Lord of Caldera - Chapter 163

Chapter 163: Chapter 163

The execution was swift. There was no formal procedure stating the crimes he’d committed or asking if he had any last words.

“That man is full of malice. If we gave him time to speak, he’d only spew curses.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Bjorn replied with a bitter smile, acknowledging that his uncle would only hurl abuse if given the chance to speak.

Lughres, with a gag in his mouth, was led to the execution grounds. He opened his eyes wide, as if he had some final words in mind, but the executioner’s blade cut his throat without delay.

Slash. Thud.

“Gasp!”

At the sight of Lughres’s head rolling to the ground, Philip recoiled in shock. He hadn’t expected the execution to be carried out so swiftly.

“A noble! To kill one of our own nobility!”

“Silence.”

At a stern glare from Sylas, Philip shut his mouth. The members of the Greve family trembled and knelt.

“Do you have anything to say?”

“I… I’m from the royal family…”

“We’re not interested in that.”

Perhaps due to the long peace, Philip hadn’t once imagined he might actually face death. Trembling, he began to beg for his life.

“Please spare me!”

“All right.”

“If you just spare me…! What?”

“I said, I’ll spare you.”

At Bjorn’s quick response, Philip blinked in surprise. Then, regaining his senses and controlling his frantic shaking, he cleared his throat.

“Ahem! Understood. I will pay my ransom.”

Talk about a quick change in attitude. It seemed he still hadn’t fully grasped the situation.

“Your ransom has already been paid.”

“What? When?”

“When I claimed the estate.”

“…!”

Understanding the implication, Philip’s face turned pale. Watching Philip fumble in shock, Sylas folded his arms.

What, did you really think I’d just hand it back to you? What a joke. Philip clutched Sylas’s pant leg with his trembling hands.

“P-Please, sir…”

“I’m watching.”

“No matter what, the estate… I can give you anything else…”

“Just give me land.”

The main objective now was to take possession of northern lands so that Sylas would have leverage when facing the barbarian king in the future. Other miscellaneous things didn’t matter.

Philip’s face flushed as if about to burst.

“You…!”

“Your head seems heavy. Shall I lighten it for you?”

Philip shrank back. As he calmed down, reality became clearer. Sylas wasn’t sparing him because he was a noble. He was sparing him because there was no further need for bloodshed.

“If he keeps acting up, that need might just arise.”

And if that need arose, another head would roll. Watching the now-silent Philip, Sylas said, “I’ll give you Palun.”

“….”

What was he supposed to do with that tiny village? Most of its residents, who could pay taxes, were already gone. Seeing the discontent on Philip’s face, Sylas’s voice turned cold.

“If you refuse, you can leave empty-handed and wander as a fallen noble.”

“Thank you. I will not forget this mercy.”

Philip bowed low. At his age, where else could he go? He’d be lucky not to die of pneumonia on the road.

“Well, think of it positively. At least I still have my life and a piece of land to lie down on,” he thought, reluctantly resigning himself as he retreated.

Following that, discussions began on rewards and punishments. It didn’t take long. Most of the rewards had been given immediately after the victories, and most of those who deserved punishment were already dead.

“All right, with this…”

Ding. Ding. Ding.

Ding, ding, ding.

Just before everyone could leave, the alarm bell sounded loudly, signaling an enemy invasion.

“Hey, barbarians! The barbarians are attacking!”

“What? Why would they come now?” Bjorn looked at his uncle’s corpse in disbelief. These people rarely moved without Lugres’s commission, and yet they were now appearing in their client’s territory. Amid the bewildered murmurs, Sylas’s face hardened. He had an idea of who had arrived.

“They’re faster than I expected,” he thought.

As the people around him were panicking, Sylas stood up. Instantly, the surroundings fell silent.

“What are you all doing?”

Sylas spoke calmly, and the commander’s composure instilled a sense of stability among his followers. Naturally, the chaos subsided, and everyone focused on Sylas’s words.

“Prepare for battle.”

“Yes!”

Bjorn, Henrik, Toby, and Rey responded in unison. As everyone scattered to carry out their duties, Sylas headed to the castle walls. Upon reaching the top, he could hear the sound of nervous breaths from the soldiers around him.

“Oh, heavens…”

One of the soldiers muttered blankly. The number of barbarians approaching wasn’t just a hundred or two; it was a massive force that looked capable of toppling even this fortress if they intended to. The soldiers swallowed hard, watching the barbarians advance.

“They’re almost within arrow range.”

“Should we shoot?”

The soldiers looked at Bjorn, who, in turn, looked at Sylas.

“What should we do?”

“Leave them be.”

“What?”

“They’re not here to attack.”

If they intended to attack, they would have brought far more troops. They had the resources for that. After a brief hesitation, Bjorn commanded the soldiers to stand down, and they lowered their bows. True to Sylas’s word, the barbarians didn’t attack but merely advanced steadily to the front of the fortress.

“Someone is approaching.”

As they neared the wall, a figure at the front rode closer on horseback. The sight of his muscular frame, evident even under thick furs, and his gray hair left a strong impression. The man took a deep breath and then shouted toward the wall.

“Lugres!”

“Ugh!”

Some of the soldiers clutched their ears in pain; his voice was thunderous. Even Bjorn and Henrik winced at the volume, though Sylas, Toby, and Rey’s faces turned serious.

“An ancient lineage, is it?”

It was evident just by listening. This wasn’t the volume of a normal human voice—his very physique was beyond the limits of humanity.

“I heard the war is over! Isn’t it about time for an answer? Come on out and join me for a drink—I’ve prepared a feast!” His laughter cracked like a whip against the walls, and the soldiers moaned, covering their ears. The man had indeed set up a feast, complete with a table, bottles of alcohol, and platters of meat.