Lord: Starting with Biological Modification

Chapter 296: Chapter 291: Plastic Pact

Noon.

Sunlight passed through the windowpanes, casting several stripes of light across the floor of Philippe’s study.

The acrid smell of burnt parchment filled the air. In the fireplace, the ashes of several secret pacts still glowed a final, faint red.

Philippe paced back and forth in his study, the cashmere carpet swallowing the sound of his leather boots.

"If we can’t verify that priest’s background, we can’t ignore the risk. We have to leave, but we can’t just run off without a plan."

He spoke, his voice low. "Someone has to stay behind to draw the Inquisition’s attention."

In the shadows, his intelligence chief was hunched over.

"My lord means...?"

Philippe stopped pacing. His gaze pierced through the window, settling on another mansion in the distance.

"That brute Valerius is covered in trouble and his hands have never been clean. He’s the perfect choice. No one is more suitable to be the bait."

The intelligence chief kept his head bowed and didn’t respond, merely sinking deeper into the shadows.

"Understood."

"I get it!"

Valerius sat in his study, repeatedly wiping down his Knight’s longsword with an oil-soaked linen cloth.

The blade reflected the candlelight, the gleam dazzling to the eye.

"Bait! That sissy Philippe, the one who only knows how to wave a fan, definitely wants to make me the bait! He wants to run!"

His adjutant stood to the side, his body ramrod straight beneath his armor.

"What should we do then, my lord? Do we retreat tonight?"

Valerius slammed his longsword back into its scabbard with a SHIING. The ear-piercing scrape of metal made the adjutant flinch.

"No! He wants to run, but I won’t let him! I’m going to use the one thing he values most to chain him here!"

He grinned, revealing a set of white teeth. "I mean, you must always pay attention to his ridiculous, so-called ’noble honor.’"

The adjutant’s face was filled with confusion.

"Honor?"

"But my lord... is the real difficulty not his honor?"

The intelligence chief fell silent for a moment, then spoke cautiously.

"Valerius may be reckless, but he cares a great deal about his reputation. How can we exploit his honor? If we directly ask him to stay behind as bait, he’ll never agree."

A hint of approval appeared on Philippe’s face. He hadn’t expected a subordinate who was only good for gathering intelligence to think things through to this level.

"Correct. But honor is just a facade. What’s missing is a pact that will fool him into staying willingly."

The intelligence chief repeated the word, mulling over its meaning.

"A pact..."

"Yes, a pact!"

Valerius slammed a fist on the table.

"Listen up, kid! I’m going to form an alliance with him! I’ll make him believe we’ll stand together, that neither of us will slip away dishonorably! I’ll make him believe that as long as he stays, we can drive out that foreign Baron!"

"Then, I’ll take my men and leave, letting him face that bunch of lunatics from the Church alone!"

The adjutant’s eyes lit up in sudden understanding.

"I... I understand, my lord! You plan to..."

...

Philippe made his decision.

He walked to the door, pulled it open, and gave an order to the attendant waiting outside, his voice having regained its usual elegance and composure.

"Go and invite Viscount Valerius. Tell him I’ve recently acquired a fine horse from the Northern Territory. It’s a bit spirited, and I’d like him, an expert, to accompany me for a ride in the woods. We can also discuss our mutual ’problem.’"

「Half an hour later, in the woods on the northern outskirts of the city.」

The two men had dismissed their attendants and were riding slowly along a forest path.

The afternoon sun slanted through the gaps in the interlocking branches, casting dappled, broken patches of light on the ground. The wind, warm with the scent of grass and trees, blew past, causing the horses to snort from time to time.

Valerius was the first to rein in his warhorse, which pawed restlessly at the ground.

He turned in his saddle to look at Philippe, who was slowly catching up.

"Some wild priest from who-knows-where has you this scared?"

Valerius’s voice sounded exceptionally coarse in the quiet woods, startling a few birds. "Meeting in a godforsaken place like this, we look like a pair of thieves!"

He crossed his arms over his chest, striking a fearless pose, but his eyes were secretly gauging Philippe’s reaction.

"I’m telling you, that so-called ’Divine Art’ is just some kind of trick, and that farmer was a plant! This has to be a scheme by that country bumpkin, Velin. I’m not leaving. I want to see what other tricks he can pull!"

Philippe chuckled softly.

He elegantly tugged on his reins, and the purebred horse beneath him came to a docile stop, its posture far more composed than Valerius’s warhorse.

He stroked the horse’s silky mane.

"You have a point," he said unhurriedly. In the afterglow of the setting sun, his profile looked utterly composed.

"However, even if he is a fake, he’s still caused quite a stir. It doesn’t matter much to me; my business has always been clean. Unlike some people..."

He raised his eyes, his gaze sweeping over Valerius like a cold forest wind.

"Embezzling Church property, forcibly seizing Church woodlands... If the Church were to be alerted and sent a real investigator, things could get interesting."

The warhorse beneath Valerius sensed its master’s tension and shook its head irritably.

He forced himself to remain calm and sneered.

"Stop your fearmongering! I’ll handle my own affairs!"

"We’ve both been played by that kid from the Grey Marsh Territory."

Philippe urged his horse forward until he was alongside Valerius. He lowered his voice, sounding earnest. "He wants to scare us off one by one so he can have the roses of Dawn Territory all to himself. We can’t let him succeed."

Valerius said nothing, waiting for him to continue.

"We should join forces," Philippe said seriously.

"As long as we stand together, forget a fake priest—even if the real Inquisition shows up, they’d have to think twice about offending two powerful nobles at once. Neither of us will leave. We’ll stay together and drive Velin out of Dawn Territory!"

Facing Valerius, he pulled his hand from his glove and extended it toward him.

Valerius looked at Philippe, silent for a moment.

He suddenly burst into laughter, the sound echoing through the woods and making the leaves rustle.

"Well said! I’ve never liked the look of that pretty boy! This is what we should’ve done from the start!"

He stuck out a hand as large as a cattail fan and clasped Philippe’s hand firmly.

Philippe felt as if he were gripping a piece of rough stone, while Valerius thought the other’s hand was as slick as a snake.

"The pact is sealed!" Valerius roared. "Anyone who dares to run first is a coward, the scum of the nobility!"

"It’s a deal."

Philippe also wore a sincere smile, as if he had just found a long-lost brother.

The two exchanged a few more hypocritical pleasantries, each proclaiming that a clear conscience fears no accusation and that they would never be scared off by such petty tricks. Then, satisfied, they turned their horses around and parted ways.

The moment Philippe returned to his mansion and shut the door to his study, the smile vanished from his face without a trace.

He snarled toward the shadows.

"Quick! Pack everything! Load those two chests of Golden Suns and Gemstones onto the carriage! And the silks I brought from the Royal Capital! Have it all ready before dark!"

His intelligence chief appeared from the shadows, moving swiftly.

Philippe muttered a curse as he threw the last of the documents from his desk into the fireplace.

’That idiot actually bought it! Did he really think I’d stay here and die with him? Let him stay and explain his ’war exploits’ to the Church!’

The firelight reflected off his contorted face as sweat trickled down from his temple.

Meanwhile, Valerius stormed back to his own mansion and kicked open the door to his room.

He roared at his stunned adjutant.

"Assemble the Knight Order! Everyone! Travel light! Bring me my warhammer, ’Skullcrusher’! We’re pulling out of Dawn Territory tomorrow!"

The adjutant was confused.

"My lord, your alliance with Count Philippe... it went well?"

Valerius let out a sneer and spat. "That sissy can really act! Thinks he can use me as a scapegoat? In his dreams! Let him enjoy his ’noble honor’ here all by himself!"

He grabbed a bearskin cloak from the wall and shook it out forcefully.

"Tell the men to wrap up any loose ends tonight! We leave first thing tomorrow morning!"

The evening wind blew through the castle, bringing with it a hint of a chill.

Inside the two mansions, however, the lights burned bright.

Philippe’s butler was directing the servants, who were carefully wrapping a precious set of silver tableware in velvet.

Meanwhile, at the adjutant’s urging, Valerius’s attendants struggled to fit a giant shield studded with beast fangs into a leather case.

The masters of both houses were doing the exact same thing: inwardly cursing the other for being an irredeemable fool, while simultaneously feeling smug about their own genius.

They both believed they had successfully tricked their rival, leaving the idiot behind to draw all the fire.

Escape was the only thing that mattered now.

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