From Secret Clan to the Divine Dynasty

“We have to catch them off guard, break them one by one, and gradually dissolve the Kesse family’s power.”

During the time Chris had been away, they hadn’t been idle but had collected information on the Kesse and Garcia families by various means.

They had gathered details about the entire Kesse family’s members, as well as the Garcia family’s members, including their business composition and some personal hobbies of certain family members.

They even managed to obtain the internal layout of the Kesse family manor by bribing a servant, who was now being “protected” at Fischer Manor.

Byrne committed every detail of the collected information to memory through “Profound Memory.”

He repeatedly studied the various intelligence in his memory and formulated a very detailed combat strategy after synthesizing the information.

However, there was one key issue Byrne still hadn’t thought through.

“As for our next move, should we tell the Lion clan? Is it good or bad to let Viscount Bast know about this operation?”

After listening, Archibald shouted, “If we tell Viscount Bast, wouldn’t we be giving them a handle on us?”

Theo nodded and said, “Indeed, it is a problem. If we tell them about this, we will easily be targeted by the Lion clan in the future.”

Byrne nodded, then looked toward Irene, Chris, and the others, wanting to know their thoughts.

But Irene had a different opinion. Shaking her head, she said, “I think we should still inform the Lion clan in advance, because we have already decided to rely on them, and we’re deeply bound to them.”

“Since we’re deeply bound, we must be united whether we advance or retreat.”

Indeed, that made sense. Taking a deep breath, Byrne nodded and said, “Yes, and I realized something—we don’t have to worry about the Lion clan getting a hold on us.”

“Because if the Lion clan wanted to crush us, they wouldn’t need to exert any effort. Whether or not they have a handle on us doesn’t make a substantial difference.”

Beyond that, he had come to another realization.

If the purpose of making ties with the Lion clan was to tackle the possible consequences from the Garcia family,

then if the whole affair wasn’t explained to Viscount Bast in advance, the Lion clan would be caught off guard when they wanted to help the Fischer family.

In fact, he had encountered similar situations before, where a subordinate of the Fischer family had caused considerable trouble without reporting it first, and by the time it came to Byrne’s attention, the situation had become very awkward.

Archibald and Theo had an epiphany, indeed, that was the logic.

The Fischers, mere kittens, didn’t need to worry about whether the Lion clan had something on them or not.

If the lion wanted to kill them, it just had to open its mighty jaws.

In conclusion, Byrne said, “Moreover, alerting them in advance can build trust. Let’s do that.”

——

The Four Towns area is located to the north of the East Coast Province, with the four towns being the northeastern port town of Nasir, the southeastern and most prosperous gold mine town Chevron, the northwestern poverty town Fiera near Ahornblatt Province, and lastly, Black Mountain Town in the southwest, known for horse racing.

South of Black Mountain Town lies Fein City. As the most famous town for horse race betting, it has flourished in recent years. During the horse racing season from February to October each year, many nobles and wealthy people come here to gamble on horses.

Horse racing is a competitive sport invented by the Lorne citizens and has spread to most parts of the Ouden Continent, gaining wide popularity among the upper class.

And the Cyart people, who were keen on learning from Lorne and had been driven to the eastern part of the continent, were also very fond of horse racing and betting.

It’s now February, winter is gradually passing, and spring has just arrived.

Black Mountain Town is about to hold a race for the Silver Shield Cup. Many nobles will come to town to gamble, and the entire town will become extremely lively.

Baron Kesse’s uncle, Arsh Kesse, was very keen on horse racing.

Arsh entered the noisy racecourse, received by his attendants into a luxurious private box. Holding a glass of champagne, he looked down from a commanding height at the horses racing below.

“Win! Win! Win!”

His amber snake-like pupils were filled with confidence, having received exclusive news that the newcomer horse ranked third was quite special.

It possessed a hidden magic beast lineage, its physical abilities were far superior to other racehorses, and it was sure to win this race!

Others were not privy to this key piece of information, and Arsh decided to bet big before it was revealed, to make a fortune!

“Faster, faster, even faster!”

Unexpectedly, the so-called “magic beast lineage” horse was not fast at all and soon fell to the last place.

Seeing the horse he bet on falling behind, he couldn’t help but stand up, his eyes widened, breathing heavily in utter disbelief as the race came to an end.

“How could this be! Impossible, impossible! It was supposed to win, damn it, fake news, fuck!”

Arsh went crazy, smashing things around the room in a fit of rage, trembling against the wall as sweat flowed down his cheeks.

This was bad; he’d lost too much money and couldn’t explain it to the family!

“Damn it! Why should I explain anything? I’m a Level 2 Extraordinary Exponent! What can those old fogeys say to me, kick me out of the family?”

With that thought, Arsh felt much bolder. No matter how much money he had lost, his strength was still vital to the family.

“The money we’ve lost, we can eventually draw from the Fischer family; there’s no need for panic,” he reassured himself.

“Knock, knock, knock.”

“Come in!” He furrowed his brows and looked over.

The sound of knocking came from outside the door, and the servant who entered, seeing the mess on the floor, was not at all flustered, evidently accustomed to the emotional outbursts of the racetrack patrons.

He said with a smile:

“Mr. Arsh, Lord Viscount Garcia is looking for you. He’s waiting outside for you to join him.”

“What?”

Arsh was shocked. Viscount Garcia had also come to Black Mountain Town and was seeking him out.

Not daring to keep him waiting, Arsh quickly followed the servant to the outside.

However, as they walked, the path became more and more secluded until they reached a little grove near the racing grounds where no one else was around; a sense of foreboding filled Arsh’s heart.

“Where exactly is Lord Viscount Garcia?”

Just as he was getting cautious, he suddenly saw Viscount Garcia stepping out of the nearby woods.

The man in the military uniform looked at Arsh and said gravely,

“Mr. Arsh, come over here, please.”

Viscount Garcia, with his beard and resolute appearance, authoritative and penetrating eyes, furrowed thick brows, seemed to be alert and decisive at every moment.

He was the Viscount with the terrifying nickname “Reaper,” an enthusiastic lover of war in his youth, vehemently opposed to signing a peace treaty with the Rhea People, and had secretly killed many opposing family members.

Arsh, whenever he was near the Viscount, instinctively resisted and filled with fear, would respectfully lower his head, scarcely daring to draw a breath as he asked,

“Lord Viscount, did you need something from me? I didn’t expect to see you here; I thought you had no interest in horse racing.”

He didn’t know why Viscount Garcia was here, nor did he understand what the man wanted to discuss with him.

Typically, the aloof and busy Viscount Garcia only associated with his Baron nephew and would never bother with someone of no title like himself.

Suddenly recalling Viscount Garcia’s interests, Arsh quickly said, “To completely control the Fischers, my nephew hopes to make Irene Fischer, who has the talent of a Spellcaster, his mistress.”

“I heard she has not birthed any children yet; in time, perhaps someone from within our family could ensure she bears a child.”

Such an act might defy ethical morals, but it would not consume Baron Kesse’s own limit for reproduction, undoubtedly maximizing benefits, which Baron Kesse himself cared little about.

Arsh smiled and continued, “Lord Viscount, although this is our plan, if you desire Irene Fischer’s body, we will surely give her to you.”

Viscount Garcia was silent for a long while, and his deep voice slowly emerged.

“I am here not for other matters but solely to ensure your death.”

Arsh’s face turned pale in horror as he looked up, and in the next moment, he saw a multitude of orange flames materializing around him, burning fiercely as if he were in a sea of fire!

“Why! Lord Viscount, stop!”

Arsh, a Bloodline Knight, roared, acutely feeling the severe pain in his body and instinctively activating the power of Bloodline “Blackstone Iron Dragon” to grow many hard black dragon scales, which, despite being instantly engulfed in flames, resulted in injury instead of death.

But he dared not retaliate against the mighty “Viscount Garcia” and turned to run frantically with the flames trailing behind him!

Why?

Why did Viscount Garcia want to kill him?

Wrapped in flames, Arsh ran wildly, his heart filled with shock, fear, and confusion.

However, just as he had run a few steps away, he saw the servant standing behind, smiling at him.

Something was off; the servant was not surprised and was even smiling. Definitely something was not right!

As Arsh thought this through, his expression rapidly changed.

Sure enough, in the next moment, the servant pulled out a flintlock and shot at him.

Arsh failed to notice a firefly fluttering in front of him, and the bullet, guided by its path, hit him without a miss.

The bullet didn’t penetrate his body, and he continued to run desperately, then suddenly saw his nephew, Baron Kesse, walking towards him with a tense expression.

“Uncle Arsh! Be careful! An assassin has infiltrated!”

“I know, but Viscount Garcia just now…”

Arsh began to speak nervously but had not finished his sentence when suddenly a dagger was plunged forcibly into his heart, expertly avoiding his hard dragon scales.

“You!”

Disbelieving, he looked at his nephew “Baron Kesse,” who also looked back at him coldly and without hesitation stirred the dagger.