Beneath the Thunderstorm, Each Harbors Their Own Schemes

Boom—

By mid-May, Nord Province had entered its rainy season. Dark clouds shrouded more than half the province, lightning writhed through them, and thunder crashed without end.

John Ota Luke reclined in a soft fur armchair. The fireplace blazed brightly, driving away the lingering dampness.

As the lord of Snow Maple Territory and an imperial viscount, John was already fifty-seven years old.

As a Fourth-Tier Ice Knight, his body was far younger than his age suggested, and he remained full of vigor. His hair was still a healthy brown, and though the skin on his face had loosened somewhat, his strikingly curved aquiline nose remained high and proud. Anyone who saw it would be deeply impressed.

"Lord Viscount." The Butler pushed open the door, stepped forward, and placed an invitation on the table before him. "A letter from the Griffith Family."

John kept his eyes closed. "Read it."

The Butler picked up a letter opener, skillfully cut through the sealing wax, and held the letter in both hands as he read in an expressive tone, "Honorable Viscount John Ota Luke, it is with deep sorrow that I inform you that Baron Donald Ota Griffith passed away suddenly from illness on May 2nd, 1193 of the Era of Light.

As the heir of the Griffith Family, I sincerely invite you to Eagle Fortress, Eagle Territory, Nord Province, on June 1st, to attend Baron Donald's funeral and my own succession ceremony.

A&G

R"

After hearing the letter, John opened his eyes and sneered. "Ha, I thought a baron who came from the streets might give me some 'surprise.' Who knew it would be such a rigid, boring official letter?"

"Old Gordon must have written it for him," the Butler said.

"Of course it was Old Gordon! That lowlife probably can't even recognize all the words, can he?" John threw off the blanket covering his knees and sat up. "The Griffith Family has endured for a thousand years, yet it's fallen to this state. A filthy thug is actually inheriting the family estate."

"Then..." The Butler cautiously asked, "Should I write back and say that you have urgent matters to attend to and cannot make the journey?"

John waved a hand. "Don't rush. Let me think..."

The Butler stood by with his hands folded. He had served the Luke Family for thirty years and knew his viscount's temperament well. Put nicely, John was cautious. Put bluntly, he was indecisive.

"What did Anger say?" John suddenly asked.

The Butler respectfully replied, "This invitation has only just arrived. Judging by the distance, the Worton Family should have received theirs only moments ago as well."

John slowly nodded, his thoughts settling.

The Griffith Family's decline had not begun with Donald, but it had reached its absolute depths in Donald's generation. The neighboring Luke Family had gained enormous benefits from it.

Now, the Griffith Family's Eagle Territory had been divided into three. Of those portions, the most prosperous, Shining Gold Town, was in John's hands.

Although the agreement was technically a lease, its term was fifty years. There were still forty years remaining, enough time for the Luke Family to establish real control there.

Donald had not been a particularly formidable opponent, but he had at least been a qualified noble. Even after magic had clouded his mind and he split up large portions of his territory, he had still left open the possibility of reclaiming those lands in the future.

Otherwise, when John had offered the exorbitant price of twenty thousand gold coins, Donald would not have insisted on leasing only Shining Gold Town to him while leasing the other two lands to the Worton Family.

Unfortunately, it seemed that all of Donald's painstaking effort would now go to waste.

John did not think highly of women, but he had heard of Denise's methods and shrewdness. He had always considered her the greatest obstacle to maintaining control of Shining Gold Town. Yet a perfectly good Griffith Family had somehow fallen into the hands of a street thug!

"Little Bee!" John let out a scornful chuckle.

He did not know how Raven had defeated Denise, but judging from that nickname, he had most likely used some rather disgraceful means.

Women were women. They would always be conquered by men.

Looks like I overestimated Denise. If I'd known she was that kind of woman, I, John, am not too old for the game yet!

"Lord John, will you be going in person?" the Butler asked again.

"I'll go. Write back on my behalf. I'll certainly be there that day." John smiled. "I hear that Little Bee has even trained Private Soldiers. I truly want to see what they're made of."

"And if I don't go, that little fellow might not withstand Anger's pressure and hand Shining Gold Town, that source of wealth, over to the Worton Family."

Outside the window, a massive bolt of lightning flashed, illuminating the room as brightly as day. Then a terrifying peal of thunder exploded!

That thunder also reached the Worton Family.

Unlike the quiet at John's residence, the men of the Worton Family had gathered in the meeting room.

The man seated at the far end wore dull iron armor. His neck was thick, and a full-face steel helmet rested at his side. The helmet's nose guard was especially exaggerated, tailored for its owner—Baron Anger Ota Worton.

His nose was as large as a lion's!

Though he was already sixty-five and a Third-Tier Earth Warrior, his temper was as fiery as a blazing flame. He crushed the invitation in one hand and tossed it into the fire. "Hmph, what has the world come to? Any stray cat or dog can become a noble now!"

"Father, I think..." The speaker was Anger's eldest son, Judra. He had inherited his father's most distinctive feature perfectly: a large nose. He had even added his own variation, with broad red acne scars across its tip.

But the moment he opened his mouth, Anger cut him off. "This is the meeting room. I told you that you must address me by my title here!"

"Yes, Lord Baron!" Judra shrank back. A thirty-five-year-old man was being scolded like a dog. "Lord Baron, I don't think you should underestimate Raven too much."

"I met Lady Denise several times. She is definitely not a woman who can be manipulated so easily. If Raven managed to seize the inheritance from her, he cannot be an easy opponent to deal with."

"Bullshit!" Anger slammed his palm onto the table. "That bitch Denise has muddled your brain! How dare you say something that boosts another man's prestige!"

"Father, please don't be angry." A red-haired young man seated to Anger's right spoke up. "Brother only approached Denise for the sake of the family."

The young man was named Mark. He was twenty years old and Anger's youngest son. He had not inherited his father's huge nose, instead inheriting his mother's fiery red hair.

Calling him "Father" clearly violated Anger's earlier command, but the lion-like man showed no anger at all. Instead, he restrained his temper. "Hmph, for the family's sake? I think he did it for himself!"

Judra lowered his head, suppressing the resentment on his face.

Both were descendants of the Worton Family, yet Anger's favoritism was simply outrageous!

Judra was a full fifteen years older than Mark. When he was young, he had been raised entirely as the family heir and subjected to the harshest training.

From the age of six, he had needed to study the etiquette, culture, and history required of a noble while also training in Martial Skills and tactics. Any hint of laziness would earn him a savage beating from Anger. He had never received so much as a smile or a word of praise.

Judra had once thought Anger was simply that kind of rigid father. He loved him; he just did not know how to express it.

But that belief had been shattered into pieces as Mark gradually grew up.

Since childhood, Mark had received the most affection from his father. Anger often held him in his arms, even when he was five or six years old.

There had even been several times when Mark ran onto the command platform while his father was training soldiers. If Judra had done that, he would certainly have been beaten badly.

Yet not only did Anger fail to get angry, he smiled and picked Mark up, proudly introducing him to his Private Soldiers.

Mark had even received a second-tier God-Given Potion at only fifteen years old, one specifically intended to awaken Earth Battle Qi. It cost as much as fifteen hundred gold coins. After his first attempt failed, his father had even bought him a second one!

As for Anger himself, he had only received his first God-Given Potion at the age of twenty. It had been a first-tier, non-targeted one, and he had not successfully awakened until he was twenty-five!

That was right—he had approached Denise for himself. His father's favoritism toward Mark was blatant. He had already given up hope of inheriting the Nobility Title and only wanted to marry Denise. That way, through careful maneuvering, he could become the true lord of Eagle Territory!

But wasn't I a member of this family too?

"Father, Brother is also a member of the family. He's simply too softhearted." A sly glint flashed in Mark's eyes. He knew how to make Anger happy. "In my opinion, the rainy season is about to begin, which means the Bloody Highlands are at their most chaotic."

"Why don't we have our Private Soldiers disguise themselves as Bandits and storm Eagle Fortress directly? We can wipe out the Griffith Family bloodline. Then the two leased territories will be as secure as a fortress. No matter who inherits Eagle Town, they won't dare entertain any improper thoughts!"

"Hahaha! As expected of my son! That's the kind of spirit our Worton Family should have!" Anger laughed heartily. "But while the idea is good, it focuses too much on one thing and neglects the rest. We are nobles, not bandits."

It was not that Anger particularly respected noble principles. Rather, the current climate across the kingdom did not permit him to do such a thing.

Starting a century ago, the imperial royal family had deliberately begun weakening the nobles. They greatly restricted the granting of Nobility Titles. Over the past hundred years, newly elevated nobles could be counted on one hand, while at least a hundred noble families had been stripped of their titles!

The Worton Family was merely a small Baron's Family. If they truly acted according to Mark's plan, then even if they succeeded, the king's lapdogs in the Noble Council would likely tear into them like madmen. They would not rest until the Worton Family lost its lands and title.

"Then, Father, what do you intend to do?" Mark asked.

Anger glared. "Isn't that Little Bee training soldiers? Then we'll bring our most elite troops to give him a 'congratulatory gift' and let him see exactly what kind of opponent he's facing!"

"Father, you are truly wise." Mark praised loudly. "That lowborn thug has surely never seen elite soldiers like those from our Iron Furnace Ridge. He'll be scared pissless."

"Then, with just a little intimidation, he might hand Eagle Town and that bitch Denise over to us!"

Anger shook his head. "No, child, not us. Judra will come with me this time. As for you, stay in the territory and hone your Martial Skills."

"But..." Mark was about to argue, but he lowered his head instead, an appropriately aggrieved look appearing on his face. "I understand, Father!"

He knew Anger's intentions—Judra was already older, had his own faction, and was the family's eldest son.

If Judra remained in Iron Furnace Territory and anything happened to Anger, Judra could immediately declare his inheritance of Iron Furnace Territory.

Mark needed to appear aggrieved. He did not truly want to leave the territory; he only wanted to make his father feel guilty and gain some benefits.

Sure enough, Anger said, "Mark, don't throw a tantrum. You are already an adult noble. How about this? When I return, I'll give you a Knight's Manor to govern."

Mark immediately said, "Thank you, Father!"

Boom—

Another peal of thunder rang out, and the rain outside grew even heavier.

Within the deep curtain of rain, fine horses traveled along different roads throughout Nord Province like blood racing through veins.

These knights were all mercenaries, traveling day and night to deliver invitations to every noble household that had once been connected to the Griffith Family.

The endless rolling thunder, one wave after another, was like the prelude to a grand drama, announcing to all of Nord Province—

The Griffith Family was coming back!

But that deafening roar could not drown out every sound. Within Eagle Fortress's courtyard, one sound was even louder.

"Thrust!"

"Thrust!!"

"Thrust!!!"

In the torrential rain, Raven's Private Soldiers continued drilling, every pair of eyes blazing with unyielding determination.

Under Eric's command, they stood with their legs apart and gripped their long spears in both hands, repeatedly practicing the same movement.

Thrust, thrust, and thrust again!

The spearpoints pierced the rain curtain, shattering raindrops into finer beads of water. From afar, they seemed to create a hazy mist.

No one dared lose focus, because Raven stood in the rain with them, holding a long spear just like they were!

After the five-hundredth thrust of the day, Raven drew back his spear and stood tall. "Attention!"

Swish.

The thirty-six Private Soldiers nearly straightened at the same instant. Heel struck heel, and the sound of compressed puddles nearly merged into one!

After half a month of training, the results were beginning to show.

Raven shouted, "Who are we?!"

Led by Simon, the Private Soldiers lifted their heads and puffed out their chests as they roared, "Eagle Army!"

"What is our creed?!"

"Defend our home, pledge loyalty to the Baron!"

"Who is your baron?!"

"Lord Raven!"

"Very good!" Raven shook his spear shaft and roared, "Now, someone wants to come laugh at you! Laugh at Lord Raven! What will you do?!"

After a brief silence, a bolt of thunder exploded.

Simon suddenly stepped forward.

"Kill!"

Then a tidal wave of voices erupted.

"Kill!!"

"Kill!!!"