Lord of Caldera - Chapter 248

Chapter 248: Chapter 248

It was possible to recognize them, his father had said, though the real danger came when pride and a thirst for victory overpowered that instinct. His father had only one warning for him: “Never ignore it. If your instincts warn you, turn and run.”

Halcan had promised himself he would heed his father’s warning. The problem was that in his thirty years, he had never met anyone who triggered that instinct.

“He must have exaggerated. There’s no one who can stand up to me,” he would think to himself. Over time, his caution faded, and confidence soured into arrogance. Sometimes, he wondered if all those with “thicker blood” had simply died off.

“Could I really be the strongest in the world?”

The thought, once a joke, had turned into a serious possibility. Lately, he had even started hinting to clients that there was no one stronger than he.

But today, as he faced Sylas on that quiet road, Halcan felt his instincts ignite with a force he had never known before.

Halcan’s forehead was drenched in cold sweat. What was I thinking? He cursed his younger self for ever believing he was unbeatable. Standing before him was a young knight of an entirely different magnitude.

Run. Running is the only way to survive.

But it was too late. His foolish employer had already started a conversation with the very person Halcan was desperate to avoid.

“To receive such a grand escort of knights—I’m almost moved to tears by the gesture,” Sylas said, feigning gratitude.

“Are you mocking me? Do you think this looks like a welcome?” Dani retorted, his voice laced with sarcasm.

“A welcome indeed,” Sylas replied with a slight smile. “So, what is it, if not that?”

“It’s to uncover the truth behind your inflated reputation!” Dani was about to continue when Halcan suddenly stepped forward and bowed.

“It’s indeed a welcome. An honor to meet you, Sir Sylas.”

“Halcan!” Dani’s jaw dropped, stunned by his mercenary’s sudden submission.

“What nonsense are you saying?” Dani snapped, bewildered.

“Oh, forgive me, introductions slipped my mind. I am Halcan Rugos.”

Sylas nodded with a pleasant smile. “A pleasure. You have quite a spirited presence.”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Halcan replied, ignoring Dani and reaching out his hand for a handshake. Sylas took it, and in that instant, a chill shot through Halcan’s entire body.

It’s a dragon.

For just a moment, he saw it—Sylas’s eyes gleaming golden, slitted like those of a beast, as they gazed down at him with an unfathomable intensity. Halcan felt as though an immense weight were pressing down on him, stealing his breath and sending a shiver up his spine.

“Are you all right? You look unwell,” Sylas noted.

“I-I’m fine,” Halcan stammered, though his face was ghostly pale. Relieved to have even a moment of respite, he turned to answer, only to catch sight of Sylas’s companions. His mouth went dry.

What… what is this?

Next to Sylas stood a man who radiated an aura as overwhelming as a giant. Though slightly smaller than the dragon-like presence beside him, he was more than capable of crushing any ordinary human.

“Halcan Rugos… the name sounds familiar,” said a female knight who had been watching the exchange, her voice cutting into Halcan’s mounting dread.

“Yes! I’m known to have a bit of a reputation,” he said, forcing a smile, only to turn his head and see her, a powerful aura of flames swirling around her.

A spirit of fire? She’ll burn me to ashes.

This wasn’t a mere ordinary knight. The fire emanating from her was alive, ready to consume him. Her power was nearly equal to that of the giant, and Halcan finally realized the truth.

I’ve been nothing but a wolf in a herd of sheep.

In the presence of these titans—the dragon, the giant, and the fire spirit—he was nothing but a helpless pup. He swallowed, trying to force down his rising panic.

“Oh, I almost forgot my own introduction,” Sylas said with a cheerful tone, clapping his hands as if remembering a simple pleasantry. “I’m Sylas Corleone.”

“Ah, Sylas Corleone… Wait… Sylas Corleone?”

Halcan’s mind raced as he processed the name. The worst possibility crossed his mind, and his face turned pale as he stammered, “Y-you mean the Demon Slayer of Baltor?”

“Oh, so that title’s gotten around, has it?” Sylas chuckled, as though amused.

A hush fell over the group, and then, the mercenaries erupted in whispers and exclamations.

“The Demon Slayer of Baltor?”

“The Dragon Slayer King?”

“The Heir of Godfrey!”

Sylas blinked in surprise, unfamiliar with the last two titles. “Dragon Slayer King? Heir of Godfrey? Where did those come from?”

“Forgive me, but… are you the one who participated in the northern succession war?” a mercenary asked in awe.

“Yes, though I withdrew midway,” Sylas confirmed, looking nonchalant.

The mercenary gasped, visibly shaken.

Halcan felt his legs grow weak, nearly collapsing under him as he struggled to steady himself, his voice trembling.

“I-I heard… that you slew multiple dragons in the North?”

“That’s correct,” Sylas replied calmly.

“After that, they started calling you the Dragon Slayer King. Even though you withdrew, you were part of the northern succession war,” Halcan explained, his words laced with awe.

It was customary to give titles that sounded grander. Sylas, who could have become a king, was called the Dragon Slayer King rather than just a dragon slayer. Sylas nodded, understanding the reasoning.

“And the ‘Heir of Godfrey’ title—that’s because of the dragon’s heart?”

“Precisely,” Halcan confirmed.

Sylas chuckled as if it were all trivial. “All this from eating a single remnant of Godfrey’s legacy,” he said with a shrug.

To Halcan, Sylas’s dismissal was almost laughable. That single remnant, a dragon’s heart, was invaluable—an artifact that would incite bloodshed across the empire purely for its rarity. Sylas hadn’t just kept it; he had consumed it, making him infamous worldwide.

And to think, he earned the Dragon Slayer King title with the power he gained from it.

These titles weren’t just honors; they were rare, almost mythical. And this young knight before him, barely sixteen, had amassed three of them. Sylas was no ordinary genius; he was a monster of legend in Halcan’s eyes.