Lord of Caldera - Chapter 202

Chapter 202: Chapter 202

“What are you waiting for? Summon your aide,” Sylas prompted.

“Yes… of course,” Rozier replied, closing his eyes briefly to brace himself for the inevitable consequences. The erosion of his lord’s trust, which he would soon face, gnawed at him like a festering wound.

Moments later, Rozier’s aide entered, accompanied by a Northern knight loyal to Viscount Thorburn.

“Remember, hand the report over at the gates of the Imperial Palace, not a moment before,” the Viscount ordered, and the knight nodded firmly.

Rozier’s aide stood by, visibly uneasy as he sensed the gravity of the situation.

“What’s happening here?” the aide whispered urgently.

“Silence!” Rozier snapped, his tone so sharp that the aide recoiled.

As the two knights departed on horseback, Sylas turned to the assembled nobles.

“With this, His Majesty will surely recognize our loyalty. Long live the Empire!”

“Long live the Empire! Long live the North!”

“Glory to the great Empire, eternal and everlasting!”

The shouts were practiced and hollow, and Rozier felt his stomach churn as he closed his eyes.

‘The Empire’s influence in the North is finished.’

The current Emperor might look the other way, mildly uncomfortable, but the Crown Prince’s wrath would be severe. And Rozier knew that half of that fury would be directed at him. But he’d lost the gamble and had no choice but to face the consequences. All he could hope for was that he’d still have a place when he returned.

Following the Inspector’s visit, the third trial of the king’s election was temporarily suspended for a straightforward reason.

“Now that things are wrapping up, let’s proceed after securing the Emperor’s approval.”

The Northern nobles agreed unanimously. With the Emperor’s formal recognition of the king’s title almost certain, they saw no harm in ending this matter on the most dignified note possible.

Yet Ragnar seemed somewhat disgruntled.

“Why does the Emperor’s approval matter so much? If we know he’ll agree, what difference does it make whether we do it now or later?”

“Of course, it matters. You, of all people, should understand the difference between post-approval and prior approval,” Viscount Thorburn pointed out.

Post-approval felt like something tolerated after the fact, whereas prior approval implied direct endorsement. It ensured there would be no further debate about legitimacy.

“Even though we may start before the Emperor’s official approval, we can simply claim it was a preliminary step toward unification.”

“Covering one’s eyes and pretending otherwise, is it?” Ragnar grumbled. He knew the tactic well, having used it himself. Yet it didn’t sit well with him when the Emperor was the one employing it. Sensing Ragnar’s irritation, Viscount Thorburn offered further clarification.

“And this works in your favor as well, Chieftain.”

“What do you mean?”

“An Emperor-endorsed restoration of the royal title. No matter how these trials unfold, this grants immense legitimacy to whoever is crowned.”

Ragnar understood that, for Northern nobles, the concept of legitimacy carried weight. Even if they sought unity under a strong king, there would always be factions wary of such rapid consolidation.

“If you ascend the throne, no one will dare to oppose you outright,” Thorburn added.

“…”

That was certainly tempting. Ragnar wanted Northern unification, but he hadn’t expected all the lords to submit willingly after a single trial. His plan had been to captivate them and pressure them into following his lead by showing he held the upper hand.

‘But if I receive the Emperor’s endorsement, it changes everything.’

So long as he didn’t directly defy the Empire, the Northern lords would have little choice but to recognize his authority. Concluding his thoughts, Ragnar nodded.

“Fine. I’ll wait.”

“Thank you.”

As Viscount Thorburn stepped back, Ragnar turned his gaze toward the distant figures of Sylas and Bjorn in conversation. His brow furrowed.

‘So, they say he’ll be king.’

Sylas Corleone—a formidable obstacle. Yet ironically, this same obstacle was clearing the path to the throne.

‘You might think you’re opening the way for another, but the one who will walk through that door is me.’

Ragnar’s gaze shifted briefly to Bjorn. Still an enigma—a man whose true intentions and courage remained uncertain.

Yet, whether he was a true kingly contender or not, Ragnar knew one thing. He had no intention of surrendering the throne.

‘If there are two contenders worthy of the crown, I see no reason it shouldn’t be me.’

Ragnar turned away, his resolve solidified. For the first time, ambition clashed with ideals, and Ragnar chose the path of self-justification.

To give up his ambition for a greater purpose was something he wasn’t prepared to do—he was still far too young for that.

That night, Karl Leiningen entered Marquis Serge’s study.

“Father.”

“Karl? What brings you here?” Serge asked, looking up from his papers. Though Karl was technically his nephew, he had been adopted as Serge’s heir, and they regarded each other as father and son.

With a troubled expression, Karl didn’t waste time with formalities. “Father, are you truly planning to go through with this king’s election? With the Emperor’s approval, no less? We’ll be forced to bow before a king in the North.”

“There’s little choice,” Serge sighed deeply, his face etched with resignation. “We’ve come too far to stop the process. If we try to interfere now, House Leiningen will be branded as the enemy of the North.”

In truth, no one was more dissatisfied with the king’s election than House Leiningen. Like a wolf ruling in a land without lions, they had long reigned as the most powerful force in the North. Now, however, they were on the verge of having to serve under a king.

“But we can’t just surrender, can we?” Karl pressed.

“And what would you have me do? Stir up trouble as usual?”

“We don’t have to act ourselves. We just need to create the conditions for this game to collapse.”

“What are you talking about?” Serge looked puzzled, but Karl’s lips curled into a grin. Lowering his voice, Karl revealed the plan he’d been formulating. As the details unfolded, Serge’s expression grew grim.

“You must be mad. Do you honestly think this is possible?”

“It’s the only way. Fortunately, we still have some time until the Emperor’s approval arrives…”

“Silence! You’ve lost your mind! Losing your dignity in those duels has clearly affected your sense!”