Lord of Caldera - Chapter 152

Chapter 152: Chapter 152

“Before blaming your vassals, look at yourself first. How can a noble of the North be so sluggish?”

“S-Shut up!”

Fuming at Sylas’s mockery, Philip drew his sword clumsily, clearly lacking proper training. Sylas easily parried the blade and struck him in the stomach with the hilt.

Thud.

“Guh!”

With a gasping sound, Philip collapsed to the ground. Sylas grabbed the unconscious Philip by the back of his neck and dragged him out. Although no full-scale battle had erupted, there was still chaos around. Those remaining seemed to be the lord’s loyalists.

“Enough! The battle is over! The lord is in our custody!”

“What?!”

“M-My lord!”

Some veteran soldiers and knights turned pale. With their commander captured, everything was as good as over. All at once, weapons clattered to the ground, signaling the end of the battle. Less than an hour had passed since Sylas’s command to advance. Only three knights had perished—an absurdly simple victory.

The prisoners were bound and forced to kneel in the square, totaling about thirty. Excluding the nobles, all were hired soldiers brought from outside. Those with roots in the village were released shortly after.

“That’s my uncle-in-law; could you let him go?”

“Take him away.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“That man is my husband…”

“Take him.”

Once those requests were met, only about ten remained: three from the lord’s family, two knights, and five uncommitted soldiers. They were all that remained loyal to the lord.

“How did it come to this?” Philip mumbled, dazed and still in disbelief. Despite his preparations, he could not grasp the reality before him.

Among the territory’s residents, Sylas assembled a group of young men skilled with bows to form an archer unit, placing experienced knights as their commanders. Due to Sylas’s unexpected involvement, he altered his plan and requested reinforcements from the Veldaine Viscounty.

“Just two days. Yes, if we had lasted only two days, that would have been enough.”

Philip had considered this an easy task. Though their castle was merely functional, the enemy had no siege weapons either. He had thought they could spend two days resting comfortably.

“But how could it all fall apart in less than a day?”

Unintentionally, he let out an agonized exclamation. Sylas, watching him quietly, clicked his tongue.

“Because you’re a scholar, that’s why.”

“What nonsense is that!”

“You probably devised some grand plan, didn’t you? And you thought everything would go exactly according to that plan.”

Sylas’s words struck a nerve, and Philip’s gaze wavered. It seemed his entire family shared this trait—it must be in their blood. Sylas thought about saying more but shook his head, finding it too tedious to explain.

“Throw him in the dungeon until the war is over.”

“You scum! The Imperial Court won’t stand for this!”

“Ridiculous.”

The Imperial Court wasn’t going to intervene over the replacement of a minor baron in a remote northern corner. It was just an empty curse, spoken for lack of anything else to say. As they began to lift the members of the lord’s family and the knights to take them away, Sylas issued a surprising command.

“Leave that knight alone.”

“Yes, sir.”

“…?”

The knight who was unexpectedly spared from the dungeon blinked in confusion.

“Why am I being excluded?”

“You seemed like someone I could talk to.”

This was the knight who had opened the castle gate when Sylas ordered the surrender. His face twisted with emotion at Sylas’s words.

“If you think I’m a traitor just because I opened the gate, you’re mistaken.”

“I know.”

People who valued their lives were usually servile, but this knight was anything but that. The knight hadn’t opened the gate out of fear for his life; he surrendered on the condition that his lord would be spared.

“Quite a noble act, considering your former master,” Sylas thought.

Looking at the knight, Sylas asked, “What is your name?”

“Rotten Emile.”

“I’d like to appoint you as the Chief of Security.”

“…!”

Everyone was taken aback. Only hours earlier, Rotten had been one of the baron’s loyal followers, yet now Sylas was offering him the role of Chief of Security. The shock didn’t end there; Rotten’s response was just as surprising.

“I must refuse.”

“…?!”

Was he really refusing? Refusal would mean an immediate trip to the dungeon. Sylas chuckled and asked, “Why?”

“As I said, I am no traitor.”

“You refuse to take orders from the man who ousted your lord?”

“Yes.”

Sylas nodded at the straightforward answer.

“Fine, then let’s strike a deal.”

“A deal?”

“If you handle your duties well, the former lord’s imprisonment conditions will improve, and he might even be released sooner.”

“Hmm.”

Rotten narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. After a long deliberation, he met Sylas’s gaze with determination.

“Will you swear it?”

“By the blood of the dragonslayer flowing in my veins.”

“In that case, I’ll comply.”

“Release him.”

One of the soldiers, bewildered, untied Rotten’s bindings. As he massaged his wrists, Sylas instructed him, “Rest at your quarters. I’ll call you when needed.”

“Understood.”

As Rotten walked away, Bjorn approached and spoke in a low voice.

“Are you sure about this?”

“What do you mean?”

“He was a vassal of the former lord.”

Rotten could easily escape with the baron, or he might sabotage things from within. Sylas smirked and looked at Bjorn.

“Then should we lock everyone up? And who will manage the territory after we leave?”

“Well…”

Bjorn was about to answer when his eyes widened. Now that he thought about it, there wasn’t anyone suitable.

“There’s no one available to manage it right now.”

The only ones with authority to oversee the territory were Sylas, Bjorn, Rey, and Toby, none of whom could be spared. Henrik might have been an option as an honorary knight, but as a commoner, he hadn’t received any formal training. He couldn’t even read, so he was out of the question.

It was only natural that they would have to appoint someone from among those who had surrendered.

“Anyone we can trust?”