Lord: Starting with Biological Modification

Velin and his two companions did not linger in the small town.

A repressive atmosphere filled the square after the execution, and both Ola and Ryo lost all interest in conversation.

Thus, they did not disturb the local lord, staying the night at the town’s only tavern before setting off early the next morning.

Two more days passed before Zelheim, the Royal Capital, finally appeared on the horizon.

Nefarian broke through a layer of clouds, and the view suddenly opened up.

A magnificent city built upon canals stretched out below them.

The last time Velin had entered and exited by land, he had been in a hurry and unable to take in the full view.

Now, looking down from the sky, its beauty was enough to astonish even Velin, a man from a modern world.

Dozens of wide canals served as the city’s main arteries, their surfaces shimmering in the sunlight.

Man-made islands of all sizes were scattered like stars, connected by hundreds of uniquely designed stone bridges, forming the city’s vast and intricate skeleton.

At the city’s estuary, several giant floodgates stood like silent titans. Their surfaces were engraved with complex Runes that would light up in sequence with the rising and falling tides, driving the gates to open and close. This maintained the stability of the canal water levels, making the entire city seem to breathe in a steady rhythm.

"Whoa, this place is huge... How many people must live here?" Ola was dumbfounded, watching from mid-air.

Ryo, however, remained silent. His gaze traveled past the layers of magnificent rooftops, settling on an area on the city’s west side shrouded in a pale blue magical ward.

That was the Royal Capital Mage Academy, a place where he could only once linger at the gates, unable to afford the tuition.

"You are entering the Royal Capital’s airspace! State your identity!"

Two Griffin Knights emerged from behind a cloud, blocking their path.

The Griffins sensed Nefarian’s presence and let out hostile shrieks.

Nefarian felt the threat, but Velin’s Spiritual Power soothed it, so it only let out a low growl and did not show excessive fear.

The lead Griffin Knight noticed the Pegasus’s composure in the face of its natural enemy. He realized this was no ordinary Pegasus and began to appraise its rider with greater scrutiny.

"Please present your identification."

Velin took the Baron’s insignia from his coat and showed it to them.

The insignia was uniformly produced by the Mage Association. It was embedded with a thread of Mithril that produced a unique Magic Power resonance in response to specific detection Magic, making it extremely costly to forge.

It wasn’t that forgery was impossible—rather, those capable of forging the insignia were often nobles themselves.

"Velin Klein, Pioneer Baron of the Grey Marsh Territory."

The Knight scanned the insignia with a Crystal Plate, and after confirming the Magic Power resonance was correct, his tone softened.

"Baron Klein, please follow us and land on Platform Three."

Nefarian followed the Griffins, slowly descending.

He followed them down and landed smoothly on the hard stone platform.

Velin dismounted and pressed a few Silver Moons into the hand of the servant responsible for looking after the mounts.

The servant’s face immediately lit up, and he eagerly led Nefarian to a stable where it would be under special care.

Velin and his companions first went to Count Leman’s mansion in the Royal Capital.

Leman usually stayed in Green Vein City to handle family affairs and was rarely in the Royal Capital.

Velin had the butler arrange for Ola and Ryo to settle in and rest.

After seeing to all this, Velin did not rest, nor did he head directly to the Noble Council.

He changed into a set of inconspicuous plain clothes and left the Count’s Mansion alone on horseback.

’I need an ally,’ he thought, ’one with some weight in the Noble Council and a clear stance. Before setting out, Caroline and I already screened a list of candidates, and Viscount Ferrier’s name was at the very top.’

The Klein Clan had done Ferrier the great favor of helping him continue his bloodline.

Ferrier’s retraction of his testimony in court had placed him in complete opposition to the Church, forcing him to align with the Duchy’s native noble factions.

Most importantly, Ferrier was known in the council for his sincerity, and he was surrounded by a group of minor and mid-level nobles in similar situations.

Velin arrived before Viscount Ferrier’s mansion but did not present a calling card. Instead, he took out a round wooden token engraved with the Klein Clan’s crest and handed it to the guard at the gate.

The guard recognized the crest and did not dare to be negligent, immediately heading inside to announce the visitor.

Soon, Viscount Ferrier himself came out from the mansion to greet him.

He looked much better than he had in court. The puffiness under his eyes had subsided, though his complexion was still somewhat pale.

"Baron Klein, your visit is quite a surprise," Ferrier said, his expression restrained.

Visits between nobles were usually arranged by letter in advance. Arriving unannounced like this was considered discourteous.

"Please forgive my presumptuous visit, Viscount," Velin said as he followed him into the drawing room.

In the drawing room, a lady with a visibly pregnant belly stood up and gave Velin a curtsy.

It was Mrs. Ferrier. Her face showed a tranquility and happiness that she couldn’t hide.

"I was just passing by and thought I would stop in to see you, Your Lordship."

After sitting down, Velin pushed a wooden box across to Ferrier.

"A little local specialty from the Grey Marsh Territory. Smoked black-fin swamp eels and some iron-cap mushrooms. They taste quite good."

Ferrier opened it and glanced inside. The contents weren’t particularly valuable, but they were impeccably cleaned and sorted, wrapped in oil paper and tied with fine string.

Velin thought for a moment, then was the first to speak.

"Last time in court, I deeply empathized with your situation, Your Lordship."

Ferrier’s hand, holding his teacup, paused for a moment.

"That feeling of being cornered, of having to make a choice for the sake of your family—not everyone can understand that," Velin continued. "You are a brave father."

Ferrier looked up and stared at Velin.

He set down his teacup and leaned back against the sofa.

"You flatter me, Baron. I only did what I had to do."

"You saved your family," Velin corrected him.

Those few simple words stirred the memories of both Viscount Ferrier and his wife, and their gazes softened even more.

The two men were silent for a moment, but the slightly awkward atmosphere that had just filled the drawing room was gone.

"I hear that your development of the Grey Marsh Territory is proceeding smoothly, Baron?" Ferrier took the initiative to break the silence.

"Everything is going according to plan," Velin nodded. "I’ve built a port. The first phase of the wharf and shipyard is expected to be operational before next year’s rainy season. Miss Caroline of the Golden Sail Commerce Association has already signed for exclusive use of all deep-water berths for the next three years."

Ferrier leaned forward slightly.

The Golden Sail Commerce Association. He had heard that name.

’For that high and mighty woman to book the berths for three years means this port’s potential must be astonishing.’

He reassessed the young man before him.

’First, he got involved in the family’s Magic Potion business, and now he’s managing his territory with great success. This is no simple young man.’

Ferrier’s attitude shifted from polite courtesy to sincere gravity.

Velin observed the change in him, knowing the time was right.

"Viscount, I came to the Royal Capital this time to submit an application for pioneering rights to the Noble Council."

"Oh? And what piece of the Duchy’s land is the Baron interested in?"

"The Southern Archipelago."

The smile on Ferrier’s face vanished.

He lifted his teacup but didn’t drink, instead repeatedly using the lid to stir the black tea leaves floating inside.

The atmosphere in the drawing room grew heavy.

"Baron Klein, do you know what you’re saying?" Ferrier put down his teacup and looked at Velin with grave seriousness.

"I do."

"That is a chaotic land overrun by pirates. The council has been unable to do anything about it for decades."

"That’s why I’m applying for pioneering rights," Velin said. "I will solve the pirate problem myself."

Ferrier fell silent.

He stood up and began to pace back and forth in the drawing room.

After a long while, he finally stopped.

"I can help you submit the application. As repayment for your... help to my wife and child."

"Thank you."

"However," Ferrier’s tone shifted, "I must remind you, Baron Klein, that the politics of the Royal Capital are far more complex than developing a piece of land."

"Especially when a matter involves the Holy Second Empire."

Ferrier’s expression was incredibly solemn.

"Beneath the surface of this chess game lies the Empire. You must think through every move you make."