Lord of Caldera - Chapter 171

Chapter 171: Chapter 171

Reluctantly, the nobles took their seats, along with some of the barbarian leaders, including Ragnar. As soon as he sat down, Ragnar spoke.

“The purpose of convening this Platinum Council is simple: to elect a king of the North.”

“What?!”

“This is madness!”

At the word “king,” some nobles gasped in shock.

“A king! Are you out of your mind?”

“This is outright treason against the empire!”

“Treason, you say?” Ragnar scoffed, watching the nobles’ intense opposition.

“So loyal, aren’t you? While the Emperor controls the North’s food supply, holding you all by the neck, you bow and grovel in submission.”

“You scoundrel!” a noble growled.

“Silence!” Ragnar’s roar made many nobles clutch their ears. It was as though a dragon had roared right in front of them.

“The children of the icy plains are starving! And yet, you continue to offer empty loyalty, thinking only of your own safety. If that’s the case, then perhaps…” Ragnar rose to his feet, scanning those around him.

“I shall liberate the children of the North from your grip!”

The nobles’ faces turned pale as they finally grasped his threat. If things went awry, he would unleash the unified barbarians upon the North.

As the nobles swallowed nervously, the Marquis stepped forward.

“So, the Great Chief is suggesting we elect a king who represents both imperial subjects and the people of the North and then present this to the Emperor?”

“Exactly!” Ragnar stomped his foot, and the entire hall shook.

“If the North unites, how could the Emperor toy with us as he pleases? Our axes alone would make him think twice!”

“And if he rejects this proposal?” a noble asked.

“I told you, if you abandon this cause, I will unite the North alone,” Ragnar replied. The nobles’ faces twisted in frustration, sensing his true intentions.

“Curse it. He just wants to be king himself,” one whispered.

“He’s threatening us, saying he’ll bring his army if he doesn’t get the crown,” another muttered, agreeing. As the nobles collectively leaned towards opposing him, a man among them suddenly stood and spoke.

“The Jerring family supports the Great Chief’s proposal!”

The hall froze in shock. The Jerring family, one of the seven families guarding the border against the barbarians, was siding with the Great Chief?

Amid the stunned silence, other nobles began to rise.

“The Glad family supports the Great Chief!”

“The Svenborg family supports the Great Chief!”

“The Bergen family supports the Great Chief!”

Six out of the seven border families had aligned with Ragnar, sending a wave of shock and fear throughout the hall.

“Have you all lost your minds?”

“Be quiet! What would you inland nobles know of it, living comfortably off trade?” the head of the Glad family cried out, his voice bitter.

“While we’ve been shedding blood, none of you offered any real support! The central powers only wanted to control our military while using us as a buffer. We’ve had enough!” Several other lords nodded in agreement, lending their voices to his cause.

The nobles turned to the Marquis with stunned expressions, realizing he was the only one who could stand against Ragnar now. The Marquis surveyed their gazes and sighed inwardly.

‘It’s all going as planned so far,’ he thought.

The original plan had been for the Marquis to denounce the proposal and position himself as Ragnar’s rival, thereby becoming a supreme lord of the North. But things had changed since the previous night.

Calmly, he followed the script he had prepared.

“Six of the border lords have expressed their support, but one remains silent,” he said. At his words, all eyes turned to Bjorn, who had been quietly observing with his arms crossed.

“What do you think? We know of the Northern dedication of the Seven Families, so I’d like to hear your thoughts as well,” the Marquis invited.

“I agree,” said Ragnar, nodding. With everyone’s attention on him, Bjorn finally spoke.

“This is strange.”

“Strange?” Ragnar and the others blinked.

“You claim to be electing a king, but it sounds as if there’s only one candidate.”

The nobles paused, realizing they had been so preoccupied with the council’s explosive moments that they hadn’t considered it.

“The idea of electing a king isn’t a bad one. It means uniting the entire North under a single leader.”

“Are you suggesting rebellion against the royal family?” one noble asked, shocked.

“Not necessarily,” Bjorn replied. A king is a symbol of unity, and what policies they pursue depend on their individual abilities.

“Though the monarchy was abolished long ago, a king is still technically a title under the Emperor. If we unite and formally request the restoration of the monarchy, how would that be rebellion?”

“That’s… true!” one noble exclaimed with a brightened expression, as though he had experienced a revelation.

“Yes, a formal request wouldn’t be treason!”

“We could even leverage our unified strength to press the imperial family!”

“And we might integrate the barbarians as our subjects as well,” some others mused, considering the unexpected possibilities. Realizing this, Ragnar’s face darkened.

‘Damn it. So they’re going to twist this proposal of electing a king like that?’

This approach could even allow imperial nobles to present their own candidates. If an imperial candidate became king, Ragnar would be obliged to follow them, having just advocated for unity. The thought alone was infuriating.

‘Not that it’s likely,’ he reassured himself, crossing his arms with a confident look. No one could stand against him.

“Very well. Do you have any candidates?” he challenged.

“I will be the first candidate!” boomed a voice from outside the hall. Ragnar turned and his eyes widened as he saw Sylas standing there with a grin.

“Why are you here?” Ragnar barked, glaring at the smiling Sylas.

Ragnar wasn’t the only one stunned; the other nobles stared at Sylas in confusion.

“Who is this man? I’ve never seen him before.”

“Did some territory’s heir change recently?” they murmured.

Ragnar, the first to regain his composure, shot a sharp glare at the Marquis.

“Marquis! What is the meaning of this?”

“What do you mean?” the Marquis replied, feigning innocence.

“Don’t play dumb! Why is someone from the East attending the Platinum Council?”