Lord of Caldera - Chapter 196

Chapter 196: Chapter 196

Though the commoners hadn’t yet fully calmed down, excitement bubbled beneath their shock. Was this what it would be like if divine apostles fought, or if ancient heroes clashed? What if such extraordinary people were to become their king?

It’s perfect. It’s like something out of an ancient legend. Long live the king!

Even the Empire might offer more rations, afraid of a king like this.

Unified North? Does that mean we won’t have to fight the barbarians anymore?

Some were captivated by the sheer romanticism of it, while others saw practical benefits, and still others found joy in the idea of peace through unity. The concept of a “king” was finally becoming real to them. Even the nobles could feel this strange excitement spreading through the crowd.

“…Let’s proceed with the next duel. Are you ready, Chieftain?”

“No need to worry. I’m fine.”

Before things could get chaotic again, Viscount Torben quickly signaled for the duels to resume. Ragnar, having recovered from the shock of his defeat, returned to the dueling ground with a calm expression.

He nodded toward Loghain.

“Come up here.”

“Yes, Chieftain.”

Loghain did not refuse the call. His weapon of choice was a single-handed ax and a shield—a typical armament for a barbarian warrior.

“It’s been a while since I’ve had the chance to spar with you, Chieftain.”

“How long do you think you’ll last?”

“Well, I’ll hold out as best I can,” Loghain replied with a grin as he steadied his stance. The commoners’ eyes lit up with renewed anticipation. Could they expect a fight like the one they had just seen?

Unfortunately, their hopes would be unmet.

Boom! Crash!

“Ugh… guh!”

Loghain, while undoubtedly exceptional compared to the average human, was no match for warriors like Sylas or Ragnar. His reflexes were sharp, his physical prowess impressive, and he had techniques to fend off powerful attacks, but he lacked the overwhelming strength and bloodline heritage that set Ragnar apart.

Crash!

With a powerful swing, Ragnar sent Loghain flying backward, shield and all. The shield cracked and dangled from his arm as Loghain rolled a few times before stopping, groaning in pain.

“As expected of the Chieftain.”

“Improve your skills.”

“Bring me a dragon’s heart, and I’ll see what I can do,” Loghain joked, laughing. With that, the duel ended on an amiable note, though the commoners were clearly disappointed.

Are all the candidates the same?

Maybe only those two were special.

Interest faded from the eyes of the onlookers as they glanced at Loghain. He noticed but didn’t mind; he had never intended to become king anyway. As Loghain left the arena, Ragnar’s gaze turned to the remaining two candidates.

“Who’s next?”

“I’ll go.”

It was Bjorn. Ragnar’s eyes sparkled with a hint of intensity that made Bjorn flinch.

Why is he looking at me like that?

Bjorn couldn’t recall ever doing anything to earn Ragnar’s ire. He had turned down an offer to serve under him once, but that hardly seemed reason enough for such a look. Puzzled, Bjorn readied his two axes.

“Let’s begin.”

“…Bjorn Veldane, are you truly seeking the throne?”

“Why ask me that now?”

Bjorn’s brows knitted in confusion. He couldn’t fathom the intent behind the question, but Ragnar’s tone grew sharper.

“Answer me. Are you genuinely aiming to become king?”

“Yes.”

“Hah.”

Ragnar let out a dry laugh at the swift and unhesitant response.

“With your abilities?”

“Is there a problem?”

“Don’t you think that position is too grand for you?”

It was a blatant insult, but Bjorn merely laughed. This response twisted Ragnar’s expression in irritation.

“What’s so funny?”

“Chieftain, what do you want to do as king?”

“What?”

“I asked what you want to do as king.”

For a moment, Ragnar’s eyes flashed with confusion. What would he do as king? His mouth opened as if to answer, but the words seemed to evade him.

Unify the North. Gain independence from the Empire. Make the North great… and then…

He closed his eyes briefly. If he became king, the North would unify, and he’d achieve independence from the Empire. The North’s greatness would, in a way, be realized at that moment. But what then? After becoming king?

“…We’ll have to fight against outside forces.”

“The Empire?”

“Yes. They won’t leave us be.”

If he claimed the throne and the North unified, the Empire wouldn’t stand idly by. Especially not with the North’s independence—a threat the Empire would never tolerate. As king, his task would be to fight external pressures and secure the North’s permanent independence. Having resolved himself, Ragnar opened his eyes.

“I will create a country of northerners free from outside interference. That is my goal.”

“I see.”

Bjorn nodded. With such ambitions, it was likely he would ignite a fire in the hearts of many northerners. After all, they had long suffered from the Empire’s manipulation of their food supplies. But Bjorn’s gaze grew cold as he looked at Ragnar.

“That’s why I should be king, Chieftain.”

“What?”

“You would make a terrible king.”

Bjorn’s words were genuine, and Ragnar’s face twisted with anger.

“How dare you!”

Ragnar ground his teeth, glaring at Bjorn. That gaze was identical to the one he had encountered from someone else not long ago.

“The times have changed, Ragnar. The age where being a great warrior made one a great king is over,” said Sylas Corleone, a man stronger than Ragnar and enveloped in an aura of mystery. Though the words stung with humiliation, Ragnar begrudgingly accepted them, despite his refusal to fully comprehend. Sylas was strong, perhaps seeing something that Ragnar himself could not. But Bjorn? He was nothing of the sort.

“Does a wretch like you dare look at me with those eyes?” Ragnar seethed. Bjorn was weaker, younger, and far less experienced. He had neither presence nor any undeniable talent. Yet, here he was, looking down at Ragnar as if he could see something Ragnar couldn’t.

“Arrogant…” Ragnar took a massive step forward, his anger reverberating through the floor, sending tremors around them. Bjorn bent slightly, steadying himself against the shock.