Lord: Starting with Biological Modification

News of Viscount Ferrier’s arrest reached Count Leman’s manor after breakfast.

Inside the study, Count Leman sat behind his desk, his face etched with exhaustion.

The cup of tea in his hand had gone completely cold.

The Count stared at the tea, making no move to drink it.

"Ferrier’s been arrested. It happened at dawn today. Those mad dogs from the Judicial Court dragged him right out of bed—they have witnesses and physical evidence! The Church moved faster and more ruthlessly than I imagined."

Leman’s voice was tinged with panic.

"We have to leave the Royal Capital at once! I’ve already arranged an escape route. We have to go now, or it’ll be too late!"

After speaking, he stared intently at Velin.

Velin, however, sat on a sofa diagonally across from him, calmly stirring milk into his hot tea with a small silver spoon.

He looked back at Leman, a flicker of doubt crossing his mind. ’How could someone who usually seems so shrewd and calculating be this panicked today?’

’Is the Church in this world really that powerful?’

He had no choice but to patiently analyze the current situation for Leman, point by point.

"Uncle, don’t worry too much. We’re nowhere near the point of needing to flee. Lilia and I sensed the danger last night, so we’ve already destroyed all the evidence related to the auction."

"Viscount Ferrier has been navigating the political mire of the Royal Capital for years; he’s no fool. He won’t readily spill the truth unless he’s truly cornered. Besides, what he knows isn’t enough to implicate the Klein Clan."

"So, whatever ’witness testimony’ the Church has is nothing to be afraid of."

The "anxiety" in Count Leman’s eyes froze for a moment. He sat up straight, his scrutinizing gaze turning sharp.

Velin didn’t notice and continued his analysis, word by word.

"This move by the Church may look like a thunderous strike, but in reality, it’s all bark and no bite."

"They deliberately spread these rumors to make us panic, lose our composure, and flee in disarray."

"The moment we run, it’s as good as admitting guilt to everyone, confirming all their accusations."

Leman slowly sat back in his chair, leaning against the backrest. His previously tense body relaxed completely.

He looked at his nephew, who remained calm even in the face of crisis, and his admiration grew.

The scene just now was a pressure test he performed before entering into deep cooperation with any other power.

He wanted to see if this young man, in whom he had placed such high hopes, would crumble in the face of annihilation or reveal his true mettle.

Velin’s performance had left him very satisfied; it had even exceeded his expectations.

"So, what do you think we should do?"

Leman’s tone, shedding its earlier discomposure, returned to its usual steadiness.

Velin then realized what had just happened.

He gave a cold smile. "Wait."

"Wait for them to come."

"And then, in front of all the nobles of the Royal Capital, we will tell them..."

"...that the Klein Clan is not to be trifled with."

The words had barely left his lips.

The sound of synchronized footsteps echoed from the street outside the manor.

Count Leman and Velin exchanged a glance.

There was not a hint of surprise on either of their faces.

A servant knocked frantically on the study door, his voice trembling.

"Your Lordship... the people from the Church... they’re here!"

"Let them in." After saying this, he walked out of the study.

Velin downed the milk tea in his hand in one gulp and followed Count Leman out.

In the main hall, two groups of people were standing.

Leading them was the same middle-aged Judge who had previously shut down the "Golden Acorn," the smug look on his face undisguised.

Behind him stood four menacing friars, their hands resting on their Magic Staffs.

And at his sides, two Imperial Knights stood in full plate armor that glinted with a cold, sinister light.

The Imperial crest on their chests represented the Empire’s supreme authority in the Haiti Kingdom.

Seeing Leman, the Judge stepped forward and raised the Scroll in his hand high. His voice boomed, deliberately making every word echo through the hall.

"Count Leman Klein, you are suspected of organizing and selling blasphemous, forbidden medicine, a grave violation of the ’Blood Purity Act.’ By order of the Judicial Court, I am here to escort you to the Noble Law Court for trial."

He spoke the last few words with particular force.

Count Leman’s expression didn’t change; he didn’t even raise an eyelid.

Seeing him remain silent, the Judge assumed he was afraid, and the sneer on his face deepened.

"Count Leman, I know what you want to say, but we have both witnesses and physical evidence. Don’t even think about denying it!"

He took another step forward, his face nearly touching Leman’s, and lowered his voice to a volume only a few could hear. "Today, I’m arresting you! No one can stop me! You’d better come with me quietly. Otherwise, I wouldn’t mind if something were to happen to you on the way to the court..."

Before he could finish his sentence.

SLAP—!

The crisp sound of a slap echoed through the hall.

Time seemed to freeze. Everyone was stunned. The pupils of the two Imperial Knights contracted sharply.

The Judge clutched his left cheek, which was already turning red and swelling, and stared in disbelief at the blasphemous sinner before him.

’He actually... dared to strike a Judge of the Church?!’

Count Leman slowly retracted his right hand, then, with extreme disdain, elegantly brushed off a speck of nonexistent dust from the Judge’s collar.

"Judge," Leman said politely, "have you perhaps forgotten that this is the manor of the Klein Clan, not your filthy Judicial Court?"

His gaze sharpened, piercing into the Judge’s eyes.

"You just said you were going to ’arrest’ me?"

"According to Volume Two of the Customary Law of the Haiti Kingdom, Article Three of the ’Ordinance of Noble Honor’: Any use of threatening words such as ’arrest’ or ’bind’ toward a hereditary noble, or any act of physical contact, can be considered a direct attack on their personal and familial honor. The insulted noble has the right to retaliate immediately and proportionately to defend their honor."

The Judge’s face flushed a deep, mottled red. He wanted to argue, but couldn’t utter a single word.

In his attempt to apply pressure, he had indeed said "arrest you."

’That old fox was waiting for me right here!’

Count Leman no longer looked at him, turning his gaze to the two Imperial Knights and giving a slight nod.

"I trust you both heard. I was defending the honor of the Klein Clan."

The two Imperial Knights remained perfectly still, their gazes fixed forward, completely impassive.

Their only duty was to bear witness; they would never get involved in a conflict of honor sparked by the Judge’s own verbal misstep.

Only then did the Count look back at the Judge, speaking word by word.

"Now, let me inform you of something else. According to Article Seven of the ’Ordinance of Noble Honor’: Any hereditary noble with a landed fief, when facing accusations other than treason, has the right to a preparatory period of three solar days to summon witnesses and organize their defense."

"For these three days, I am not going anywhere. I will remain here, in my manor."

His voice was filled with the authority of a noble with true power.

"The honor of the Klein Clan is not for the likes of you to tarnish."

The Judge’s body trembled slightly, from both rage and humiliation.

He stared daggers at Leman and finally squeezed a few words through his clenched teeth.

"Good... Very good!"

He rolled up the Scroll, his venomous gaze sweeping over Leman and Velin.

"From this moment on, this manor is under full surveillance! Not even a fly will get out!"

With that, he flung his sleeve dramatically and stormed off with his men, leaving in a huff.

The hall fell silent once more.

Count Leman watched their retreating figures and slowly let out a breath.

He turned to Velin, who had been watching coolly from the sidelines the entire time, and said softly,

"Now, the real war is just beginning."