Steel, Guns, and the Industrial Party in Another World

TL: Etude

The Duke Ferdinand, the largest royal vassal in the northwestern region of the Kingdom of Ordo, was no longer young. Soon, he would be celebrating his 45th birthday.

However, people perceived the Duke as someone whose spirit didn’t age, particularly in matters concerning women.

Just this July, the Duke took a new concubine. Counting his first wife and others, he publicly had seven women in his life, not to mention any potential secret liaisons.

The Duke’s indulgence in women wasn’t entirely for satisfying his physical desires.

As the Duke, more than half of the lords in the northwest were his vassals or vassals of his vassals. Even other direct royal vassals in the northwest had to act according to his wishes. When disputes arose among the local lords, they usually sought his judgment.

In terms of power, wealth, and status, the Ferdinand family stood at the very pinnacle of the northwestern nobility.

Logically, this should be the limit for a noble, unless one aspired to rebel like Jars.

Having been in such a position for many years, one would assume he had enjoyed all that life had to offer and had no regrets.

However, Duke Ferdinand did harbor a personal regret or concern—he had yet to father a son.

Despite having several wives and concubines, he had only fathered three daughters. The thought that his title would pass to a collateral branch of his family after his death deeply troubled him.

He pinned his hopes on his newly taken concubine, but perhaps due to his age or past indulgences, he found himself increasingly unable to perform.

Fortunately, his most loyal subordinate, Count Marltz Kent, found a solution for him.

Speaking of Marltz Kent, he was the Duke’s most effective vassal. He would follow the Duke’s orders without question, handling tasks to the Duke’s utmost satisfaction.

Such a loyal and capable person was naturally granted more power by the Duke. Gradually, Marltz became the Duke’s sword, eliminating many who were detrimental to the Ferdinand family.

As the Duke’s trust in Count Kent grew, he sometimes confided in him about personal matters, like his aforementioned concern, hoping to find a solution.

To the Duke’s delight, Marltz quickly responded that he had found a solution—he had located a doctor who could treat such conditions.

The Duke was impressed by his vassal’s efficiency.

Now, Duke Ferdinand was anxiously waiting in the grand hall of his castle for Count Kent to bring the doctor.

A servant approached and reported, “My lord, Count Marltz Kent requests an audience.”

“Quick, let him in immediately,” the Duke arranged for his immediate entry, unable to hide his eagerness.

…

Marltz Kent entered the grand hall, followed by a man wrapped in a black cloak.

The Duke, unable to conceal his excitement, exclaimed, “You’ve finally arrived.”

Count Kent slightly smiled and bowed respectfully, “Honorable Duke Ferdinand, I have brought the person. Allow me to introduce Mr. Barnett, a traveling physician.”

After making the introduction, Kent stepped aside, and the cloaked man revealed himself, greeting the Duke: “Barnett pays respects to the Duke of the Northwest.”

Duke Ferdinand scrutinized the traveling doctor. He was surprised by Barnett’s appearance, finding him quite peculiar.

However, Marltz had mentioned that the man had foreign ancestry, which might explain his appearance.contemporary romance

There’s a common belief about people of foreign descent: they often possess strange and effective remedies for various complex ailments.

With this thought, Duke Ferdinand grew hopeful that Barnett might indeed cure his ailment.

“My ‘condition’ must have been discussed with you by Marltz,” the Duke inquired, “Do you have any solutions?”

Barnett replied, “Respected Duke, I must examine your body to prescribe the appropriate treatment.”

“Very well, come and have a look,” the Duke consented.

Barnett glanced around the grand hall and awkwardly stated, “Um… Your Grace, this place seems inappropriate.”

Duke Ferdinand instantly realized the faux pas, his face flushing red. Indeed, examining that part of the body in the grand hall used for receiving guests was improper, especially with several guards present. The Duke was not yet open to exposing himself in front of so many people.

“Alright, follow me,” the Duke stood up and exited the hall, with Barnett and Marltz Kent following closely.

Arriving at his bedroom, the Duke suggested, “Let’s do it in my bedroom.”

As the Duke entered, Barnett followed suit.

The two guards at the door, noticing a stranger entering their master’s bedroom, also stepped in.

After a moment’s hesitation, the Duke instructed the guards, “You two, stay outside. I’ll call you if needed.”

Although the Duke valued his safety, anyone entering the castle underwent strict security checks. He believed there shouldn’t be any issues.

Even if Barnett harbored any malicious intent, the Duke was confident in his ability to handle an unarmed assassin. Plus, his guards would rush in immediately upon hearing his call for help.

The guards, surprised to leave their lord alone with a robust man in the bedroom, showed no expression on their faces, silently exiting and closing the door.

“So, Dr. Barnett, shall I remove my trousers?” the Duke asked, sitting awkwardly on a chair.

Barnett was taken aback by the question. His intention was to subdue the Duke away from the guards, not expecting such a direct approach.

To avoid suspicion, he replied, “Yes, Your Grace, please do.”

The Duke, visibly uncomfortable, hesitated.

“Your Grace, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Remember, you are a patient and I am a doctor. This is perfectly normal,” Barnett reassured him.

“Alright,” the Duke reluctantly began to disrobe.

As Barnett approached, he extended his hand, saying, “Forgive my impudence, Your Grace.”

But then, an unexpected event occurred.

In a flash, the Duke felt a large iron grip suddenly seize his entire neck.

It all happened so swiftly that the Duke, confident in his skills, had no time to react.

A few seconds later, he realized he was being assassinated.

“Help…” he barely managed to utter before the tightening grip silenced him.

The Duke tried to pry Barnett’s hand off, but his efforts were in vain.

His struggle only hastened the onset of asphyxiation, his face turning the color of liver.

As his consciousness faded, he slumped onto the chair. The last image he saw before closing his eyes was Barnett’s face, now contorted with ferocity.

done.co