Lord of Caldera - Chapter 228

Chapter 228: Chapter 228

“Have there been side effects?”

“Side effects… perhaps you could call it that.”

Arathion’s smile was wry, his expression complex.

“For ages, your kind and ours were separated, with contact strictly limited. Just as you knew little about us, we knew little about you.”

They’d received snippets of information here and there, but even that was only the most well-known events in the Empire. The West was already slow to receive information, given its monster-infested lands, and even that trickled down in incomplete fragments.

“With trade, we’ve come to know more about your kind—or rather, we’ve come to understand the scale of the Empire.”

Arathion paused, closing his eyes.

“When I first heard of it, I could hardly believe it.”

“…”

“It wasn’t your strength or magic that frightened me. It was your sheer numbers. At the current rate, humans could fill every corner of the continent in a few hundred years.”

He had always known that humans were more prolific than elves—humans had been the most numerous even in ancient times. But back then, elves also had nations and numbers far greater than now. The situation today, however, was vastly different.

While elves struggled to maintain their lineage, humans had come to dominate most of the continent.

“You once told me that elves possess superior technology, ancient magic, and vast, unexplored lands, making them a formidable force against any human invasion.”

“I remember saying that.”

“And it wasn’t untrue. But it wasn’t the whole truth, either. In my view, elves have been safe until now because of how they’re perceived.”

The ruling class, like emperors and lords, desired elven magic and technology, but ordinary people found the idea of fighting elves unsettling. To them, elves remained a mystical, untouchable race. But this perception was fragile.

Even in the West, where contact with elves was more frequent, humans already showed little hesitation in fighting them.

“One day, the scales will fall from all human eyes. They will see that elves aren’t mystical, unfathomable beings but simply another race with a high level of civilization.”

And then, humans would attack without hesitation. They would look past the elves’ pride and instead see only the potential gains.

The very thought of such a future parched Arathion’s throat.

“I fear the approach of that day—the day when elves are seen as nothing more than another prize to conquer, stripped of all the mystery that once protected us.”

Which was why he wanted to create something now. A noble bloodline with elven heritage, one that would feel pride, not disdain, in having elven blood. A noble descendant of the Empire with a vested interest in protecting the elves.

As Arathion finished his explanation, he opened his eyes and looked at Sylas.

“That is my reason.”

When Arathion’s lengthy explanation ended, Sylas found himself at a loss for words—not out of agreement, but the opposite.

‘This feels like too much… isn’t he being overly cautious?’

It was true that many humans still saw elves as mystical beings, but they certainly didn’t worship them. Insults about elven arrogance were also common enough. In Sylas’s view, the main reason humans didn’t attack elves was simply a matter of cost versus benefit. Who would risk it when the rewards weren’t clear?

‘Even if Arathion is right, that’s something that wouldn’t happen for centuries… oh.’

Lost in thought, Sylas instinctively slapped his knee as he remembered the elves’ much longer lifespans. What seemed like a distant future for him could easily be a near-term reality in Arathion’s lifetime. Given that humans’ enchantment with elves was already starting to wear off, he could understand why Arathion would fear a future where only prejudice remained.

“So, in essence, you wish to introduce elven blood into human nobility while the mystical allure around elves still exists? For the future?”

“Precisely. If your descendants hold my lineage, the elves might survive under the protection of a legitimate ruling family within the Empire.”

Good grief, Sylas barely held back a sigh. This wasn’t merely a broad perspective—it was so far-sighted that it bordered on the extreme. Worried about a potential future hundreds of years away, he was attempting to take out insurance on an outcome that might not even happen. Perhaps Arathion’s longevity had warped his view.

“I understand your intent, Your Grace. But has Eldira herself agreed to this marriage?”

Sylas thought of the elven princess Eldira. They’d maintained a friendly relationship, but marriage was an entirely different matter. She wasn’t just a casual acquaintance but a lifelong companion.

“If she were to find the marriage unbearable and it fell apart, it would be worse than not marrying at all.”

“A fair point,” Arathion conceded, nodding.

“Very well. I will send Eldira to speak with you. If she truly objects, I will not force her.”

“A wise decision, indeed.”

Sylas exhaled in relief. If Eldira were old enough to make a mature political judgment, things might be different. But she was still quite young, and if she disliked the idea, she would surely express it. He was confident that marriage would be no exception.

However, his confidence was shattered when he finally met Eldira after so long.

“I don’t mind at all! Let’s get married!”

“….”

Sylas rubbed the back of his neck, speechless.

After his meeting with the Grand Duke, it didn’t take long for Eldira to come find Sylas. It seemed she had accompanied them to the castle from the beginning. As she opened the door and entered, she beamed brightly at him.

“Sylas, it’s been too long!”

“…”

“What’s wrong? You look strange.”

“Ah, sorry. I was just… lost in thought.”

Sylas tried to deflect, but honestly, he’d been momentarily stunned. She’d always been beautiful, but seeing her in such elegant attire made her look otherworldly.

So it really is true that clothes make the person, he thought. The white dress she wore flowed around her like woven mist, adorned with faintly glimmering golden jewelry that accentuated her natural elegance. Subtle hints of bare skin peeked through the dress, enhancing not sensuality but a pure, ethereal beauty.