I'm not a lord

Chapter 233 The Sting of the Twin Bees
"I'm sorry, Your Grace, our assassination attempt on Lynn has failed."

Once inside the military tent, Arno made no attempt to conceal his defeat, readily admitting it to the Duke of the Marshland.

After all, the probability of successfully assassinating a powerful and cautious lord is extremely low; failure is the norm.

According to the two mercenary leaders he sent to Three Rivers City, Lynn was one of the most cautious people they had ever met, even more cautious than the mercenary leader, Arno.

Earl of Coldwind then added, “Your Grace, that Lynn is not only cautious but also extremely suspicious. He only uses trusted old men around him and almost never enters places like churches or cities. Ordinary assassination methods are useless against him; we must use some more special methods.”

Earl of Coldwind's understanding of Lynn came from the intelligence he had gathered. Just from this intelligence, he knew that his second son, Roman, had not died unjustly.

Being targeted by such a powerful and ambitious individual with virtually no blind spots, Roman, with his pitiful cunning, would have no chance of surviving.

Duke Lothair of the Marsh patiently listened to the two recount the failed assassination attempt, then said bluntly, "Tell me, what do you want to do?"

For him, eliminating Lynn was only slightly less important than capturing Amber Harbor.

If assassination can truly dismantle the emerging forces represented by Lynn, then paying a higher price is acceptable.

Count Coldwind and Arno exchanged a glance, then he replied, "We plan to use the diplomatic negotiations as an opportunity for the assassination."

Lothair nodded slightly: "Diplomatic assassination? A very good idea, but who should be sent to their death, and who should bear the blame?"

So-called diplomatic assassination is a tactic similar to the story of Jing Ke assassinating the King of Qin.

Using pretexts such as diplomatic negotiations or presenting gifts, assassins disguised as diplomatic envoys are lured close to a cautious target, who is then killed in a single blow.

Whether successful or not, the assassin will die, and his nominal mastermind will also lose all reputation and be unable to hold his head high among the nobility.

“I’m here to find an assassin,” Arno said first.

“I will bear the blame,” Earl of Cold Wind followed closely behind.

Lothair certainly had a keen eye for talent; the two people he selected from the very beginning were perfectly suited to their professions.

The former is a mercenary leader with many desperate men under his command; finding a few willing to risk their lives for him is not difficult.

The latter had a blood feud with Lynn and wished he could devour him alive.

"It might be a bit difficult. If we send an envoy in the name of Coldwind Territory, Lynn will definitely be on guard."

The Duke of the Marshland's concerns were not unfounded.

How could Lynn not know that the Roman he killed was the second son of Earl of Coldwind?

If an enemy who killed his son suddenly sends an envoy to try to make contact, Lynn would be suspicious of the envoy's true intentions unless he was kicked in the head by a horse.

The premise that Jing Ke was able to get close to the King of Qin was that Prince Dan was an acquaintance of King Ying Zheng, and he also gained Ying Zheng's trust by using Fan Yuqi's head and a map of the Yan state.

If an assassin were to travel to White River Territory under the name of Earl Coldwind, he would not even be able to see Lynn, let alone attempt an assassination.

The problem is that Lynn's current title and strength are very high, and the envoys of smaller forces are not qualified to be received by him personally.

The envoy must be backed by a nobleman of at least the rank of count.

At this point, where could Earl of Coldwind find a reliable scapegoat of high status?

After much thought, he decided that he could only go up and try his luck himself. Perhaps Lynn would be willing to meet with the messenger he sent?

What if?
Therefore, Earl of Coldwind replied, "But there is no more suitable candidate at the moment."

The Duke of the Swamp pondered for a moment, then had an idea. He instructed the two men, "I will handle this matter. You two should find the assassin first. The delegation will depart in two days."

Seeing that the Duke was willing to help, Count Hanfeng and Arno both breathed a sigh of relief.

That very night, Arnaud had already chosen his assassins: two righteous fugitives whom he had saved, both highly skilled in combat and willing to pay with their lives.

The Duke of the Marshland took the time to arrange the mission, believing that the mission's banner would be irresistible to Lynn.

Two days later, the delegation, posing as a merchant caravan, set sail upstream, their destination Three Rivers. In the North, the Marsh Duke's family was not the only force that wanted Lynn dead.

At the same time that this delegation set off, another faction was also plotting to kill Lynn.

When the rainy season in the North is completely over, the desolate and vast wilderness also welcomes its own rainy season and summer.

The wasteland wasn't originally called the wasteland; nobody knows what this land was once called.

Two hundred years ago, nine tribes of barbarians fled into this desolate and impoverished land, and it has been known as the 'Wilderness' ever since.

To express their gratitude to the rain god and other nature deities for nourishing the land, the people of the wilderness traditionally hold grand sacrificial ceremonies during the intervals between the rainy seasons.

They would offer the gods the fattest livestock of their tribe, as well as the finest furs.

After the ceremony, they will eat and drink to their hearts' content, and sing and dance around the bonfire to reward themselves for a year of hard work.

However, the Rift Valley tribe's sacrificial ceremony this year was quite peculiar.

Logically speaking, the altar for worshipping gods should be occupied by several shamans wearing masks and dressed as gods.

However, on the altar built by the Rift Valley tribe, there was only a chair.

A beautiful woman with long blue hair was sitting in the chair.

Judging from her appearance, the woman had waist-length, azure-blue hair typical of the wilderness people, but her skin was slightly darker.

She was wearing a white animal skin coat, with her toned arms, abdomen, and thighs completely exposed.

Beside her feet stood a striking large bone bow, its body covered with irregular, horrifying bone spikes.

At this moment, her eyes were slightly narrowed, and she was swaying gently in rhythm with the drumbeats below the altar.

The drumbeats grew more urgent, and a large number of deserters surrounded the altar, kneeling on the ground and chanting incantations.

Before long, a shaman wearing a mask and a straw robe stood up and shouted, "Offer tribute to the God of War!"

The wild people around the wizard shouted in unison, "Offer tribute to the God of War! Offer tribute to the God of War!"

Amidst the rising and falling cheers, two rows of young women from the wilderness carried various kinds of food onto the altar.

Smelling the aroma of meat and wine, the woman on the chair finally opened her eyes.

Her pupils were also azure.

But those deep, beautiful eyes now revealed an unnatural, ecstatic joy.

"Wine! Quickly, bring me some wine, I want to drink!"

Before the young women from the wilderness could get close, the woman quickly stepped off the chair and snatched the ceramic wine bottle from the wooden tray.

Then she tilted her head back and drank it down in one gulp—a bottle of precious ale that could buy five deer in the Wilderness tribe.

"Bring more beer!" The woman stood on the altar, drinking heartily in front of everyone, one bottle after another, finishing five bottles of ale in no time.

At this moment, the wizard below the stage spoke up: "God of War, please destroy the enemy for our Rift Valley tribe!"

The woman, known as the Goddess of War, wiped the wine from the corner of her mouth, glanced sideways at the wizard, and asked, "Tell me, which tribe will you destroy this time?"

"This time, the enemy is not a tribe, but an individual."

"Who is it that needs my intervention?"

"His name is Lynn."

(End of this chapter)