Chapter 53

Five crossbows!

Even considering the riders and thieves who had rushed into the building moments earlier, each wielding but a single crossbow, they had only managed a total of four. The presence of five, however, indicated that there were indeed more individuals concealed within the hut. A daring hypothesis began to take shape in Tuku's mind—perhaps the cacophony of battle they'd just heard had been mere ruse crafted by the thieves; perhaps no one had perished save for the two who had exited, and five others lingered inside, waiting for the opportune moment to strike.

Once the external duo's "distraction plan" faltered, the remaining five seemed to recognize that a superior opportunity would not arise again; with fierce resolve, they launched their assault.

This was the unvarnished truth!

It was conceivable that the thieves had indeed been bested, that the riders had been retaliated against, but that did not imply that the planned ambush was altogether abandoned. The few who remained were still scheming, poised to execute an attack that defied imagination—a carefully orchestrated maneuver long in the making!

As the pieces fell into place in Tuku's mind, his eyes widened in alarm as he turned to Richard, ready to issue a warning. Yet, before he could utter a sound, the five crossbows released their deadly bolts, arrows hurtling towards Richard like streaks of lightning. There was naught for him to do, perched upon his steed, to evade their deadly advance.

Danger!

Tuku felt a surge of panic!

But Richard, curiously, wore an expression of calm.

While Tuku was piecing together the revelation, Richard had already adapted his mindset. In the fleeting moment when the riders and thieves had called out to retreat, Richard had sensed the underlying threat. Thus, as the glinting arrows rushed towards him, due to that foresight, there was no trace of panic upon his visage.

Yet, while the fear had receded, danger remained a furious specter.

After all, five solid bolts from the crossbows possessed an overwhelming capacity for destruction, and evading them would pose an extraordinary challenge.

Richard furrowed his brow, narrowing his focus as he quickly expanded his pupils to capture every detail of the impending bolts, his mind reaching its apex of processing power.

As his thoughts raced like a storm, the world around him seemed to slow, as if time had thickened into a viscous pool.

Richard's gaze never wavered from the bolts, focusing intently on their five swift trajectories slowly approaching him from forty meters away.

Influenced by the autumn rain and tumultuous winds, the paths of those bolts experienced a slight deviation, albeit minor, given how close they were. To avoid their lethal embrace, he must utilize this trivial shift to his advantage.

For the first, he would lower his head to evade the first bolt.

For the second, he would lift his leg.

For the third, he withdrew his hand.

For the fourth, he twisted his body.

The bolts grazed past Richard's form, each one narrowly escaping contact. And then, the fifth bolt approached, looming ominously.

The method to dodge the fifth bolt was deceptively simple; he would again pivot his body. Just by continuing to tilt thirty degrees to the left, he could let the bolt shear past him, flying harmlessly from behind.

With these thoughts swirling within him, Richard's body sprang into action, the bolts nearing ever closer.

But in that very instant, Richard's eyes widened in shock as his entire body stilled. An unexpected, soft sensation brushed against his back—his little maid, Lucy!

Lucy had been seated behind him on the horse, previously engrossed in her studies with her eyes closed. Whether it was during the fight against the thieves, against the ambushing riders, or now, she had maintained her calm and silence. So absorbed, so quiet, Richard had nearly overlooked her presence. But the moment of realisation struck him hard.

And if he continued to twist away, while he might evade the fifth bolt, Lucy would surely be in its line of fire.

So…

In the next heartbeat, Richard thrust his hand forward.

He extended his left hand with startling speed, positioning it beside his left rib to act as a shield.

"Whoosh—thud!"

Instantly, Richard felt a tremor in his left palm, quickly followed by a surge of sharp pain. He glanced down to see the fifth bolt lodged deep in his hand, the arrowhead protruding slightly just below his palm. It hadn't penetrated completely due to insufficient force and became wedged against a bone. Blood began to pool and drip drop by drop from the wound.

This!

Tuku's eyes blazed with fury and blood, and the rest of the First Guard seethed with indignation, drawing their weapons as they pleaded with Richard, "Master Richard, let us storm in and annihilate them!"

For Tuku and his comrades, Richard's injury was the gravest offense. If they could not safeguard Richard's safety, what purpose did they serve? In that moment, all they wished was to reduce the occupants of the hut to pulpy remains. Would injuries or even loss of life mean anything in that process? For that was the very essence of their worth!

Yet Richard offered no response, for at that moment, Lucy was slowly awakening behind him, her eyes blinking open with confusion as she asked, "Master, what's wrong? What happened?"

"Nothing! You should focus on your studies," Richard replied, forcing a smile, despite the pain coursing through him.

"But I've already finished my review," Lucy replied, wide-eyed.

"Then review it once more!" Richard's face shifted to a serious expression.

"But…"

"Do you have such confidence that when the assessment comes, you won't miss a single answer?"

"Um…" Lucy hesitated, sticking out her tongue. "I'm not sure."

"Then review again, and close your eyes," Richard instructed, gently placing his right hand over Lucy's eyes.

With no choice left, Lucy complied, shutting her eyes tightly as she began to revisit all her lessons.

Richard then slowly turned his horse away, guiding it two hundred meters from the hut. Given the range of crossbows in this world, this distance seemed relatively secure.

Taking a deep breath, he slid off the horse, carefully lowering Lucy's head behind a tree as he crouched beside her. "Stay here and study diligently; I will quiz you shortly."

"Okay," Lucy responded, a hint of disappointment in her voice. She closed her eyes tightly, diligently reviewing the knowledge she had just learned.

Richard exhaled deeply before turning back towards the group gathered by the hut, his eyes narrowing in concentration.

Once again, Tuku and the others looked at him, their faces burning with indignation as they implored, "Master Richard, let us charge! We must turn those inside into mere pulp!"

Richard shook his head gently, responding with quiet resolve, "No need." In the next moment, his gaze fell upon his injured left hand, focusing on the crossbow bolt now embedded within.

After studying it for a moment, Richard finally spoke, "It appears the arrow grazed between the majority of the ulna and radius, tearing through a portion of the flexor pollicis brevis muscle. In the short term, it will affect the extension function of my left thumb, but upon healing, there should be no lasting repercussions. Furthermore, the arrowhead is not poisoned, nor is there any trace of venom—it seems I am somewhat fortunate."

As Richard spoke, his face bore no expression of relief. Instead, a chilling coldness—a stark absence of emotion—pervaded his demeanor.

With a swift motion, Richard yanked the arrow from his palm. The pain forced his brow to furrow slightly, yet beyond that, he exhibited no further reaction.