Chapter Nine: Horses of Another World Are Truly Unique

With a dull thud, Little White slipped from his hand. Chu Tian stared blankly at the so-called patient before him, feeling utterly lost. This time, he was in deep trouble!

The unicorn warhorse—perhaps it would be more fitting to call it a tier-three magical beast—had a basic frame similar to that of a horse from Earth, but it was several times larger, standing at least ten feet tall. Its body was covered in dense, glossy black scales, its teeth were sharp, and a jet-black horn about a foot long jutted from its forehead. Two pronounced shoulder blades protruded like bony wings.

This, then, was Chu Tian’s patient.

High above, colorful clouds drifted across the sky, while horses galloped below. Under the azure dome, a boundless emerald plain stretched out, and Chu Tian’s one hundred thousand patients were assembled to welcome their veterinarian! But rather than running, they hung their heads, kneeling upon the turf, two hundred thousand listless eyes gazing at Chu Tian.

A gathering of a hundred thousand warhorses blotted out the sky and sun. The scene was magnificent, yet Chu Tian had no heart to admire it. Were these really horses? Even if they were, no one told him there would be so many! Damal! That old fellow had dared to play him for a fool! Chu Tian looked skyward and cursed furiously.

Three days earlier, after the banquet, Chu Tian had pilfered a few bottles of fine wine to bring home to Little White. He’d barely exited the palace gates when he was stopped by Damal, the Minister of Magic.

Facing Marquis Damal, one of the three great leaders of the Imperial High Command, Chu Tian, a mere count, dared not offend him. On Earth, Damal would be the equivalent of a powerful minister of state. Besides, he was there to deliver the emperor’s orders.

When Damal casually mentioned that the emperor had a few sick horses and wished Chu Tian to diagnose them, Chu Tian was delighted—an opportunity to earn merit! Just a few horses, and as a professional veterinarian, wouldn’t he cure them easily? Perhaps he wouldn’t be rewarded as handsomely as after the Crimson Blaze incident, but he could expect a few more gold coins.

Still, Chu Tian was cautious and questioned Damal in detail about the illness. The old man was even more nonchalant, saying it was just a matter of poor appetite and low spirits. Damal’s reputation for honesty and forthrightness was well known in the imperial capital, and Chu Tian had heard of it. Thus, he was reassured.

Little did he know that, for once, the honest Damal had played a cunning trick. After several bungled assignments, Emperor Ludie III’s patience with his Minister of Magic was wearing thin. Were it not for Damal’s unmatched power as a grand archmage, he would have been replaced already. This time, Damal learned his lesson. If he told Chu Tian the truth—that a hundred thousand imperial warhorses were stricken with a fatal illness and that over a hundred court priests had failed—then if Chu Tian also failed, the emperor’s wrath might well cost Damal his head. If he put it that way, Chu Tian would surely run for his life.

But having lied, the situation was different. If Chu Tian was tricked into treating the horses and succeeded, Damal would share in the credit; if he failed, the blame was Chu Tian’s alone, and Damal would be absolved of responsibility.

Thus, after downplaying the severity of the situation a thousandfold, Damal presented it to Chu Tian as a request to treat a few adorable colts with poor appetites. And the nature of the assignment, which Emperor Ludie III had described as a mere attempt, became, in Damal’s words, a task that, if unfulfilled, would cost Chu Tian his head!

“Damn it! I’ve been played for a fool!” Chu Tian suddenly shouted, startling the attendants.

Kevin, the chief steward of the warhorse encampment, hurried over, picked up the fallen Little White, and handed him back to Chu Tian, asking, “My lord count, is something wrong?”

“It’s nothing, just some unpleasant memories.” As he took back Little White, Chu Tian yelped in pain. Little White had taken the opportunity to bite him twice on the wrist, leaving deep teeth marks in revenge.

Chu Tian glanced sheepishly at Kevin, who was suppressing a laugh. Putting on a stern face, Chu Tian coughed twice and solemnly asked, “All right, let’s get to the matter at hand. What symptoms do these warhorses have?”

“They’ve had persistent high fevers lately, eat very little, and have no energy. For specifics, I’d ask you to see for yourself, sir,” Kevin replied, signaling for a horse to be brought forward.

Chu Tian examined the warhorse carefully. Blisters of varying sizes had erupted around its lips and mouth, some already ulcerated. The hooves were similarly afflicted. The animal was emaciated from prolonged inability to eat, and its back felt cold to the touch.

“Didn’t you say it had a high fever? Why is its body so cold?” Chu Tian asked Kevin in surprise.

Kevin looked at him in astonishment and lowered his voice, “My lord, are you unaware of the unicorn’s traits?”

Unicorn traits? Chu Tian glanced at his attendants and saw the same look of surprise. Realizing he’d made a basic mistake, he quickly covered, saying:

“Praise be to the Goddess of Life! Until half a month ago, I was still studying under my teacher, Anthony, and had never left the mountains. It’s only natural I know nothing about unicorns!” He put on the pious expression of a charlatan and said, in the most sincere tone, “My teacher always told me to grow through experience, and now I see how right he was.”

Seizing the moment while none were watching, Chu Tian discreetly slipped a piece of dried meat from his sleeve and fed it to Little White. After so much time together, he was certain that, having just finished his charlatan act, he would soon face Little White’s ridicule—so best to bribe him in advance.

At the mention of Anthony, Kevin and the attendants immediately adopted expressions of reverence, their gaze toward Chu Tian taking on genuine respect instead of bureaucratic indifference. Thirty years ago, Anthony had made immense sacrifices in a war, and every citizen of Caesar bore him deep gratitude.

Noting the change in their demeanor, Chu Tian mused to himself—old man Anthony’s reputation really was useful!

“So that’s how it is. Please forgive my rudeness just now. Your candor moves us, my lord count!” Kevin bowed his head and sincerely apologized, then began to explain about unicorns.

Candor, my foot! If I weren’t worried about failing the task and having the emperor hold me to account, I wouldn’t bother pretending at all! Chu Tian grumbled inwardly while listening to Kevin’s account.

The unicorn originally hailed from the lands of the beastfolk—the Hanging River Prairie. Several centuries ago, a farsighted emperor of Caesar, defying his ministers, bartered a vast quantity of grain to acquire a few unicorns from the beastmen. After years of effort and with the aid of numerous high priests and mages, the unicorns—despite their poor fertility—were finally bred in significant numbers.

Thereafter, legions of tier-three unicorn warhorses appeared on the enemies’ lands, their heroic exploits establishing the Caesar cavalry’s reputation for invincibility.

In truth, unicorns were only a little stronger than ordinary tier-one magical beasts and had virtually no magical power. What made them so formidable—so worth the emperor’s investment—was a special trait: intermediate magic immunity. Against such forces, enemy mid- and low-level mages were rendered useless! This was also why the magical kingdom of Elson had always maintained friendly ties with Caesar. Though Elson boasted nearly a hundred thousand mages, most were of mid- or low level; fewer than ten thousand could harm unicorn warhorses, while Caesar’s cavalry numbered three hundred thousand!

Because of this intermediate magic immunity, unicorns’ bodies were always cold. Not even a sixth-level grand fire mage could raise their temperature, let alone a little fever!

The only way to judge a unicorn’s temperature was through their eyes.

Following Kevin’s instructions, Chu Tian examined the horse’s eyes and, sure enough, found them blood red instead of the usual sky blue.

After another thorough examination, Chu Tian started to form an idea, but when he looked at the hooves—so like those of Earth horses—he hesitated. Blisters on the mouth and hooves, loss of appetite, lethargy, persistent high fever—these were textbook symptoms of foot-and-mouth disease on Earth!

Chu Tian racked his brain for knowledge from his school days. Yes—foot-and-mouth only occurred in cloven-hoofed animals, but these hooves...

Never mind! Let’s call it foot-and-mouth disease! Chu Tian had dared to bluff his way through treating a dragon—why not a mere tier-three warhorse?

“Go fetch Minister Damal and have him bring every mage in the capital here at once!” Chu Tian declared to Kevin, full of vigor.