The Lord of Coulon Will Change

"Guildmaster. I'll report this week's guild status."

Grea came into my office and launched into her performance report.

The guild's growth was proceeding smoothly. We had been steadily expanding both the variety and the volume of our trade goods. In the beginning, we had dealt exclusively in items I'd brought over from the real world, but ordinary merchandise sourced from this continent now made up the greater share.

Net profit had fallen as a result, yet the guild itself had grown far more stable. We could hardly keep trading solely in the limited goods I could fetch, so the shift was a natural one. Of course, a handful of items—sugar, sliced white bread, and the like—still came over regularly. Those remained the Walker Guild's signature products.

When Grea finished and left, Luna came in with a brief report on the mansion's management.

As the Walker Guild expanded, so too did my estate. Recently I had raked together every last coin and bought up all the surrounding land, then begun expanding the mansion itself.

Once I took Coulon Territory, Coulon Lord's Castle would be mine—but this mansion would still make a fine villa. Or I could put it to use as the Walker Guild's offices.

"…That concludes my report. Ah, for your reference, I have grown considerably of late. I can now wield the dual blades you bestowed upon me to perfection, Master."

Her weapons were the Pharaoh's Dual Scimitars. If she could handle those with full mastery, her growth had well and truly found its stride. I, too, had grown stronger in this place—through daily orgies.

Strength, Agility, and Intelligence had all risen evenly.

More important than any of that: my Synchronization Rate had hit seventy percent. That meant my stat reduction was down to just thirty percent. Once I hit a hundred, the penalty would vanish entirely.

Been a while since I checked Luna's stats. Let's have a look.

The growth was monstrous.

Luna's Agility was knocking on four hundred. Her Strength had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠nearly reached three hundred. True to her status as Solari World's strongest character, she was growing at a terrifying pace. My own growth rate was already absurd, but Luna's was even more so.

There's already no one left in Coulon who could stand as her equal.

Sera and Arme hadn't quite matched Luna, but their growth had been tremendous in its own right. Stronger slaves made for a more secure heart. I pounced on Luna. All that growth had left her cunt deliciously taut and springy.

Rumors that I was going to marry Count Valte's daughter began to circulate. They spread through the whole of Coulon with startling speed.

The source of the rumors was, of course, House Valte. Count Valte had leaked them deliberately, no question. And since I had, in a manner of speaking, already entered into a betrothal with Lady Valte, it wasn't as though I could dismiss the whole thing as a complete fabrication.

Once talk of my marriage had filled every square in the city, Count Valte summoned me.

"Come in, come in. An amusing rumor has been making the rounds of late. You've heard it, I trust?"

"Isn't that a rumor you spread yourself, Count Valte?"

I asked it outright. He threw his head back and laughed.

"Blunt as a merchant, I see. Quite right. I did. You're going to marry my daughter anyway, so it hardly matters, does it?"

"That's true. Still, if the rumor happens to reach Count Coulomb's ears, it could become a nuisance."

Becoming Count Valte's son-in-law was, to put it with only slight exaggeration, picking a fight with House Coulomb. Relations between the two families were that cold. Count Valte knew it as well as I did. And there was only one reason he would leak a rumor like that anyway.

"I take it the time to act is drawing near?"

The hour to remove Count Coulomb was approaching. He did not give me the details of the plan. The fewer people who knew a secret scheme, the higher its odds of success. His reasoning was sound enough.

"It is. Before this week is out, the lord of Coulon will change."

Faster than I had expected—though in another sense, the timing was perfect.

Count Coulomb still seemed unable to pull himself out of the shock. He remained shut up in the lord's castle, refusing to show his face. At this point, however he died, it could be dressed up as a suicide.

"Looks like things are about to get busy."

"They are. For me, and for you as well, I expect. Which brings me to my next request: I would like you to hurry the marriage with my daughter."

The wedding had originally been set for next year. He wanted it much sooner. Strike while the iron is hot—a time-honored proverb, packed with ancestral wisdom.

"Let me confirm the plan once more. One way or another, Countess Coulomb assassinates the Count. She then becomes the lord of Coulon."

"After which she remarries me. And at the same time, you marry my daughter. Two happy occasions for the family, as it were."

"Laid out like this, it seems like a remarkably simple plan."

"Simple is best. There isn't the slightest chance this plan goes awry."

He said it as if it were already decided.

Was it, though? From where I stood, the plan was riddled with holes.

That said, I couldn't deny its odds of success were quite high. Above all else, the Countess herself was taking part in the assassination.

"Which brings me to the matter at hand. I need your help with the assassination."

"Pardon? I thought you said you wouldn't tell me the details of the plan."

"The details will be known only to myself and to her. All I need from you is to draw Count Coulomb's attention for a short while."

"His attention?"

"Yes. This Friday—would you pay a visit to House Coulomb? A man like you can invent any excuse to call, I'm sure."

"That's true enough."

"Then I'll ask you to do so."

"Understood."

I agreed at once. Asking for details would get me nowhere in any case.

This bastard. He's cooking something up, no question. If all he wanted was to assassinate Count Coulomb, there'd be no reason to call me in…

He had already turned the Count's own wife. Did he really need another pawn on top of that? I could almost see the shape of his slimy little scheme.

Fine. I'll move the way this bastard wants me to—and make my own preparations on the side.

I didn't trust Count Valte in the slightest, anyway. He was on the list of people I intended to remove.

The pitiful Count Coulomb's funeral day had arrived. I felt a twinge of sympathy for the man, but this was fate. Nothing to be done about it.

As promised to Count Valte, I paid a call on House Coulomb.

"Master Walker. Do come in."

Count Coulomb received me with a face even more gaunt than before. Anyone looking at him would have thought he was wasting away from poison.

Wait—is he actually being poisoned?

Rienna's method of assassination might well be poison: the slow kind, accumulated in Count Coulomb's body until it killed him.

She was a gifted alchemist. Proficiency with toxins wouldn't be strange at all.

"I have a prior guest, but come in anyway."

The mention of a prior guest caught me off guard. As far as I knew, Count Coulomb had not been receiving visitors of late. Other nobles and merchants who came to inquire after his health were all turned away. It took someone of my standing to be welcomed at all.

I entered the reception room I had visited before, and found Count Valte already seated on the sofa, waiting for us.

Not only Count Valte—his wife and daughter were there as well. An entire family calling on another noble house together like this was exceedingly rare.

What's more, they did not appear to have brought any guards. The household of a distinguished family like House Valte, moving without an escort? I could tell Count Valte had not come here with ordinary intentions.

"Lord Walker!!! Hello!"

The young lady of House Valte—hard to tell whether she was orc or human—greeted me. It was nothing more than a hello, and yet I felt a spike of murderous intent toward her.

Same-species revulsion? No. We're not even the same species. At worst, I'm a pig. That bitch is an orc. Completely different races.

"Count Valte. What a surprise, running into you here."

I looked at him as I spoke. I still couldn't read what he was playing at.

"I came today to settle a few matters with Count Coulomb."

"Settle, as in…"

"This and that. You're well aware of the many points of friction between the lord and myself, are you not? You're practically family now. No harm in your sitting in."

Count Valte and I kept the conversation as unstrained as we could manage. Count Coulomb offered me a seat. The seat, fucking typical, was right next to the young lady.

This bastard is beyond saving. Just die already.

In my heart, I passed a death sentence on Count Coulomb.

A short while later, Countess Coulomb entered the reception room. Under ordinary circumstances, Count Coulomb's two sons would have been here as well. They were not. The Count looked at the empty places, his expression desolate, and opened his mouth.

"Very well. Count Valte. I should like to hear what this 'settling of matters' of yours actually is. If you have come to mock a house whose line of succession has been cut, then withdraw. I have no leisure to suffer your ridicule."

"I have no such intention, Count Coulomb. The noble sacrifice of your two sons will serve as an example to every aristocrat. What reason would I have to mock a house such as yours?"

Coming from a man who had not even taken part in the territorial war, even fine words sounded like mockery. Count Coulomb's brow twitched with irritation. Count Valte smirked. A war of nerves, the two of them.

"I'll be blunt, Count Coulomb. Withdraw from this territory."

The atmosphere in the reception room turned to ice. Count Coulomb wore the look of a man who could not quite believe what he had just heard. It was, to be fair, that outrageous a thing to say.

"I must have misheard you."

"I'll say it again, Count. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠It is time you rested. Ought you not spend what remains of your life atoning to your two sons?"

At those words, Count Coulomb's face twisted into something out of a nightmare. A thunderous roar burst from his throat.

"You bastard! Do you have any idea where you are, spewing that kind of garbage?! Reiss Knights! Knight Commander!"

He called for the knight commander. There was no response at all. I knew why. Rienna had laid a spell over this reception room—or perhaps she had used some specialized alchemical item.

A soundproofing spell? Something along those lines, anyway.

Count Valte snickered, openly mocking him.

"Your pathetic little knight order isn't coming."