Lord Summoner's Freedom Philosophy: Grimoire of Love
Chapter 230: Trouble At Arkansas (End) Lyan’s Deductions

Chapter 230: Trouble At Arkansas (End) Lyan’s Deductions

In his quiet chamber, Lyan sat surrounded by sketches, maps, and documents, each one a piece of the puzzle that was Duke Ravindor’s scheme. With the precision of a master detective, he pored over each item, determined to uncover the truth hidden within.

His attention was first drawn to the sketches, each one depicting Josephine, Belle, Alina, and Xena with remarkable detail. As he studied their likenesses, Lyan couldn’t help but ponder the significance of their inclusion in the Duke’s plans. These women were his women, admired by many for their beauty, strength, and influence.

Josephine, the respected matriarch of the House of Roses, commanded a position of influence within Arkansas society. Her sharp intellect and astute business sense made her a formidable figure, respected by allies and feared by adversaries alike. Belle, known for her unique intellect and dignified demeanor, garnered admiration and respect from all who knew her. Alina, with her gentle yet determined nature, served as a source of inspiration and hope for many. And Xena, with her fiery spirit and uncanny ability to forge connections, wielded influence across various spheres of influence.

But why would the Duke target these remarkable women? What role did they play in his larger plans for Arkansas? Lyan mulled over these questions as he examined the sketches, searching for any hints or clues that might illuminate the Duke’s motivations.

As Lyan meticulously scrutinized the sketches, his sharp eye caught a subtle detail—a faint mark etched into the corner of each portrait. It was a symbol, a sigil he knew all too well from his studies of Astellia Kingdom’s noble houses. It was the crest of House Ravindor, unmistakably belonging to the Duke himself.

A shiver ran down Lyan’s spine as the gravity of this revelation sank in. The Duke’s interest in Josephine, Belle, Alina, and Xena was no mere coincidence; it was a deliberate maneuver, carefully orchestrated to further his own ambitions in Arkansas. These women were not just targets; they were pieces in the Duke’s grand strategy, manipulated and maneuvered to serve his own ends.

But why these women? What made them so valuable to the Duke’s schemes? Lyan’s mind raced with possibilities as he delved deeper into his analysis. Maybe it was their connections, their sway within Arkansas society, that made them ripe for manipulation. Or perhaps there was more, something lurking beneath the surface, waiting to be unearthed.

As Lyan pored over the sketches, his sharp eyes caught another detail—a series of annotations, penned in a precise hand, that accompanied each portrait. They were notes, observations meticulously recorded by the Duke’s agents as they shadowed their targets, chronicling their every move, their routines, and their vulnerabilities. Each annotation hinted at a deeper understanding of these women, suggesting a calculated effort to exploit their weaknesses and leverage their strengths for the Duke’s gain.

With a grim determination etched into his features, Lyan poured over the annotations meticulously, each word an invaluable piece of the puzzle he sought to unravel. The observations detailed the Duke’s elaborate scheme, painting a vivid picture of his calculated maneuvers to ensnare Josephine, Belle, Alina, and Xena within his web of influence.

As he delved deeper into the intricacies of the Duke’s plans, Lyan’s mind raced with possibilities. Why had the Duke singled out these particular women? What qualities did they possess that made them such coveted targets in his grand design for Arkansas? It was a question that gnawed at him, driving him to scour every detail for clues.

Perhaps it was their connections, their sway over the intricate social fabric of Arkansas society, that made them prime candidates for manipulation. Or perhaps there was something more, something hidden beneath the surface, waiting to be unearthed.

With each annotation he read, Lyan’s resolve hardened. He was determined to protect Josephine, Belle, Alina, and Xena from the Duke’s machinations, to shield them from the dark forces that sought to exploit them for their own gain.

Yet, amidst the darkness, a glimmer of hope emerged—a subtle discrepancy, a flaw in the Duke’s carefully constructed facade. It wasn’t immediately apparent, requiring a keen eye and a sharp mind to discern. But to Lyan, seasoned in the art of deduction, it stood out like a beacon in the night, offering a sliver of opportunity in the face of overwhelming adversity.

The flaw lay within the annotations accompanying each sketch, meticulously crafted by the Duke’s agents. Amidst the detailed accounts of the women’s activities and vulnerabilities, there was one inconsistency—a discrepancy in the timing of certain events.

For example, Josephine’s reported visits to crucial locations clashed with known records of her whereabouts during those same periods. Belle’s supposed interactions with influential figures occurred when she was documented to be engaged in entirely different activities. Alina’s movements, meticulously tracked by the Duke’s spies, contradicted eyewitness accounts from reliable sources. And Xena’s alleged affiliations with rival factions raised doubts among those familiar with her steadfast loyalty to her comrades.

To the untrained eye, these discrepancies might appear inconsequential, just quirks in the vast web of information collected by the Duke’s network of spies. But to Lyan, they were telltale signs of manipulation, subtle clues suggesting a larger deception at play. It seems the girl has noticed they’re being followed.

"That’s relieving. Now, onto the maps and documents..." Lyan’s focus shifted to the array of materials spread before him. Each map and document was like a puzzle piece, and he set his mind to fit them together. His sharp eyes scanned the intricate network of trade routes, supply lines, and key locations within Arkansas, all meticulously marked with notes and symbols.

The maps were adorned with annotations, many bearing the same precise handwriting found on the sketches. They revealed the Duke’s intricate plans to disrupt the city’s trade, pinpointing strategic locations where his agents would strike. Certain merchants were singled out for bribery or intimidation, highlighting their vital role in the Duke’s scheme. As Lyan traced the routes with mounting unease, he grasped the depth of the Duke’s influence over Arkansas’s commerce.

In one corner of the table, a meticulously detailed map drew Lyan’s attention. It portrayed the mercenary guilds and their strongholds throughout the city, each marked with symbols denoting the Duke’s agents embedded within. Additionally, points of tension within the guilds were highlighted, ripe for exploitation to sow discord.

Examining the guilds’ territories closely, Lyan noticed a pattern emerging. The Duke’s influence wasn’t just confined to the surface; it permeated even the most secretive corners of Arkansas’s underworld. Symbols representing clandestine meetings and covert operations littered the map, indicating a shadowy network operating under the guise of the mercenary guilds.

His unease deepened as he realized the implications. The Duke wasn’t content with merely disrupting trade or sowing discord among the mercenaries. He aimed to exert control over every facet of Arkansas’s economy and security, manipulating events from the shadows to serve his own ends.

Lyan’s gaze fell upon a stack of documents, bound together by a weathered leather strap. These papers chronicled the intricate political machinations within the city’s council. Each page served as a testament to the Duke’s cunning, meticulously detailing how he had manipulated and coerced key council members into submission. What were once staunch defenders of Arkansas’s interests had been reduced to mere pawns in the Duke’s grand game.

With a sense of grim determination, Lyan delved into the contents of the documents, searching for any shred of leverage he could wield against the Duke. The names of the compromised council members stared back at him, alongside the insidious methods employed to bend them to the Duke’s will: threats of financial ruin, coercion through loved ones, and tantalizing promises of power and wealth. The Duke’s tactics preyed upon their vulnerabilities, exploiting their greed and fear to ensure their compliance.

As Lyan sifted through the pages, a growing sense of outrage and indignation welled up within him. The audacity of the Duke’s scheme was staggering, the depth of his influence unfathomable. By ensnaring the council in his web of deceit, he had effectively stripped them of their autonomy, leaving them powerless to resist his tyrannical rule.

Among the documents, a list of influential figures within the city sent a chill down Lyan’s spine. Trusted allies and respected leaders were marked with symbols of vulnerability, their weaknesses meticulously documented by the Duke’s agents. It was a sobering realization that even those closest to him could be compromised, their loyalties bought and sold to the highest bidder.

Looking at the pieces of evidence before him, Lyan- Not only Lyan, but the spirits that are silently observing the same documents that he is seeing land at the same conclusion.

’Arkansas on the verge of being swallowed by the Duke’

"That’s the only conclusion," Lyan firmly uttered.

(You’re right. This might be bad, Lyan. The duke’s strategy is too neat and perfectly written) (Hestia)

(The probability of Belle and the others in danger is very high, master) (Lilith)

(That old bastard is as cunning as always. Remember to watch out for his prepared plans for you, Lyan. He’s good at grasping people’s weakness) (Griselda)

"That’s the reason why he still has his way freely in the Astellia kingdom, huh... But well. I know that the probability of him knowing about my relationship and the girls are low. But to make them get up in such a danger, This concludes it," Lyan uttered as he neatly tidies up the desk.

A silent pressure filled up the room, that even the high spirits inside the grimoire’s space could feel and shuddered because of it.

(Master?) (Arturia)

Staring at the dark night outside the window, "I guess it’s war," Lyan uttered with a grim face.