After inspecting the thunderbirds' habitat, William leisurely rode Red Hare back toward the castle.
As he passed through a grassy field, a few quails suddenly burst out of the grass with a flurry of wings.
Reacting instinctively, William reached for the shotgun holstered on his saddle.
"Bang! Bang!"
With two quick shots, both plump quails dropped to the ground.
He rode up to them and, with a wave of his hand, the quails floated into the game bag hanging from his saddle.
Continuing his hunt, he shot over a dozen quails—just enough for a meal—before shifting his focus to sparrows and other small birds.
Even if he hit them, he didn't bother collecting them. He was simply practicing his marksmanship.
It wasn't until he emptied all fifty rounds in his hunting pouch that he finally, and somewhat reluctantly, returned to the castle.
After handing off the quails to the servants for the kitchen, he heard the sound of galloping hooves. He didn't even need to look—he knew it had to be Old Neil, the stable master, who practically treated Red Hare like his own son.
Patting Red Hare's strong neck, William cast a healing spell on the horse and then pointed toward Old Neil.
"Go on, head back with the old man. I'll take you out for a run again later if there's time."
Red Hare rubbed its head affectionately against William before reluctantly trotting toward the waiting stable master.
Two days later, while riding with Abigail at the equestrian field, Sunday suddenly reported to William, "Sir, the tracking signal you left for the pixies has been detected. It's coming from the mountains of the Scottish Highlands."
"The Scottish Highlands?"
William barely hesitated before responding, "Forget how the pixies will make their way over. First, locate the portal for me."
"Understood, Sir."
After ending the conversation with Sunday, William gently tapped his heels against Red Hare's sides. The stallion immediately surged forward, quickly catching up to Abigail, who was several meters ahead.
Despite Red Hare's stamina and endurance having declined over the past year, it still took only about ten seconds to close the seventeen or eighteen-meter gap between them.
"That's not fair!" Abigail called out in mock protest.
Meanwhile, Old Neil, who had been watching Red Hare and William from the sidelines, couldn't hide his excitement.
"I knew it! I knew it! Lord Devonshire must have some special formula for enhancing racehorses. Otherwise, there's no way Red Hare's stamina and speed could recover so quickly right after his return."
Of course, as an experienced old hand, Neil had no intention of voicing his thoughts.
Instead, he began considering how to introduce a two-and-a-half-year-old colt—a direct descendant of Red Hare—to William.
If the stables could produce another Triple Crown champion, the Devonshire Stables and Red Hare would be immortalized in racing history. And so would the name Neil Jordan.
With that in mind, Old Neil grabbed his radio and instructed, "Get Red Hare II ready. The boss needs to see that all these years of investment haven't gone to waste."
"Understood, boss!" came the excited response over the radio.
Not long after, as William sat in the saddle with Abigail in his arms, he spotted a young horse on the track.
It had the same fiery red coat as Red Hare—completely flawless, without a single stray marking.
Noticing his gaze, Abigail followed his line of sight and quickly understood.
"It looks like Old Neil isn't entirely reassured, even with Lady Lena's and my approval.
The moment he saw you, he immediately brought out Red Hare's most outstanding offspring to show you."
William raised an eyebrow. "Is this colt really that good?"
"Of course," Abigail nodded. "Not only was Red Hare II born in March—just like his sire—but the stable has been following the same training and competition schedule that Red Hare had.
They're hoping that with a bit of luck, they'll catch your attention."
"Whistle—!"
William placed two fingers to his lips and let out a sharp whistle, channeling his Beast Affinity magic through the sound.
The young colt immediately perked up, his attention drawn to William.
Meanwhile, the stable staff watching from the sidelines nearly burst with excitement.
However, the moment the colt noticed the towering presence of Red Hare, it hesitated.
Even after William whistled again, it only took hesitant steps forward.
Red Hare, on the other hand, showed no signs of joy at seeing its offspring. Instead, it pawed the ground aggressively, letting out a low, warning snort.
"Relax, relax."
As Abigail laughed heartily, William quickly moved to calm Red Hare down.
Dismounting, he grabbed the stallion's head and soothed it until it finally settled.
Seeing William dismount, Abigail—who had been startled by Red Hare's reaction—immediately jumped off as well, wisely putting some distance between them.
This gave William the perfect opportunity to cast a healing spell on Red Hare.
As the warm magical energy coursed through him, Red Hare finally relaxed.
Now in a much better mood, he no longer seemed as opposed to his son's approach.
"You big fool," William muttered, chuckling as he walked toward the colt, who stood five or six meters away.
The young horse, still enchanted by the Beast Affinity spell, happily pranced in place.
The moment William reached out to stroke its mane, it leaned into his touch, showing no resistance—just as Red Hare had done years ago when they first met.
After spending a few minutes bonding, William grabbed onto the colt's mane and effortlessly swung himself onto its back.
The sight of him riding the young horse without any tack or saddle left Abigail and the stable staff utterly speechless.
Slowly, William had the colt trot around the track, all the while channeling Nature Magic to nourish its body.
However, this time, he didn't force its physical attributes to surge rapidly.
Instead, he maintained a steady pace for about ten minutes before finally dismounting and handing the colt over to an anxious Old Neil.
Before they knew it, the time had reached 3:40 p.m.
Deliberately checking his watch, William turned to Abigail.
"It's almost four. Would you rather have afternoon tea, or come hunting with me to catch some game for dinner?"
"No way!" Abigail immediately shook her head. "I don't want to see all that blood and gore."
But she also didn't want to part ways with William, so after a brief pause, she suggested, "How about we head over to the outdoor field and watch a polo match instead?"
William, having anticipated this, feigned ignorance and frowned.
"Polo match? But I thought our stables were private property. Why would there be a match here?"
Seeing his reaction, Abigail quickly explained,
"Oxford University holds various sports tryouts every year, and since our family is the Humanities College's largest donor—
With an annual contribution of £2 million, the Henry Devonshire Scholarship is one of Oxford's most prestigious awards.
With that kind of support, it was only natural for the Humanities College to ask Lady Lena if they could use our facilities to train their polo team.
Since the grounds would have otherwise been unused, and the extra maintenance costs were less than £100,000 per year,
Lady Lena saw it as an opportunity to enhance our family's reputation in Oxford and readily agreed.
In fact, she even donates an additional £200,000 annually to sponsor the polo team."
"But," Abigail added with a smirk, "ever since Lady Lena started funding the team, Oxford's other colleges have been clamoring to grant you an honorary professorship.
They've sent invitations, but Lady Lena rejected them all before they even reached you."
As they chatted, they arrived at the training field.
And there, William finally laid eyes on the last descendant of Merlin—Vivian Wembley.
______
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