Lord: Starting with Biological Modification

The night was deep.

Six black shadows moved like phantoms through the streets and alleys of Newly Town.

They avoided the torches on the main road, using the shadows of buildings to close in on a warehouse district on the west side of town—the location they had pinpointed for the dungeon based on guard patrols and stations.

Cat’s Eye was the fastest. Just before reaching the target warehouse, he raised a hand. The entire squad instantly froze, melting into the darkness.

Years of experience told him that the more lax the security seemed, the more likely it was to hide a trap.

"Two sentries ahead," he gestured.

Two of his men immediately flanked them, their daggers tracing two cold arcs in the moonlight.

THUNK. THUNK.

Thin lines of blood appeared on the necks of the two guards dozing against the wall. Their bodies slumped to the ground without a sound.

"Clear."

The confirmation came from one of his men in the shadows.

Cat’s Eye’s taut nerves relaxed.

’A bunch of amateurs.’

’Maybe I was overthinking it.’

’So this is all the defensive power this new territory has.’

He gestured again.

Four-man team, breach.

Two-man team, lookout.

Cat’s Eye kicked open the dungeon’s rotten wooden door.

BOOM!

The large door collapsed inward, kicking up a cloud of dust.

Cat’s Eye and three of his men charged in right behind it, weapons aimed at the depths of the dungeon.

However, Mia wasn’t in the dungeon, bound as they had imagined.

In the very center: a table and an oil lamp.

A short man, so stout he hardly looked human, sat at the table, slowly wiping a battle-axe with an oilcloth.

The lamplight flowed over the edge of the axe, its cold gleam blinding.

Hearing the commotion, the man slowly raised his head. His face was obscured by a massive reddish-brown beard, but his eyes were startlingly bright.

"Been waiting for you a while, you dawdling pests."

Ola grinned, revealing a set of white teeth. Behind him, several Heavy Armor Knights rose from the shadows, their Longswords and shields reflecting a spectral light.

’A trap!’

Cat’s Eye’s pupils contracted. His heart sank.

He didn’t hesitate for a second. He ripped a Scroll from his breast pocket and tore it apart.

"Retreat!"

HUMMM—

A powerful psychic shockwave fanned out from him. Ola and the Knights behind him felt their minds go numb, their vision blurring for a moment.

’Now’s our chance!’

Cat’s Eye and his men had no intention of lingering. They turned and bolted.

They were assassins, not sacrificial pawns. When a mission fails, retreat is the number one priority.

They burst out of the dungeon as Ola’s exasperated roar echoed from behind them.

"You sons of bitches! Don’t you run!"

Cat’s Eye calmed himself slightly. ’As long as we break out of town and reach the swamp, we’ll survive.’

But as they burst out of the warehouse district and back onto the street, all six of them froze.

The street was filled with people.

People were everywhere, a dense crowd packed in from all sides.

Torches were lit, one after another, the flames illuminating their faces.

They were the residents of Newly Town, the same people they’d seen during the day.

A blacksmith carried a sledgehammer, a miner shouldered a pickaxe, a lumberjack clutched his felling axe, a cook held a rolling pin, and several women gripped laundry bats.

They wore no armor. Their weapons were a motley assortment.

There was no anger in their eyes, nor was there fear.

Only adoration.

Yes. Adoration.

The torchlight danced in their pupils, twisting their simple, rustic faces into something grotesque.

From somewhere in the crowd, a hoarse voice cried out.

"Two hundred points!"

Those words lit a powder keg.

"Two...! Two hundred points!"

The scalps of Cat’s Eye and his men prickled with terror.

They couldn’t comprehend what was happening.

’Why would a stealth mission against a noble mobilize the entire town’s populace?’

’Do they have a death wish?’

’We’re all experienced Level 3 Rangers, and I’m a Level 4 practitioner!’

’Fighting these farmers, who don’t even have leather armor, should be no different from a slaughter.’

Past experience told him that the moment they drew blood, this rabble would scream and scatter.

"Fight your way out!"

Cat’s Eye ordered.

His five subordinates didn’t hesitate. They drew their daggers and became five black shadows, lunging into the crowd.

One of the assassins crouched low, his dagger in a reverse grip, and charged toward an old farmer at the weakest point in the crowd.

He was fast. Someone else was faster.

A heavy pickaxe whistled in from the side, swinging late but arriving first.

CLANG!

The immense force knocked the assassin’s dagger aside, sending a numbing shock up his arm and forcing him to stagger backward.

The next moment, the surging human tide swallowed him whole.

"AHH!"

Elsewhere, "Poison Snake" had successfully broken into the crowd. His dagger flashed, leaving deep gashes on the arms and legs of three townsfolk.

Blood sprayed.

But the screams and panicked retreat he expected never came.

The wounded townsfolk merely glanced at their injuries, then, spurred on by adrenaline, retaliated with even greater ferocity.

More people surged forward.

"Get lost! Don’t get in my way!"

"I got a piece of him! I get a share of the points!"

Poison Snake’s dagger flashed out again, wounding two more.

But he could no longer move forward or back.

There were too many of them.

They were packed shoulder to shoulder, flesh pressing against flesh.

His every slash was met by a wall of hands and farming tools.

Countless rough hands grabbed his body, holding him fast.

In the chaos, two miners grabbed his right arm. A hatchet swung down, and with the sharp CRACK of splintering bone, the arm was severed at the root!

The miner who grabbed the severed arm roared in triumph, holding his trophy high for all to see.

The other townsfolk cursed in frustration, then fell upon the rest of "Poison Snake" with even greater fervor.

This wasn’t a battle.

It was a feeding frenzy.

Cat’s Eye could only watch as his men were swallowed, torn apart, and carved up by the frenzied mob, one after another.

The skills, speed, and poisons he took so much pride in were useless in this quagmire of flesh and blood.

The insane spectacle shattered his mind.

The Level 4 Ranger who called himself "Cat’s Eye" suddenly collapsed. He let out a senseless shriek as a warm wetness spread across his groin.

Ola and the Knights, who had just pursued them from the warehouse district, were also frozen in place by the sight.

The veins on the hand gripping his battle-axe bulged. Ola opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

At that moment, these battle-hardened soldiers felt a chilling cold seep into their limbs.

They had seen bloody battlefields, but never had they witnessed such a brutal, joyous slaughter.

「Lord’s Mansion. The study.」

As the clamor outside gradually subsided, Velin picked up his cup of black tea and gently blew away the steam.

Before him stood Mia. Now in a fresh set of clothes, she kept her head lowered, respectfully reporting everything she knew.

"...The power behind Hector comes from the Empire’s military department. Their goal is to create a massive Magical Beast stampede in the southern Duchy to wear down the strength of the royalist faction."

"He sent me here to retrieve the growth data on the ’Lord of Gray Swamp’ and use a special item to catalyze its final transformation. That item... I’ve already mixed it with the Original Blood Crystal and made it swallow it."

Velin’s fingers tapped slowly on the tabletop.

’The Lord of Gray Swamp’s evolution is progressing faster than expected.’

’The real hunt will have to begin soon.’

After being announced by a guard, Barrett and Ola entered.

Their armor was stained with blood, their faces pale.

"My lord."

Horror flickered in Barrett’s one good eye. His throat bobbed, as if he wanted to say something but didn’t know where to start.

"The prisoners disguised as guards are dead... The six Rangers... have been dealt with. The townsfolk..."

Ola stood to the side, the normally boisterous Half-Dwarf as silent as a stone. He just stared at Velin with a complicated expression.

Velin rose from his seat and walked to the window.

He looked down upon the "feast" below as it began to disperse.

The townsfolk who had claimed their "share" were now running gleefully toward the points-registration office.

Those who hadn’t gotten one walked away dejectedly, sighing as they went.

The torchlight cast the scene in a hellish, ghostly glow.