our campsite tonight is positioned away from any thickets to prevent ambushes come nightfall."

"Where shall we settle for the night?"

"An open area is preferable, devoid of cover; outline obstacles and dig trenches, ensuring vigilant sentries are set," Richard instructed.

"Indeed…" Tuku's eyes flickered as he produced an old map, studied it for some time, and then raised his head. "Master Richard, if we travel forward twenty miles, there appears to be an area fitting your description—open terrain without trees, and a stream nearby which could act as a temporary barrier."

"five miles sounds right, and aligns perfectly with our schedule for the day. Let us proceed as planned," Richard nodded in agreement, then added, "Stay alert throughout our journey; after all, we can never anticipate when those hidden foes might reveal themselves."

"Understood." Tuku nodded earnestly, but then voiced his concern. "However, Master Richard, who might these pursuers be? What sort of individuals dare to provoke us?"

"Who can say?" Richard replied with a cold smile. "They may be malicious rogues, or perhaps bold thieves, but I shan't venture to make assumptions about their identities. If they cause trouble, they shall find me decidedly unfriendly. For indeed… I harbor a profound disdain for meddlesome folk."

At Richard's frosty expression, Tuku instinctively retracted his neck, recalling Richard's earlier warning regarding unnecessary chaos.

Just then, one member of the First Guard dashed forward, reporting to Richard, "Master Richard, it seems there's been an issue with the caravan; it would be prudent for you to check on things."

"Hmm?" Richard turned to the messenger, whose reddish eyes—evident symptoms of conjunctivitis colloquially referred to as 'Red Eye'—betrayed his distress.

With an air of irritation, Richard inquired, "What is occurring?"

The 'Red Eye,' furrowing his brow, replied candidly, "I don't know how, but the caravan has halted once more! Damn it!"

Richard raised an eyebrow as various hypotheses coursed through his mind: was it that miss Melissa had instigated trouble once more? Or was it something else…?

After pondering for several seconds, Richard redirected his horse toward the caravan, with the 'Red Eye' following closely behind.

Upon reaching the front of the caravan, Richard found the scene more absurd than he had envisioned: an unnamed worker was bawling loudly, declaring it was too hot and demanding an immediate halt to set up camp, exclaiming a desire for a bath besides.

The rest of the caravan members, as if drawn into a spectacle, watched the hysterics unfold, and like clockwork, they paused their progress in agreement—none bore any sense of duty; they would seize any opportunity to indulge in leisure.

Richard frowned lightly, scanning the surrounding area for Mular. He presumed that Mular, as the caravan overseer, would surely not allow such chaos to persist; he would devise a reasonable solution. However, after a thorough search of the vicinity, Richard was surprised to discover Mular was nowhere to be found, and thus, he sensed something amiss.

"This..." Richard narrowed his eyes, suddenly catching a whiff of deception in the air.