Lord: Starting with Biological Modification

The dam burst. The votes for the young Baron began to surge at a terrifying rate.

The scribe's voice went from steady to hurried, and then, eventually, it became almost mechanical in its repetition.

With every vote he announced, the faces of the Iron Wall Marquis's supporters grew a shade paler.

The whispers and smiles from the Iron Wall Marquis's section vanished.

In their place was a kind of suppressed silence.

Everyone's eyes were fixed on the ballots in the chief scribe's hands.

The composure on the Iron Wall Marquis's face was gone. His straight back had grown slightly rigid, and his gaze shifted from its initial calm to scrutiny, and then to incredulous shock.

He stared intently at the vote-counting scribe, as if trying to bore through the pieces of parchment with his eyes.

The scribe's voice echoed under the dome, each announcement causing some nobles to unconsciously shift in their seats or reach for the hilts of the swords at their waists.

Finally, the last ballot was raised high.

"Granting... development rights to Baron Velin Klein!"

The chief scribe lowered his hand, fine beads of sweat dotting his forehead.

He picked up his quill, wrote the final numbers on the tally sheet, his voice a little dry with a sense of unreality.

"The count is over! Total votes cast: seventy-three. The final results are as follows..."

He took a deep breath.

"In favor of 'Imperial Stewardship': seventeen votes."

"In favor of 'Granting development rights to Baron Velin Klein'... fifty-six votes!"

Fifty-six votes.

The moment this number was announced, there were no cheers or applause in the council hall.

Only a heavy, unsettling silence.

The Iron Wall Marquis sat there, motionless, all the color drained from his face.

He even wondered if there was something wrong with his hearing, or if this whole council session was just some absurd afternoon dream.

Seventeen to fifty-six?

'How is this possible!'

He whipped his head around to look at the "allies" behind him.

The Counts and Viscounts who were usually so obsequious toward him were now all staring at the patterns on their boots, not one of them daring to meet his gaze.

Betrayal.

It wasn't just the wavering neutral parties; even someone from within his core pro-Empire faction had abandoned him!

He had become the most humiliating laughingstock in this power struggle!

His movement broke the spell, and the hall came back to life. After a collective sigh of relief, people couldn't help but begin talking quietly with those around them.

A tide of discussion surged through the room.

Everyone looked with awe upon Marquis Lorenzo, who had remained calm and composed from start to finish.

The speech was just a feint.

His methods, which had long ago infiltrated the enemy's ranks without a sound, were the truly fatal blow!

With this stunning reversal, the name Velin Klein was now seared into the minds of everyone at the core of the Duchy's power.

In the gallery, Velin remained seated.

He didn't look at the nobles who were casting friendly or probing glances his way.

Since the middle of the meeting, his attention had been fixed on a corner of the council hall's second floor.

There was an inconspicuous gallery there, reserved for observers from the Church and the Empire.

A person dressed in the robes of a high-ranking priest of the Eternal Radiance Church had been sitting in the shadows the entire time.

Velin couldn't see his face, but he could feel that person's gaze fixed on him.

After the council was adjourned, the nobles began to leave. Many of them proactively nodded to Velin in acknowledgment, their attitude a stark contrast to when they had arrived.

Velin paid them no mind and immediately sent Tristan to investigate.

Tristan returned shortly, his expression somewhat grim.

"My lord."

"The person was wearing Church vestments. I found out that a bishop from the Eternal Radiance Church observed the entire meeting."

Velin calculated silently in his mind.

'A bishop personally observing a vote on development rights is unusual in itself.'

'Awakening Tristan's bloodline in exchange for Marquis Lorenzo's support—that move paid off.'

'But the appearance of the Church is a new variable.'

'A variable that can't be easily predicted through exchanges of interest.'

Velin sighed to himself but quickly pulled himself together.

'As a lord in the human world, outwitting the Church is practically a daily task.'

'Since I've drawn their attention, I'll just have to deal with whatever comes my way.'

With that thought, Velin, who was about to leave the council hall, was stopped by a voice from behind.

Viscount Brian and a few other nobles strode over, their faces wreathed in enthusiastic smiles.

"Baron Klein, congratulations." Brian's attitude was completely different from their first meeting. The condescending air of a senior guiding a junior was gone, replaced by a desire to befriend an equal. "A brilliant debate. Your analysis of the situation changed many minds."

"Indeed," another Count chimed in. "With the development rights in your hands, we southern lords can rest easy. If those people from the Empire got their hands on it, they'd just make a mess of things."

Velin listened to their praises calmly, offering simple nods in acknowledgment.

Just then, Marquis Lorenzo walked over.

He ignored the others and walked straight up to Velin, but his gaze fell upon the desolate figure of the Iron Wall Marquis in the distance.

"Some people think that gathering factions and making threats is the entirety of power."

"But they forget that the truth is the sturdiest weapon. When a plan is thorough enough and the benefits are clear enough, it has the power to convince people all on its own."

He turned his head back to look at Velin.

"I only invited a few old friends to re-evaluate the future. The rest of the votes, you won yourself, Baron."

"Your reasoning was far more real than his threats."

After listening, Viscount Brian chimed in at the right moment, asking, "However, Lord Velin, the pirates in the south are indeed a big problem. Are you truly confident you can handle them?"

Velin revealed a confident smile.

"The Grey Marsh Territory never shies away from a challenge."

「That evening.」

A private dinner was held in the Oak Hall of Marquis Lorenzo's residence.

Dry applewood burned in the fireplace with a soft CRACKLE, and the warm, woody scent of agarwood drifted through the air.

There were no musicians in the hall, only the low murmur of conversation and the occasional crisp chime of crystal glasses clinking together.

Not many people were in attendance.

But each one was an ally Marquis Lorenzo had known for decades, including the minister of finance who oversaw the Royal Capital's mint, and a legion commander recently rotated back from the Eastern Territory.

These people were the true pillars of the Duchy.

Velin stood quietly to one side, listening to them talk.

He rarely spoke first, but whenever someone asked him about southern shipping or the governance of his territory, his answers were always concise and to the point.

"This young man from the Klein Family, I see shades of his grandfather in his prime," the finance minister murmured to a friend beside him, holding his wine glass.

The man nodded, his gaze falling on Velin. "More than that. He's even more composed than old Klein was at the same age. Look at his eyes, so calm and steady. He hasn't let the victory in the council go to his head."

When the dinner party reached its peak, Marquis Lorenzo set down his glass and clapped his hands gently to get everyone's attention.

He then took a Magic Staff from the hands of his eldest son.

The entire staff was carved from a milky-white wood, with silvery streams of light flowing through its grain. At its head was an amber stone the size of a fist, inside which a miniature starry sky seemed to be sealed.

"Star Meteor Wood!"

The legion commander recognized it, his voice tinged with astonishment.

"The miracle tree that grows only in the 'Falling Star Valley' within Lord Lorenzo's domain. It's said the tree grows in the direction of fallen meteors."

The Marquis handed the Magic Staff to Velin.

"It is not suited for offense, but it can significantly amplify Spiritual Power and purify the effects of the Magic Potions you concoct. A congratulatory gift, for the Lorenzo family's staunchest ally."

Velin took it.

A tranquil power flowed from the staff into his body, clarifying the thoughts that had been tense for days.

"Thank you for your generosity, Lord Marquis."

Tristan stood behind his father, watching this unfold.

He knew this Magic Staff was not just a gift, but a political declaration.

His father was using one of the family's most precious resources to show his allies how much he valued Velin.