AN: Massive Chapter. Enjoy!
"And how did you find out Lance's name was involved?"
"Inspector Barrett from the Hillston Police Department used to work under Viscount Barton. I got the information from him." August said without a single shed of nervousness in his posture.
Lorien only narrowed his eyes slightly, but he let it go.
"Go check out the full details regarding Tussock Times."
"Yes, sir."
---
In Empress Borough, within the luxurious mansion of Earl Hall.
Audrey Hall, dressed in a long gown with ruffled cuffs, stepped out of her private chemistry laboratory. Ever since she had entered that mysterious space in the morning and joined Mr. Fool's Tarot Club, she had been unusually cheerful. It was clear she had truly come into contact with the mystical world of Beyonders.
As the daughter of Earl Hall, the Earl of East chester County and one of the top three bankers in the Loen Kingdom, Audrey had some understanding of Beyonders. However, her knowledge was limited to knowing that the three major churches and the royal family had Beyonders - nothing more.
Now that she had finally encountered true mystical power, Audrey's desire to become a Beyonder grew even stronger. After attending a luncheon banquet, she had rushed home to conduct her Mysticism experiments.
Naturally, they all failed.
Disheartened by her failures a little, Audrey now looked forward to the next week's Tarot Club even more. If all went well, she would obtain the formula for the Spectator potion and officially become a Beyonder.
Audrey had property, farmland, pastures, mines, jewelry, stocks, and bonds to her name. Together, they were valued at 300,000 pounds.
This was her share of the family inheritance, though she only held it in name until her father passed away or she got married. Until then, she merely received an annual stipend.
Even so, her yearly income ranged between 15,000 to 25,000 pounds, making her one of the richest women among the nobles in the entire Loen Kingdom.
Besides, if she simply instructed her maid Anne to procure ghost shark blood for an experiment, it would be arranged without even requiring payment. With two older brothers who would inherit the title and main estate, Audrey was adored by both her father and brothers. All her hobbies were covered by the family's public accounts.
She truly couldn't wait for next week's Tarot Club! The enigmatic and powerful Mr. Fool, the dangerous Mr. Hanged Man, and that mysterious man who chose the "Emperor" card...
That very morning, at the official commissioning ceremony of the Pritz, Audrey had deliberately observed the royal princes. As she had not yet turned eighteen, she had not attended the "Introduction Ceremony" - a formal debut into Backlund's high society led by the Queen. Therefore, she had only met the princes in passing.
Although Audrey had yet to become a Spectator yet, her keen feminine intuition allowed her to discern that none of the princes were Mr Emperor from the Tarot Club. However, her focused observations led the princes to believe that she was interested in them. Throughout the banquet, they kept finding excuses to speak with her.
Audrey had flawless beauty, graceful manners, immense wealth, a prestigious lineage, and an influential father - qualities that made her an ideal marriage candidate in the eyes of the princes. Whichever prince married her would gain a stronger foothold in the battle for the throne. After all, primogeniture was fragile when it came to royal succession - it could be shattered in an instant.
George III's eldest son, Prince Jevington once again hinted at his past promises, suggesting that if Audrey became his princess, she would gain access to legendary Beyonder powers. Meanwhile, Prince Edessak was relentlessly attentive, making Audrey extremely uncomfortable. She had to rely on her mother to finally escape his persistence.
"It seems that our Backlund's Most Dazzling Gem has succeeded in her experiment!"
Dressed in a dark brown vest and holding a newspaper, Earl Hall looked at Audrey with a smile. Everyone in the Hall family knew that Audrey was an enthusiast of mystical knowledge and liked conducting small experiments, though they always ended in failure.
Earl Hall had never stopped her. He had warned her about the dos and don'ts of Mysticism, and his daughter understood those boundaries well.
"Father, I told you not to call me that," Audrey said, feeling both exasperated and embarrassed.
"Haha, alright. So, did your experiment succeed?"
After his playful remark, Earl Hall got to the point. Normally, Audrey would come out of the laboratory feeling disappointed and frustrated, but today, she was beaming. Failure wasn't concerning, but success could be dangerous.
Audrey deliberately put on a dejected expression before adding with a hint of excitement, "No, but I'm close! I've already asked Anne to prepare the materials. Next time, I'll definitely succeed!" She even clenched her fists, giving herself an encouraging gesture that was far from ladylike.
Earl Hall didn't mind. Audrey had said the same thing before, only to fail again. Shaking his head, he turned his attention back to the Backlund Evening Post in his hands, his expression growing serious.
"Father, what is it? Did something major happened?" Audrey asked, as she noticed his sudden change in demeanor. Today's biggest event was the commissioning of the Pritz - surely, that was a cause for celebration!
"Nozick's son Lance was caught up in a shooting incident. He was shot in the left arm with a revolver."
As a noble with real political power and a major figure in the Loen Kingdom's politics, Earl Hall immediately recognized the deeper forces at play in this matter. However, he only gave Audrey a superficial account. It was not yet time for his daughter to be involved in such affairs.
Audrey knew that Nozick was one of the New Party's leaders and couldn't help but worry. "How badly is Lance injured? Should we go visit him?"
Earl Hall laughed heartily while folding his newspaper. "Such matters hardly require my little princess to step in. Your knight will handle it."
"Father!"
Audrey blushed furiously and hurried out of the drawing room.
As soon as she left, Earl Hall's expression became stern. He turned to his personal valet and instructed, "Go to Nozick and tell him not to take unnecessary actions. Otherwise, the Conservatives will use this as an opportunity for retaliation. I will visit the Prime Minister's office tomorrow to discuss this with the Prime Minister and Duke Negan. The two parties must not engage in conflict at this time."
Loen had suffered defeat in its war with Feysac. If the two political factions clashed now, the Feysac Empire would seize the opportunity to take another bite out of Loen's wounded state.
---
Grimm Garden Street, Lorien's residence.
At eleven in the evening, after a brief rest, Lorien got up from bed, retrieved a shirt, a handkerchief, and a hat from his wardrobe, and silently opened the door, stepping out of his bedroom.
August had yet to uncover the full details regarding the shooting reported in the Tussock Times. In this era, aside from the government and political parties, few people interacted with newspaper magnates.
With industrialized paper-making and printing becoming increasingly advanced, the price of a newspaper had dropped to a mere penny, making it accessible to a wider audience.
Moreover, the literacy rate in Loen was not particularly low. A survey from two years ago revealed that 25.41% of Loen's male population and 41.24% of its female population were illiterate. This meant at least 65% of the population could read, though that did not necessarily mean they read newspapers.
Most newspapers were written for the elite of the Loen Kingdom, or at the very least, the middle and lower-middle classes. A product of the Roselle Industrial Revolution is the ever-expanding working-class population, they rarely read newspapers - firstly, because they had no time, as the factory owners wished they could work 24 hours a day, and secondly, because no newspaper was truly tailored to the working class.
However, as literacy rates continued to rise, the foundation of a commercial press had begun to take shape.
Lorien carefully climbed over the wall to leave his villa. His estate had two gatekeepers who took turns guarding the entrance and were also responsible for delivering letters, calling cards, and gifts on his behalf.
Stepping onto the broad and open Grimm Garden Street, he found himself on a road wide enough to accommodate four carriages traveling side by side. In the expensive real estate of Backlund's West Borough, such extravagance was rare. However, in Empress Borough, many noble villas were situated along streets capable of holding six carriages simultaneously, built to accommodate the guests of the great aristocrats. Nearby, King's Avenue could even allow ten carriages to run side by side, with the Backlund subway passing directly beneath it.
Heading south along King's Avenue, Lorien carefully avoided the occasional patrolling constables. This was the affluent West Borough of Backlund, where the local police station received substantial annual donations from the residents. Naturally, the West Borough police returned the favor by offering their services in kind.
Fortunately, gas lamps stood at fifty-meter intervals along the road. Each was roughly the height of a grown man, its black metal frame pressed against the glass, forming a lattice that encased the classical lantern-like fixtures.
Lorien relied on the dim, yellowish glow from these gas lamps. Though his eyesight had not been specifically enhanced by a potion, as a Beyonder, his vision was still far sharper than that of ordinary people, allowing him to evade patrols with relative ease.
However, the shirt and the handkerchief he used as a mask felt a bit restrictive. Lorien let out a quiet breath and unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt. The Barbarian potion had enhanced his agility, making swift movements and dodges easier, but he still preferred a bit more freedom.
Rather than taking the routes through Hillston Borough or Cherwood Borough, he headed directly south toward the Backlund Bridge, then crossed the bridge to the East Borough. This added nearly a third more distance to his journey but was considerably safer. Both Hillston Borough, with its bustling commerce, and Cherwood Borough, with its dense residential population, were areas of keen interest for both the police and the church's Beyonders.
Upon reaching the Backlund Bridge area, the buildings appeared significantly more run-down. Workers dressed as vagabonds lay scattered across makeshift beds of old newspapers.
Few bothered to drive them away, despite the fact that the "Poor Law" explicitly forbade vagrants from sleeping on the streets and in parks.
That was because the police in this area rarely patrolled. After all, no one was paying them to do so.
Since last month's repeal of the "Grain Act," the very workers who had protested against it did see food prices drop, but their living conditions had not improved - in fact, they had worsened.
With bankrupt farmers flooding into the cities in search of work, labor wages plummeted as jobs became fiercely contested. Many of these workers, unable to find employment, soon had no income at all, leaving them unable to afford even a patch of ground to sleep on. They were left to wander the streets, using newspapers as bedding.
Fortunately, it was July, and despite Backlund's persistent rain, the night temperature was still bearable.
But once September arrived, a single night spent outdoors would lead to illness, and for those in weaker health, death on the streets was a very real possibility.
Lorien pulled his felt hat lower over his face and carefully avoided the sleeping vagrants. He quickened his pace, his thoughts wandering. How many of these people would live to see the end of the year? Backlund's Great Smog will openly claim tens of thousands of lives, and that was with Klein desperately trying to prevent even worse casualties.
...
As Lorien entered the Backlund Bridge area, the streetlights grew sparse, and by the time he reached the East Borough, it felt like stepping into an abyss. Thankfully, last night had been a full moon, and tonight's clear weather allowed the crimson moonlight to provide just enough illumination for navigation.
After roaming around the area for a while, he suddenly saw someone walking into an alley.
From the brief glance he got, it was someone with shoulder-length blonde hair, wearing traditional knight training attire. They were barely over 1.5 meters tall.
Lorien recognized her and followed—Xio Derecha.
---
Xio Derecha stepped into the narrow alley behind the usurer's residence.
She reached the back door, knocked once, then twice, and finally a third time.
On the third knock, the door swung open. A balding, greasy man in suspenders and a half-buttoned shirt appeared, leaning lazily against the doorframe. He reeked of stale cologne.
"If it isn't the little knight from East Borough," he said with a crooked grin, his dirty teeth catching the dim light. "Come to beg on behalf of some rat?"
Xio looked at him without any change in expression, her face partially obscured by the shadows. "Mr. Forn has nothing left, not even a place to sleep. You've already taken everything."
The usurer laughed and spat near her boot. "Ahh... him. Then tell him to send me his wife. That'll make up the difference. The girl too, if he has one."
Because of those words, something inside her gave way.
As someone who had watched her father die from false accusations, then fled with her mother and brother from East Tucker to East Chester, she had grown fiercely protective of her family. Saying something like that in front of her was enough to make her snap.
In the next second, to the man, she looked like an angry demon straight from hell. He nearly pissed his pants just from the look in her eyes.
As a Beyonder of the Arbiter pathway, she possessed the ability known as Enhanced Charisma, an ability that allowed her to pressure or convince others through sheer presence. And when an Arbiter acted in line with their own moral code, that charisma multiplied several times over.
Lorien, watching from a distance, recognized the moment, it was the incident that sent Xio to prison.
"What are the chances I would find her here," Lorien muttered as a glint formed on his eyes.
While he was thinking…
Xio didn't respond verbally. Instead, her fist shot forward and struck the man's throat, causing him to stagger backward, gasping for air. As he instinctively raised his hands to defend himself, she stepped forward, but...
"Whistle. That's hardcore, little lady, but You shouldn't hurt him so much..." A voice came from the entrance of the Alley.
She stopped and looked back.
A man wearing a handkerchief as a mask, with two shirt buttons open, stood there with his hands raised in a gesture of surrender.
"Who are you? Are you his bodyguard?" Xio asked sternly, preparing for a fight.
"My name's Rykard. Nice to meet'cha. And no, I'm not his bodyguard. He can't afford me..." Lorien said, shooting the man a look of disdain.
"You must be Xio Derecha, the famous intermediator," Lorien said as he observed her.
"If you severely hurt him, you'll be sent to jail. The police there are a bunch of curly-haired baboons who'd use you as some kind of example. I heard they've been restless lately… something something going on between Hillston Police and Sivellaus Yard," Lorien said with a shrug.
"What do you want?" Xio asked, giving him a pointed look.
"Well, nothing. I just saw you coming here all angry and all, so I thought I'd follow. Just don't make him bedridden and you'll be fine," Lorien said as he shook his head helplessly.
She narrowed her eyes, took a deep breath, and looked back at the bastard who was crawling away from her. She went closer and crouched down next to him.
"You're going to waive Mr. Fron's debt. And if I find another case related to your money lending, I'll come and break every single one of your bones. The police be damned..."
The man nodded as if his life depended on it.
She then stood up, while looking down at him, and kicked him in the face.
"Scum." A couple of his teeth flew away from the force, and with a whimper, the man went unconscious.
Then she turned back and saw that Rykard had already vanished.
...
Lorien jumped over rooftops after he left Xio. This was an experiment he wanted to see through.
The Tarot club members being summoned could just be a coincidence. But what if Fors never met Audrey? Since Xio didn't go to jail, there'd be no reason for Fors to cross paths with Miss Justice. What would happen then? Would the world somehow correct itself anyway? If it did, that would be terrifying. It would mean that no matter what he did, nothing would truly change. Everything would just happen like the original.
Just as Lorien was about to enter the dock area, a shrill woman's scream cut through the night, echoing far and wide.
"Help!"
"Help me!"
Well talk about convenience... just the thing I was looking for. Thinking that, Lorien followed the sound into a narrow alley, looking at the three men and one woman across from him. He shook his head helplessly.
Among the three men, only the one who was clearly the leader - a middle-aged man in his thirties - was tall and strong, though he wore slightly tattered workers' clothes. The other two were scrawny, their faces sallow, their clothes in tatters, making it hard to even guess their ages.
The woman who had cried for help had heavy makeup on her face, obscuring her age, though she was clearly not too old. She wore a revealing, brightly colored old-style gown and leaned against a red brick wall, her arms crossed in front of her chest, accentuating her ample and pale bosom.
One of the skinnier guys let out a sharp whistle, signaling to the burly middle-aged man that they had found an easy target.
The tall middle-aged man turned around. He was lean and wiry, with sunken eyes and dark skin - features that were clearly not of Loen descent. He was likely a highlander or had highlander blood.
The central region of the Northern Continent, at the foot of the Hornacis mountain range, was a dry central highland mostly under the rule of the Feynapotter Kingdom, with the western part belonging to the Intis Republic and the eastern part controlled by the Loen Kingdom.
The native highlanders were wiry and fierce warriors. For a long time, they were one of the biggest headaches for the three nations. But as gunpowder weapons advanced and the nature of warfare changed, the highlanders finally got suppressed and surrendered completely.
Many of them left the highlands, migrating to Backlund, Trier, Feynapotter City, and various other bustling cities and ports across the Northern Continent. Some became laborers, while others were absorbed into local gangs, bringing fresh blood.
Looks like I've walked into a trap. Too bad for them, they don't realize the kind of fish they've caught. I'm itching to test my abilities.
The sunken-eyed man scrutinized Lorien from head to toe, taking in his clearly clean clothes before nodding and asking, "You're not from the East Borough?"
Lorien was taken aback, glanced at his clean clothes, then scoffed and looked at the man with amusement.
"What does that have to do with what you're about to do?"
The middle-aged man frowned, licked his chapped lips, and ignored Lorien's question.
"Hand over all your cash and valuables, and we won't touch you. You can even keep your clothes."
The skinniest of the group turned to the middle-aged man and said, "Boss, this guy's clothes alone are worth at least a few dozen pounds. If we pawn them, we'll get a good sum."
The middle-aged man shot him a glare, then pointed at Lorien and said, "You heard him. Now, hurry up and hand over the money!"
The skinny guy, silenced by his boss's glare, pulled a knife from his coat and pointed it at Lorien.
"And if I refuse?"
"You didn't hear me? are you deaf? I'll gut you right here!"
Welp, I wanted to see my fighting prowess anyway...
The moment Lorien saw the knife, he lunged forward. His right hand grabbed the attacker's knife-wielding hand and yanked it up while his body twisted. His left hand clenched into a fist and struck the man's ribs under his right armpit.
He controlled his strength to not break his ribs, but it would hurt like a bitch.
Lorien's left hand swiftly shifted from a fist to a grip, twisting the man's arm behind his back. Controlling his strength, he struck the back of the man's head with precision, rendering him unconscious.
Seeing the other two charging, he felt no fear, only a rush of exhilaration. Clenching his right fist, he cracked his neck and rushed forward, dodged the middle-aged man, shifted his momentum 90 degrees, and kicked the man's left knee from the inside lightly. It was enough for the man to lose his footing and fall face-first onto the ground, breaking his nose.
Next, Lorien followed up with a sharp kick using the top of his boot to the other man's abdomen. It directly hit the man. The intense pain made him curl up like a dying shrimp on the ground.
Shaking his head, Lorien muttered to himself. I have really good control of my momentum and how hard I can hit to not kill them.
The heavily made-up woman in the gaudy old gown had already run about twenty or thirty meters away. She kept glancing back, only to trip and fall with a loud thud. She scrambled to her feet and kept running.
Lorien suddenly recalled a line from a classic film: "Don't be stupid, madam. I don't harm women. You can go."
He laughed out loud, shaking his head, then turned around - only to freeze in place awkwardly.
A petite woman stood a short distance away.
Lorien couldn't help but cringe at himself. He hadn't been paying attention to whether Xio was following him or not, and he had said an embarrassing quote out loud. His face felt hot with embarrassment as he coughed lightly.
"You were following me?" Lorien asked, raising an eyebrow as he turned to face her.
"You're not the only one who has a habit of tailing strangers into alleys, it seems" she replied smoothly.
Lorien chuckled, clearly amused. "Fair enough. So... what brings you here?"
Xio hesitated for a moment before coughing lightly. "...Thank you for stopping me earlier," she said, her voice slightly strained. "I lost my temper for a moment."
Lorien returned her gaze with a calm smile. "You're welcome. It happens."
As her eyes scanned the unconscious men sprawled across the ground, her expression darkened. "They're Meursault's men, aren't they? Are you planning to go after the Zemager Gang?"
Lorien's sharp memory immediately brought the name to the forefront of his mind. Meursault, a Sequence 9 Beyonder from the Hunter pathway, was an underling of the Ambassador and a key figure in the Five-Pound Ambassador assassination. Although formidable, he would eventually be taken down by Klein during an attempted ambush.
"No, I'm not," Lorien said as he shook his head. "I just happened to walk into their little trap. Pure coincidence, nothing more."
"I see," Xio muttered, "Well then... goodbye," she said finally.
"May we meet again," Lorien responded, tipping the brim of his hat as he turned away.
He walked forward at a measured pace. When he realized she wasn't following him, he let out a quiet sigh and continued on.
....
Knock, knock, knock.
A series of knocks roused Klein from his sleep.
He glanced at the morning light filtering through the window, still groggy, and turned over.
"Who is it?"
What time is it? Why didn't Melissa wake me up?
"It's me, Dunn Smith." A steady male voice answered from outside.
Dunn Smith? I don't know him. Klein shook his head, got out of bed, and walked toward the door.
He opened it and found himself facing the same gray-eyed policeman from yesterday.
"Did something happen?" Klein asked cautiously.
The officer's expression was serious.
"We found a carriage driver who confirmed that on the 27th, you visited Mr. Welch's residence. And it was Mr. Welch who paid for your fare."
...
112 Silver Mirror Street. The backdoor of the Iron Anchor Bar.
Dressed as Jeffrey, Lorien scanned his surroundings. Seeing no one, he vaulted over the wall and into the bar.
"What the hell are you doing here at this hour?"
Kane's shirt was only half-buttoned - and buttoned incorrectly. A black revolver lay to the side. His bald head glistened with sweat. Sitting on his bed, Kane List unfastened his buttons and redid them properly.
"I've got business."
Lorien, dressed in a worker's uniform, sat down carelessly. He was here to report intel about the ironclad warship "Pritz." It was being commissioned today, and there would be a full report by evening.
"What business?"
Kane wiped the sweat from his head with his sleeve, then used the bottom of his shirt to wipe his hand before picking up his revolver. He flicked open the cylinder, letting two brass bullets fall onto the bed. He had only managed to load two in his rush.
"The Pritz's demonstration happened today. Did you know?"
Kane stuffed the now-empty revolver under his pillow and looked at Lorien.
"Yeah, that ironclad warship. But all I know is its name. Though I heard some nobles at the event learned more details."
"I got the specifics. The Prime Minister Aguesid spoke on-site, so the info should be accurate."
Kane stroked his thick beard and eyed Lorien.
"What exactly did you learn?"
"This ship was named Pritz by the king. It has a total length of 101 meters, a width of 21 meters, a high freeboard design, a main armor belt 457 millimeters thick, a displacement of 10,060 tons, four 305-millimeter main guns fore and aft, six rapid-fire guns, twelve 6-pounder cannons, eighteen six-barrel machine guns, four torpedo tubes, and a top speed of 16 knots."
Kane frowned as he listens to Lorien's Intel and continued asking, "Is there anything else?"
Lorien spread his hands, his tone slightly agitated. "What do you take me for? A high-ranking noble? The Prime Minister's secretary? I went through a lot of trouble to get this information."
Digging the full information out from some obscure corner of his mind had taken some effort. Besides, once Prime Minister Aguesid officially announced the details and held the commissioning ceremony, anyone present could have leaked the information. Lorien didn't even need to pretend he had a source.
"Can this ironclad really defeat those Pirate Admirals?"
Kane didn't mention Pirate Kings. In his view, if the ironclad could take down one of the seven Pirate Admirals, it would already be impressive enough.
After all, ironclads were operated by ordinary soldiers. Beyonders wouldn't throw away their own abilities just to use cannons. As Emperor Roselle once said, that would be putting the cart before the horse.
And in naval battles, no matter how powerful the cannons were, they still had to hit their targets. With Beyonders interfering, the accuracy of artillery fire would be laughable.
Kane wasn't a Beyonder, but he had been through similar battles. Under the abilities of Bird Mustang, cannonballs would always miss, striking nothing but the sea and kicking up waves.
"That's the Navy's problem."
Lorien was certain there had to be a Sequence 3 aboard the Pritz. Without one, they wouldn't even manage a minor victory against Nast later on.
After all, the Arbiter and Lawyer pathways mostly countered each other. The strength difference between different ranks could be significant.
As for the two escort ships that would be sunk, they were likely manned by at most a Sequence 4, or maybe even lower. Considering the aftermath of a battle between two Sequence 3s, their survival was practically impossible.
In this world, Beyonders below Sequence 4 had limited use in large-scale warfare. Aside from a few professions that could launch powerful attacks or defenses, most of them had to avoid direct combat. They were better suited to assassination squads or support roles.
But things changed once one became a demigod. Most demigods could endure gunfire and decide the outcome of small to medium-scale battles. In large wars, they could still play an important role.
"I'll pass the information about the ironclad to Sir Mustang."
Kane scratched his beard. He was just a small player in all this. It was the big shots' job to handle such matters.
"Do you have any other business?"
He already knew that "nephew Jeffrey" didn't live nearby. He is probably a resident of the West Borough or Empress Borough. It was already 2 a.m., and with the summer sun rising early, Lorien would need to head back soon.
"Dear Uncle Kane, do you really dislike your nephew that much?" Lorien grinned cheekily. But when Kane's expression shifted, he quickly turned serious. "I need a weapon..."
Kane gave Lorien a long, deep look.
"Alright."
…
Lorien returned to Grimm Garden Street without changing his outfit or disguise.
His trip to the East Borough had been fruitful, but it had wasted a lot of time. Traveling between the West and the East Borough and Dock area took nearly three hours in total. Spending that much time every night just commuting was exhausting, even for a Barbarian. He still needed sleep, after all.
After storing his worker's clothes and fake beard in the laboratory, Lorien lay on his bed and began thinking about how to maintain his cover. He had too many servants during the day, and he couldn't keep playing his role in front of so many eyes.
But the only time available for that role was during the day. Occasionally going to the East Borough at night as a "vigilante" was fine, but doing that regularly wouldn't work. He needed a proper excuse to be in the North Borough more often. It was closer to the East.
What kind of excuse could I use?
…
Lorien looked at the breakfast tray and the thick stack of newspapers in August's hands, sighing to himself. Last night, he had fallen asleep from exhaustion while thinking.
Taking a sip of Felmo coffee, the bitterness instantly cleared his mind. Rubbing his temples, he looked up at August.
"Let's hear it."
August bowed respectfully. His Balam accent was slight but noticeable. "According to the latest reports, over ten newspapers, including the Backlund Daily Tribune and Tussock Times, have published news about the shooting involving the Nozick family."
"Any that didn't cover it?"
"None of the major newspapers skipped it."
"Oh?"
Lorien rubbed his chin. Even the Backlund Bulletin had reported it. That meant someone influential in the New Party must have intervened.
In Loen, especially in Backlund, there were many newspapers. Over ten had recognizable names and decent sales, but three stood out in terms of influence: the Backlund Daily Tribune, the Backlund Bulletin, and the Tussock Times.
The first two aligned with the two major political parties in Loen - the Conservatives and the New Party. That was why the Backlund Morning Post had published the Nozick shooting story without waiting for an investigation. It belonged to the Backlund Daily Tribune.
The Backlund Bulletin didn't have many subsidiary papers but was closely tied to the Daily Observer, the fourth-largest paper. Rumors said the Post's backers even planned to acquire it.
As for the Tussock Times, it had no firm political ties. It openly supported certain politicians based on its own judgment but never followed public trends blindly.
Now that even the New Party-backed Post had reported the incident, someone from the New Party had definitely made a move. The question is, why?
"What was with the Tussock Times's report yesterday?"
That report had come out at a strange time. The investigation showed that neighbors hadn't even realized Damon had been arrested. They had only heard two gunshots before everything went quiet.
If the neighbors hadn't known about the arrest, how had the Tussock Times reporter found out? And how did they know about the daytime altercation between the two men?
"It was a coincidence. That reporter was trying to interview Martin Nozick, but couldn't find the right opportunity. So, he tried to approach Mr. Lance, but was stopped outside the Quelaag Club."
Membership at the Quelaag Club was initially easy to obtain. Over time, however, the management tightened restrictions. Now, becoming a member required recommendations from two existing members. Even bringing a guest came with a limitation; members could only bring one person along with them, which made the rules quite strict.
"After Mr. Damon clashed with Mr. Lance, the club manager persuaded him to go home. On the way, Mr Damon ran into that reporter. He was still upset and casually mentioned the incident with Mr. Lance, but soon stopped talking."
"That reporter originally wanted to write an article claiming Mr. Lance was using his father's position to stir up trouble at the club. The editor rejected it, citing a lack of evidence. Still unwilling to let go of the lead, the reporter went to Mr. Damon's residence at midnight for a follow-up. But by then, he had already been taken away by the police. The editor-in-chief of the Tussock Times used his police contacts to gather information and quickly revised the article overnight."
"By that point, the newspaper's content shouldn't have been finalized. How did it make it into print so suddenly?"
Lorien didn't understand the inner workings of newspaper printing. Still, for a major paper like the Tussock Times, the content for the next day should have been locked in, likely even with sample prints already prepared.
"Recently, Martin Nozick has been making headlines in all the major newspapers. The editor-in-chief decided to remove Mr. Lance's name to gauge the New Party's reaction and rushed out a revised version."
The Tussock Times owed its popularity to its team of skilled reporters who consistently secured first-hand news. But in recent years, since a new inheritor took over, the paper had become more restrained. This shift wasn't because of a political tilt toward the Conservative Party. It was more about withholding key information, which made the reports less sharp.
Such a change had been necessary. If the paper remained unaffiliated with either political faction or the government while maintaining its biting tone, its influence would eventually have led to suppression.
…
West Borough, Unit 9 Hope Street, Prime Minister's Residence.
Prime Minister Aguesid Negan sat behind his large desk, studying the two men seated before him. One was Earl Hall, a New Party supporter, peer in the House of Lords, and one of the Kingdom's top three bankers. The other was Duke Negan, Aguesid's own brother, a Conservative Party supporter, and the Kingdom's largest landowning noble.
The Prime Minister calmly sipped his tea. Yesterday, Earl Hall had sent word that he wished to discuss the two parties' current situation with him and Duke Negan.
Before the repeal of the Grain Act, the conflict between the parties had mostly remained behind the scenes. After the repeal, tensions had become far more visible. Without the restraint of key figures like Duke Negan and Earl Hall, the two factions would likely have been at each other's throats already.
Now that Martin Nozick had landed in trouble, even the surface appearance of peace was beginning to crack.
"We can't let this situation escalate any further."
Earl Hall, who had requested the meeting, opened the discussion.
"Nozick has been all over the headlines lately. A minor issue like this won't affect him much."
Duke Negan leaned back in his chair, still wearing his admiral's navy-blue uniform. His posture was relaxed, and he yawned occasionally.
The day before, Earl Wolf had approached him and laid out the Nozick situation. Earl Wolf believed it was the perfect opportunity to pressure the New Party and reclaim some ground for the Conservatives. Duke Negan declined. His decision wasn't due to generosity. It came from the understanding that keeping the conflict out of public view was essential.
That didn't stop him from feeling satisfied with the state of affairs. He had spent the previous evening with his mistress and would have continued until morning if not for this meeting.
Although he had turned down Earl Wolf's suggestion, Duke Negan had no intention of revealing to Earl Hall that he was allowing the matter to pass quietly. As the largest landowner in the Kingdom, he had already suffered losses exceeding four hundred thousand pounds this year.
Those losses couldn't be recovered. The Grain Act would not return. But when it came to political leverage, he wanted the Conservative Party to take a substantial portion from the New Party. That was the only way to appease both his party and the nobles who supported it.
"We've just come off a defeat in our war against Feysac. If the two parties resume infighting, do you not fear further setbacks to our interests in East Balam?"
"Our new ironclad warship was just commissioned yesterday. It should be perfect for testing against Feysac's fleet."
As a former admiral, Duke Negan was confident in the Royal Navy's strength. They held the advantage at sea. The real issue was that even the strongest fleet couldn't advance on land. Feysac's army was considered the most powerful in the North Continent. Even Intis, with its six-barrel machine guns, couldn't match them.
Earl Hall's expression didn't change. His voice remained calm but firm.
"That warship was built for dealing with pirates."
"Practice is still necessary, wouldn't you agree?" Duke Negan waived his hand dismissively, showing no sense of urgency.
"Gentlemen, we don't have much time. These papers have already been circulating for nearly two days. Earl Hall, it's time to lay your cards on the table. If not, the situation will only continue to deteriorate."
As head of the Conservative Party, Aguesid naturally leaned toward his own side.
Earl Hall's frown deepened. Dragging the meeting out any further would do him no good. He made his stance clear.
"Nozick must remain untouched. That is the New Party's bottom line."
If Nozick had been just another member, Earl Hall might have considered abandoning him. But as a party leader, especially after the Grain Act's repeal, Nozick had been positioned to take command. His survival was non-negotiable, though his political future was already over.
"Lance Nozick can be dealt with under the Kingdom's law."
Duke Negan gave a cold smile as he replied.
"As he should be. Roselle once said that even a prince must answer to the law. So what is a congressman's son by comparison?"
"Hillsdon Police Department will be placed under the authority of Sivellaus Yard."
This was a major concession by the New Party. It would reverse nearly twenty years of quiet infiltration into Backlund's policing system. Hillsdon Borough, a known New Party stronghold, would now fall under the control of the Conservatives.
"That alone won't be enough."
Duke Negan stated it plainly. Even if the transfer didn't go through, the Home Secretary would purge the department after this. Recovery wouldn't happen anytime soon.
---
Aguesid remained seated behind his large desk, with only his elder brother, Duke Negan, now in front of him, lounging lazily in a chair.
The recent negotiations, along with last night's indulgence, had left the Sequence 6 Judge Duke Negan completely drained. Being around his younger brother only made him more at ease in his behavior.
"Earl Hall's proposal was already sincere enough. Even if we delay things, nothing major will change."
Aguesid was in his fifties, tall and thin, with thinning hair and sharp eyes. Still, during the negotiations, he had barely shared his views. Although he was the Prime Minister and the leader of the Conservative Party, these were not the kinds of talks he had the authority to interfere in.
In modern-day Loen, the royal family and the nobility still directed politics. Their centuries, even millennia, of wealth and influence allowed them to dominate many sectors and rise to power within them.
Take Earl Hall as an example. Before him, the Hall family had simply been a long-standing noble house with some minor banking shares. Although nobles like them were not common in Loen, there were at least a dozen families of similar standing, such as Earl Wolf's.
However, under Earl Hall's leadership, the family sold off most of its land over ten years ago, keeping only what was required for their title. At the time, land prices had not yet soared, and many traditional landowning nobles mocked them for abandoning aristocratic tradition.
But in truth, they were only jealous. Since then, Earl Hall had become the largest shareholder of Barvarit & Co., the fourth-largest shareholder of Backlund Bank, a special advisor to the Loen Royal Bank, the third-largest shareholder of Caisse des Comptes Courants in Intis, and the second-largest shareholder of the Constant Coal & Steel Consortium.
The repeal of the Grain Act had hit many conservative nobles hard, including Duke Negan and Earl Wolf. Although Negan could bear the losses thanks to his enormous holdings, nobles like Earl Wolf were already struggling and had begun selling their land.
Duke Negan finally gathered enough strength to stand and slowly paced around the office, yawning loudly more than once.
"Of course, I know that even if we delay this further, we won't be able to go after Nozick. Still, we have to try. Earl Wolf came to see me yesterday. He hopes to use the shooting incident as a way to pressure the New Party into bringing back the Grain Act."
Aguesid also stood from his desk, his tone firm. "That's impossible. His Majesty won't allow it, and Parliament won't agree either."
"Ahh…"
Duke Negan rubbed his eyes, which were now watery from his yawns.
"Yesterday it was just Earl Wolf, but that's only because the other nobles haven't heard the full details yet. Let's wait a few days and see how strong the backlash is. I didn't expect the repeal to cause such major losses."
Because the Conservative Party held power, Duke Negan had supported the repeal of the act. Without his support, the bill would never have passed. However, he had not expected the fallout to be this serious. The promises made by George III and the New Party were no longer enough to cover the damage.
Aguesid let out a quiet sigh. The bill had passed under his leadership, and if not for Pallas being the strongest supporter of the Conservative Party, he would have already lost the confidence of Parliament. That would have forced him to step down along with his cabinet. Dissolving the House of Commons was not an option either, since the king would not permit it, and the Conservative Party would oppose it. Only the New Party would be pleased by such an outcome.
As his brother yawned a few more times, Aguesid, who knew him well, couldn't help but advise him.
"Pallas, perhaps you should take a break—"
But Duke Negan interrupted him. "There's no need. This is just personal behavior. I won't end up like Nozick."
Duke Negan, being the most influential landowning noble aside from the king, had many mistresses. In the more traditional Loen Kingdom, this was something political opponents could use against him. Still, it was only seen as a minor moral flaw. After all, which noble didn't have one? It wasn't enough to cause real trouble.
Not wanting to continue with this subject, Duke Negan quickly changed topics.
"Do you know why this case is getting so much attention?"
"Why?" Aguesid frowned. He had not been keeping up with the details because too many matters were already on his plate.
"There's a young barrister backing Wit Damon."
Aguesid guessed, "Lorien Ashford?"
Duke Negan's surprised expression confirmed it. "How did you know?"
"A year and a half ago, he did the same thing. He used the newspapers to influence public opinion and easily swayed the jury. Why is he involved in this case? I remember he used to avoid anything connected to either party."
Aguesid had always kept Lorien Ashford in mind and had even worried he might side with the New Party, since they had more lawyers in their ranks. However, Ashford had never shown much political interest. He had only focused on managing his law firm.
Duke Negan didn't respond. He only called for his secretary, Lockhart Siakam.
"Lockhart."
Lockhart, a slender man in his thirties with golden hair, gold-rimmed glasses, and white gloves, stepped into the office and stood near the door with his head slightly bowed.
"Tell me about this Lorien Ashford."
Lockhart replied in a steady, deep voice, "Lorien Ashford is twenty-three years old. He graduated from Tingen Law College. Two years ago, he inherited his family's law firm and became the youngest barrister in Backlund. He has never lost a case. Until two months ago, he showed no political leanings, but since then, he hired a butler with Conservative ties and began associating with members of the Conservative Party."
Duke Negan straightened his deep blue admiral's uniform and said, "It looks like Mr. Ashford wants to use this case as his way into the Conservative Party."
Lockhart nodded slightly, still looking down. "That seems to be the case."
Aguesid frowned. "Is he a Beyonder?"
He had always thought the young man was gifted, but never paid close attention because they had no direct contact. Now that things had changed, he needed to understand more.
"Neither the Nighthawk team from the Church of Evernight nor my own people found any signs of Beyonder abilities in him."
"So he's simply talented."
Aguesid gave a slow nod.
"If he handles this case well, then once he officially joins the Conservative Party, I wouldn't mind giving him a Lawyer potion."
—
At his home, Lorien had no idea that two high-ranking figures at the Prime Minister's residence were discussing him. He was currently talking with August, about the next steps in his plan.
So far, everything Lorien had arranged had gone smoothly, except for the fact that he still didn't know what the purpose was behind that New Party big shot at The Backlund Bulletin reporting on the shooting incident.
However, no matter what, the New Party could never accept abandoning their de facto leader Nozick. As for the potential retaliation and exclusion from the New Party, Lorien wasn't concerned. Apart from his involvement in the legal profession, the New Party had little connection to his life.
Even within the legal field, Lorien still had the powerful weapon of the law firm partnership system, which he had yet to unveil. He believed that for ordinary people and even low level Beyonders, nothing was more tempting than gold pounds.
Moreover, the judges of major courts of the legal profession despite their background as lawyers, were ultimately controlled by the nobility. After all, the House of Lords was the highest court in the Loen Kingdom, and any judge aspiring to rise further had to establish good relationships with the aristocracy.
"All the major newspapers have reported on the shooting, and Mr. Damon has already been taken to Sivellaus Yard. August, do you have any suggestions?"
Lorien was still somewhat skeptical of August. Perhaps it was an influence brought by the Black Emperor pathway, that made him naturally distrustful of everything.
"It is not the right time for you to take the initiative and approach the Conservatives. You should wait for them to come to you."
August was well aware of Lorien's ultimate goal, but now was not the right time to act. Nobles had an instinctive aversion to people like him.
"Hmm, I understand."
Lorien felt helpless. Even though he was a renowned barrister and the owner of the Ashford Law Firm, there was still a significant gap between him and those who truly held power. If not for his connection with Conservative Party Judge Dewell, Hillston Police Department would never have allowed anyone to meet Damon, let alone transfer him to Sivellaus Yard.
"Right now, all you can do is wait. Wait until Mr. Jurgen completes his investigation before deciding on the next step."
August was actually quite puzzled. As a well-established barrister, Mr. Ashford, should have understood these things well. Yet, he was acting recklessly this time.
What August didn't know was that this was the first time Lorien had actively orchestrated a plan. In the past, he had simply followed the established order, so now he was naturally feeling anxious and uncertain.
Lorien shook his head. If this were an ordinary case, handling it this way would be fine. But since the other party had power and influence, taking a passive approach would only put him at a disadvantage.
"For the next few days, I'll stay at the Quelaag Club to gather information." And he could also take the opportunity to act in the East Borough.
"August, I'll leave the Disabled Soldiers Aid Association to you."
Lorien actually wanted to go to the association himself. The association was located in the outskirts of East Borough, Close to the North Borough, striking a balance between its two primary functions: relief efforts, largely conducted by women, with the Church of Evernight's backing, and providing housing for disabled soldiers who had suffered due to war and were living in subpar conditions.
Lorien wanted August to coordinate with the association and the disabled soldiers to organize a small-scale protest march, using it to add momentum to Damon's case.
As for whether this would provoke backlash, Lorien wasn't worried. After every war, if victorious, things were better, but if defeated, protests like these were common. The marches were held to demand compensation, which was already a military obligation. Thus, most of these demonstrations had the tacit approval of the military.
The recent defeat against Feysac in East Balam had resulted in heavy casualties. Since it hadn't been long, the disabled soldiers were still waiting for their compensations. Only when it became clear that these payments wouldn't come or were being significantly reduced would protests erupt.
These soldiers had already been physically and mentally scarred by war. The Wit Damon Shooting case would inevitably ignite their grievances, making them think about their own bleak future, discrimination, inability to live normally, oppression by the privileged...
Once the protests began, the people of Backlund would surely focus on the Damon's case. With so many eyes watching, Nozick would find it difficult to maneuver behind the scenes.
At that point, even if Damon had really shot Lance Nozick, he would most likely receive a light sentence or even be acquitted. A lenient ruling would even put the judge at risk of being pelted with stones. And judging from the current situation, Damon was most likely framed.
"Understood."
Since his employer had already made his decision, August saw no need to dissuade him. While it was risky, the potential rewards were significant.
"Who is behind The Backlund Bulletin? Can we find out?"
Lorien was still fixated on the newspaper's report.
Butler August shook his head, thought for a moment, and said, "It is undoubtedly someone from the New Party or a supporter, but the specific individual is unclear. However, based on some intelligence and speculation, Earl Hall is a likely suspect."
Earl Hall? Damn, Miss Justice's family really is loaded!
…
"Spirit Medium."
"Miss Daly?" Klein instinctively responded.
After the initial surprise, he found this revelation unsurprising. Only a Sequence 7 powerhouse could perform spirit mediumship like Miss Daly.
Rozanne's eyes widened again as she asked in disbelief, "You—you knew that too?"
"I've met Miss Daly before." Klein didn't hide the truth.
"Alright then." Rozanne spoke in a longing tone. "If I could become a Spirit Medium like Miss Daly right away, then I'd be willing to become a Beyonder. No, I'd seriously consider it for ten minutes."
"Hmm, Miss Daly fits all my expectations of a Beyonder." Klein exaggerated slightly in agreement.
"By the way, Rozanne, besides the seven major churches, are there any other official Beyonders? I mean the royal family or nobility?"
Klein thought of Mr. Emperor from the tarot club. Miss Justice was undoubtedly a high noble, but Mr. Emperor was likely a royal, maybe even a prince!
Moreover, Klein was certain that Mr. Emperor was a Beyonder, and he knew a lot about them. When Mr. Hanged Man mentioned basic knowledge about Beyonders, Mr. Emperor showed complete indifference.
"Of course there are. I've heard the captain and Old Neil mention it before. The royal family has many powerful Beyonders. As for whether the nobles do, I don't know."
Rozanne shook her head. She was just a clerical officer, and it was already fortunate that she could occasionally get some information from the captain or Old Neil.
Klein continued asking, "Then do you know what Beyonder pathway the royal family follows?"
Rozanne's thoughts jumped around as she frowned and asked, "Klein, you're not thinking about becoming an official Beyonder of the royal family, are you? You should know that we are under the protection of the Evernight Goddess. Hmm, of course, I'm not saying that royal official Beyonders are bad, just that relatively speaking, we are a little better."
Rozanne, what are you even thinking? Just a moment ago, you were persuading me not to become a Beyonder for the Church and to live an honest life as a clerical officer, even painting me a beautiful future. And now you're trying to recruit me for the Church? I really wasn't thinking that far!
Klein gave a helpless smile and scratched his head. "I just want to understand these basic knowledge, that's all."
Rozanne's tone softened, and she shook her head. "Basic knowledge? This isn't basic knowledge. Even Old Neil might not know. Maybe only the captain does."
Hmm, Old Neil is a Mystery Pryer, he knows quite a few mysticism rituals but is only a Sequence 9. But Captain is a Sequence 7 Nightmare and also the leader of the Nighthawks squad, he must have interacted with royal official Beyonders quite a bit.
Although Klein still didn't know the royal family's Beyonder Sequence. He chatted idly with Rozanne for a few more minutes, and seeing that there was no additional information, he took off his hat, saluted, and left.
...
Backlund, Hillston Borough, Unit 126 New Year Street, Quelaag Club.
Since becoming a Barbarian, Lorien had never gone a day without alcohol except for breakfast. But he never drank excessively.
In front of him was a glass of Black Rand, a strong distilled wine made from malt and fermented grains. Like Lanti, it was a specialty of Loen. Of course, the one in front of him was of higher quality. Not only did it retain its strong alcohol content, but it also had a much smoother taste.
Lorien came here purely to drown his sorrows. He was at Quelaag Club to inquire about the details of the conflict between Damon and Lance on the day of the shooting.
However, it seemed as though the club was under a gag order. Everyone pretended to know nothing about what had happened that day. Even Atwood, who had earned dozens of pounds off him, remained tight-lipped, making Lorien consider dragging Atwood into a back alley at night for a good beating.
"Lorien, what are you doing here?"
A slightly surprised and uncertain male voice reached Lorien's ears. Following the voice, he saw two men standing at the entrance of the indoor bar.
The man speaking had short, curly brown hair. Beside him stood a tall, thin man wearing gold-rimmed glasses.
"Talim?"
"It really is you. Why aren't you busy with your big case?"
Talim, with his curly brown hair, walked up to Lorien and snapped his fingers at the bartender.
"A Southville beer." Then he pointed at the tall, thin man with gold-rimmed glasses behind him. "Give him a Gurney Sap."
The tall, thin man was Aaron Ceres, a well-known surgeon. Surgery at this time, even with Emperor Roselle's advancements, still lacked many essentials—like anesthesia.
People were terrified of surgery. Sterile procedures were impossible. Patients could die from sheer pain or excessive bleeding, with one in four dying from such causes.
Of course, as a renowned surgeon in Backlund, Aaron had a better success rate. He once told Lorien that under his scalpel, only one in ten would die from pain or excessive bleeding.
He also made many sacrifices, such as never drinking alcohol or any beverage containing alcohol. The only drink he had was Gurney Sap. It contained no alcohol, It is made by mixing lemon, sugar and milk.
"I've been working hard for over two years. I deserve a break."
"Of course! Even Aaron occasionally comes to the club to relax and relieve the stress from all those bloody surgeries. You should've come here more often, or joined me for horseback riding in the Backlund countryside. We could even have a little competition."
Talim Dumont was a noble equestrian instructor. He had noble lineage, with a viscount in his ancestry. Unfortunately, his grandfather squandered the family fortune.
Unlike other noble children, Talim didn't receive a large sum of money for business when he came of age. Due to his grandfather's reputation, he also lacked connections to secure a government job or work as a steward for another noble family. He had to rely on his skills, becoming an equestrian instructor for various noble families.
Lorien had previously trained under Talim. Though Talim and Aaron were about ten years older than him, they were among the few real friends he had at the club.
Lorien took a sip of Black Rand, feeling the burning sensation in his mouth, and shook his head. "Race against you? I'm not Aaron. I never participate in meaningless things."
Talim, as an equestrian coach for nobles, had extraordinary riding skills. Even though Lorien was now a Sequence 8 Beyonder, he wouldn't claim he could surpass Talim in horsemanship just by enhancing his body through his Sequence.
Aaron, however, loved racing against Talim, losing miserably every time. But no matter how often he lost, he always remained confident and talkative for the next race, a contrast to his normally reserved demeanor. Talim had heard from Aaron's colleagues that he acted the same way in surgery.
The usually cold and reserved Doctor Aaron countered, "Riding is for relaxation, not competition."
Lorien circled around them and returned to the bar, feigning exaggerated surprise. "You two already went riding today? Just got back?"
Talim burst into laughter. Aaron only said things like that after finishing a race, usually after losing.
Aaron, who had just shown a hint of enthusiasm, quickly returned to his usual cold demeanor, as if the conversation had never been about him.
After some lighthearted banter, the three quickly grew comfortable again, as if Lorien had never lost contact with them over the past two years.
Talim took a sip of his Southville beer, glanced at Lorien, and grinned. "Lorien, I heard your law firm took on Nozick's case?"
Lorien set down his glass of Black Rand, still more than half full, and replied with a smile, "Seems like it. Why? Are you looking to work at my firm? Starting to care about these small cases now? Hmm, your horsemanship isn't bad. Want to be my firm's carriage driver?"
"You better shut the hell up!"
Talim cursed with a laugh, then turned to Aaron, who was sipping on his Gurney Sap, and said.
"Our dear Mr. Ashford has become such a big shot in the legal world that he calls this kind of case a 'small case.' I bet he doesn't even care about us old friends anymore."
Aaron didn't respond. He simply raised his glass and clinked it lightly against Lorien's, making Talim's expression stiffen instantly.
Lorien took a large gulp of Black Rand, watching Talim freeze in place before bursting into laughter.
Talim rolled his eyes, then leaned in and whispered, "I've heard some nobles' opinions on this case. Want to hear them?"
Lorien's expression turned serious. He furrowed his brow and said, "Talim, this is just a small case. You don't need to get involved."
Talim thought Lorien was joking and gestured toward Aaron, only to see the doctor pointing at Lorien's stern expression. Hesitant, he asked, "You don't seriously believe this is just a small case, do you? Behind this is—"
"Talim!"
Lorien cut him off, maintaining his seriousness. "I'm just a lawyer. I only care about the case itself. Whatever's behind it isn't for me to consider. Likewise, as a noble's riding instructor, you should just focus on your equestrian lessons and not concern yourself with anything else. Nobles are far more ruthless than you think!"
Of course, Lorien knew there was much more behind this case. It was practically another battleground for the ongoing clash between the two political parties, a clash he himself had triggered. But for the sake of his friend, he had to give a warning.
As a noble descendant, Talim not only had excellent manners but also cared deeply for his friends. That was why both Lorien and the usually aloof Aaron were willing to befriend him.
But Talim had always dreamed of earning a noble title, restoring his family's honor, and making sure the Dumont name was no longer a laughingstock among the aristocracy. That was no easy task. In the past few decades, new noble titles had been granted almost exclusively to wealthy patrons of the two political parties, except for rare cases like Viscount Barton, who earned his title through military merit.
To achieve his goal, Talim had two options: enlist in the military or donate a fortune. But he had no chance at either.
Twenty years ago, he might have been able to use his exceptional riding skills to become a knight. But now, Loen only had the Royal Knights, who were little more than ceremonial guards.
As for donating money, Talim's annual income barely exceeded 400 pounds, not even enough to cover a wealthy man's single banquet.
Even knowing his chances were slim, Talim never gave up. Joining the Quelaag Club was part of his plan. The membership fee alone was 50 pounds, with an annual fee of 15 pounds, far beyond what he could comfortably afford at the time.
Because of that, he and Lorien had both been ostracized at the club, though for different reasons. But over the years, Talim had become its social butterfly. Meanwhile, Lorien hadn't set foot in the club for two years, there were probably only a handful of people there who even remembered him now.
Lorien's warning might have seemed excessive in conservative Loen, even among friends, but it was necessary. He remembered all too well why Talim had died in the Book, he had meddled in the Demoness Cult's and the Augustus family's plans, drawing the Primordial Demoness's deadly curse upon himself.
So before Talim got tangled up in things again, Lorien had to warn him.
Talim was momentarily stunned. He knew all too well what nobles were like, his grandfather and his "friends." He seemed to understand something and hesitated before advising, "Lorien, maybe your firm should drop this case?"
Lorien let out a bitter laugh. Somehow, he had ended up being the one warned instead. He sighed and said, "Sigh... the case is already in our hands. What done is done. If we drop it now, things will only get worse for the firm. I can't let it be destroyed on my watch!"
Talim, who bore the same burden of family expectations, understood the difficulties all too well. He sighed in agreement. "Yeah."
Lorien took the chance to warn him again. "We're just pawns on the board. One careless move, and the big players will sacrifice us without a second thought."
After chatting a while longer and finishing their drinks, the three friends played some squash before continuing their conversation. Eventually, Lorien excused himself, citing the ongoing shooting case as a reason to leave early.
Stepping out of the Quelaag Club, he pulled out his pocket watch. It was already three in the afternoon. Time to head to the East Borough and continue his Acting.
Though he hadn't asked Talim about the nobles' opinions on the shooting case, he already had a good idea, mockery and schadenfreude at Nozick's misfortune.
The nobles Talim served were mostly aligned with the Conservative Party. They were the only ones who still insisted on outdated horsemanship training for their children.
Four days had passed since the newspapers first reported that Nozick's family was involved in the case. Now, Backlund was in a bizarre state of limbo.
The press continued covering the case and its aftermath, but the political world remained eerily silent. Reporters swarmed Nozick for statements, but he always spoke as a concerned family member, never as the New Party leader.
More often than not, it was his sister, Julia Maynard, wife of Tingen's city mayor, John Maynard, who gave interviews. A woman with an iron will.
The case was at a standstill because the major players in both parties hadn't reached an agreement yet. They were still observing and waiting. Only when the situation tilted in one direction would they step in, to either settle the matter decisively or flip the board entirely.
This was the time for pawns like Lorien to make their moves. If they succeeded, it would be a pleasant surprise. If they failed, and even if they died, the powerful figures wouldn't bat an eye. At most, they might grumble about an idiot ruining their fun.
With the big players staying silent, those caught in the middle dared not act rashly. At best, they indulged in gossip and sarcastic remarks.
That meant Lorien had to make full use of his pawn status to nudge the board in a direction that favored the Conservative Party's goals. That was the only way to avoid being held accountable once the dust settled!
...