Lord: Starting with Biological Modification

Chapter 298: Chapter 293: Framing Velin

「Hundreds of miles away, at Wind Crow Castle.」

Valerius sat in the main seat of the great hall. A whole roasted lamb was laid out on the long oak table.

He tore off a sizzling, greasy leg with his bare hands and took a savage bite, as if venting some frustration.

A Knight captain strode into the hall. His armor was beaded with water, a clear sign he had galloped through the rain to get here.

"My lord, news from Light City."

Valerius didn’t even look up. He just kept tearing at the tough lamb with his teeth, letting out a low grunt from his throat.

"Speak."

"That group from the church... they’re gone." The Knight captain’s voice was a bit hoarse. "They left on the third day after you and Count Philippe departed. The old priest at the church in Light City said it was just a Priest from a church in Grey Marsh Territory, visiting an old friend on his master’s orders."

The only sounds in the hall were of chewing and rain tapping against the stone windows.

After a long moment, Valerius stopped moving.

He looked down at the half-eaten leg in his hand. Greasy juices dripped through his fingers, pooling on the floor in a small, viscous puddle of yellow and red.

"A visit?"

He repeated the word, and for some reason, the Knight captain felt a chill.

He casually tossed the leg back onto the cold silver platter and picked up the ale beside him.

"CRASH!"

He smashed the metal goblet on the floor, sending ale splashing everywhere.

"Fuck!"

A furious roar exploded in the hall.

"He fucking played me!"

Valerius shot to his feet and kicked the heavy oak table in front of him.

The long table let out a series of groans and overturned with a CLATTER, sending the roasted lamb and plates tumbling across the floor.

"A mud-crawling peasant from the swamps! He took me for a fool!"

An adjutant, hearing the commotion, rushed in. He stopped at the doorway, taking in the wreckage on the floor and the enraged Valerius.

"My lord!"

"I will never let him get away with this!" Valerius, his eyes crimson red, roared at the adjutant. "I’ll make him pay!"

「Meanwhile, in Maple City.」

In Philippe’s study, an expensive whale-oil lamp was lit, and the faint scent of Dragon Blood Grass lingered in the air.

His intelligence chief stood silently to one side of the study.

"My lord, the information has been confirmed. That group was not an inquisition squad. The leader’s name is Fabian, a subordinate of Velin Klein."

Philippe was holding a small pair of silver scissors, focused on pruning a pot of Dragon Blood Grass that had been shipped from the Royal Capital.

His hand was steady as he snipped off a superfluous, curled leaf with an elegant motion.

"I see."

He set down the scissors and picked up the stemmed glass beside him.

The deep red Riemann Wine in the glass reflected his calm face.

He recalled Velin’s casual remark at the banquet.

"My pet has indigestion."

He remembered the farmer who had fallen at just the right moment, and that "holy" light of healing.

He remembered the secret pacts he had burned in the fireplace, the residual warmth of the ashes seeming to still sear his nerves.

"SNAP."

A sound so faint it was almost inaudible.

The slender stem of the wineglass had silently snapped between his long fingers.

The sharp edge of the glass cut his skin, and a bead of blood welled up.

He released his grip, letting the remains of the glass fall to the floor.

He walked over to the map of the Duchy hanging on the wall, his gaze sweeping across the various noble territories.

He thought of many ways to get revenge: an economic blockade, dispatching assassins, supporting opposition within the Grey Marsh Territory... But they were all too slow, and not satisfying enough.

Unfortunately, the way he and Valerius had fled the Dawn Territory was too disgraceful. They had lost most of their influence there, and Diana would never give them another chance.

Otherwise, he truly wanted to lead his men back to Light City and fight that little man from the swamp face-to-face.

His finger moved slowly across the map, finally stopping on a sun-shaped family crest in the southern lands.

The Sun Clan.

"Roland Sun, Diana’s cousin." Philippe spoke, his voice betraying no emotion. "Has he finished his knightly tour?"

The intelligence chief stepped forward from the shadows.

"He has, my lord. Based on his route, he should arrive near the Dawn Territory in half a month at most."

"Excellent."

Philippe turned around, the elegant, composed mask gone from his face, replaced by a dark, grim expression.

’If I can’t have it, neither can you. The master of the Dawn Territory? A mere opportunist who clawed his way up with schemes and tricks—is he even worthy?’

He returned to his desk and sat down.

"Send someone to Wind Crow Castle to see Valerius. Tell him that if all he wants is to vent his anger with brute force, then he’ll forever be nothing more than a boor." Philippe’s voice was ice-cold. "But if he wants to see that swamp boy thrown out of the Dawn Territory... tell him to meet me at Three Forks River."

...

「Three days later, at Three Forks River Mouth Town.」

On the second floor of the town’s largest inn, an entire suite of rooms had been booked.

Philippe and Valerius sat facing each other.

"Borrowing a knife to kill someone?" Valerius scoffed after hearing Philippe’s plan. "Your convoluted tricks are as insidious as ever."

"It is the most respectable method, Your Grace," Philippe said slowly and deliberately.

"Roland Sun despises nothing more than people who tarnish the honor of the nobility with schemes and trickery. We don’t need to do anything. We just need to tell him the ’facts’."

"Facts?" Valerius leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "You call that pile of fabrications ’facts’?"

"Of course they are facts." Philippe leaned forward slightly, his voice carrying a persuasive, bewitching power.

"Velin Klein, a Pioneer Baron of unknown origin, used deceitful means to drive away two distinguished suitors. Then, he used his bewitching agricultural techniques to buy the loyalty of vassals, intending to get his hands on the Dawn family’s assets and title. Is this not the truth?"

Valerius stared into Philippe’s eyes and was silent for a moment.

Suddenly, he grinned, revealing a ferocious smile.

"I like this story. Let’s do it."

He extended his massive hand.

Philippe also extended his hand, and they shook.

This time, their objective was perfectly aligned.

Philippe’s servant quickly brought a quill and parchment.

"To the esteemed Knight Roland Sun. Please forgive my forwardness, but a scandal concerning the honor of the Dawn family has forced me to intrude upon your journey..."

Valerius watched from the side, interrupting from time to time in his gruff voice.

"Stop with the bullshit! Just tell him there’s this punk named Velin who tried to buy Diana with a shiny pearl, acting like a damn brothel owner!"

Philippe rephrased Valerius’s crude words into something more high-sounding: "...the man has furthermore used rare treasures as bait to buy people’s loyalties, a behavior no different from that of a common merchant, and a great insult to the spirit of the nobility."

"And the fake priest!" Valerius slammed the table. "Tell Roland that punk impersonated a clergyman, blasphemed against the gods, and deserves to be hanged!"

"...to achieve his goals, this person has even gone so far as to disguise himself as a church official to create panic. This act is not only a blasphemy against the divine, but also a blatant challenge to the order of the territory."

And so the letter was concocted, through this call-and-response.

In the letter, Velin was painted as a meticulous schemer, and Diana as a naive young woman who had been deceived.

And the two of them were portrayed as righteous men, deeply pained, who had tried to save the honor of the Dawn family only to be driven away by trickery.

The letter was finished.

Philippe checked it over carefully one more time, nodding in satisfaction.

He rolled up the parchment and carefully sealed it with wax.

"Use the best messenger. Have him ride day and night, and make sure this is delivered personally into the hands of Knight Roland."

Valerius, meanwhile, summoned his adjutant, a cruel smile on his face.

"Have your men spread out. Go to all the towns, taverns, mills, and any place with people around the Dawn Territory. Spread a rumor."

The adjutant bowed.

"Your orders, my lord."

"Just say that the powerful Sun Clan of the south is furious about Countess Diana’s private dealings with a swamp Baron. And that they will never allow the noble blood of the Dawn family to be tainted by an opportunist of unknown origin."

The adjutant’s eyes lit up.

"I understand, my lord. This will completely crush any ideas those fence-sitters might have."

"Get it done."

The servant took the letter, still warm from the wax, and hurried downstairs.

Soon, the sound of urgent hoofbeats rang out as a lone rider charged out of town, galloping south until he disappeared into the twilight.

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