Lord of Caldera - Chapter 268

Chapter 268: Chapter 268

But once they noticed the trembling paws of that lion…

“It’s only a matter of time before the accumulated grievances explode.”

Just as Sylas concluded his thoughts, the stillness of the banquet hall was shattered by a booming announcement.

“His Majesty the Emperor has arrived! Show your respect!”

“…!”

At the imperial chamberlain’s proclamation, every noble in the hall shot to their feet, turning toward the entrance. Moments later, the doors swung open, revealing the aging Emperor.

At first glance, he seemed like a benevolent old king. However, the extravagance of his attire, more dazzling than anyone else’s in the room, hinted at his true character.

Sylas muttered the name he’d once heard in passing.

“Sieghard Valdeque La Rejina.”

A monarch who would later earn the nickname “The Lazy Emperor” after his death.

The Emperor ascended to the throne overlooking the entire banquet hall and spoke with a smile.

“It pleases me greatly to see so many gathered to celebrate my long life.”

In truth, much of this attendance was mandatory, but no one would admit that in an official setting. The pretense was that all were “voluntarily” present.

At his words, a few nobles subtly furrowed their brows.

“I am now sixty years old. To have maintained my health and longevity this long is surely a blessing from our founding Emperor. Moreover, the unwavering loyalty of my subjects remains unchanged. Is this not a joyous occasion?”

“Indeed, Your Majesty!”

“Congratulations, Your Majesty!”

Several nobles, primarily court nobles entrenched within the imperial circle, echoed his sentiment. Pleased by their response, the Emperor nodded vigorously.

“This alone brings me joy, but recently, the Empire has been graced with multiple blessings. Truly, I am a fortunate ruler.”

“Your Majesty, what blessings do you refer to?”

“Surely, you are all aware. Three great events have taken place, and the first among them is the emergence of a young hero.”

The nobles flinched visibly, and the faces of Sylas, Count Bill, and Ray tensed slightly. None of them had expected such a blatant reference.

“He plans to settle this matter before the banquet properly begins.”

It wasn’t a wrong move. Political issues were often dealt with early during such grand events. But the Emperor’s prior summons had mentioned nothing beyond a desire to meet. This situation had caught even Sylas’s group off guard.

“Sylas Corleone! The young hero who slew the dragon! Show yourself!”

“Good heavens,” Count Bill muttered under his breath, momentarily stunned. He hadn’t expected the Emperor to call out so openly.

Realizing there was no refusing such a summons, Sylas surveyed his surroundings briefly before standing.

“Your Majesty, I, Sylas Corleone, humbly present myself!”

“…!”

At his proclamation, every gaze in the room turned toward him. Those who knew of him only stiffened momentarily, but those who didn’t were left with their mouths agape.

“That young man is the dragonslayer?”

“He’s not just young—he’s practically a boy!”

At just seventeen, having only recently completed his coming-of-age ceremony, “young” hardly described him. “Boyish” seemed more appropriate.

Yet, this boy had reportedly slain dragons one after another as if they were mere prey. Doubt was etched on the faces of the nobles, but the Emperor, looking delighted, beckoned him closer.

“Come forward. I wish to see the hero of my Empire up close.”

“Then, if I may,” Sylas said, advancing with measured steps and kneeling before the Emperor in accordance with court etiquette.

The Emperor studied him closely, his expression one of admiration.

“Haha! What an imposing figure. It feels as though I am looking at the Corleone founder the Dragonslayer, whose feats I’ve only seen depicted in portraits.”

“You honor me beyond what I deserve,” Sylas replied humbly.

“How could a ruler stand idly by when such an extraordinary hero has emerged? It is only fitting for an Emperor to bestow rewards worthy of a hero’s deeds!”

The nobles murmured in agreement. Strictly speaking, Sylas’s actions had been to defend the North, but the Emperor ruled over the entire Empire. Any contribution to the Empire’s security merited recognition—and if that contribution involved slaying dragons, even more so.

“The question is, what kind of reward will he give?”

Too small a reward, and the Emperor would seem petty and narrow-minded. Too grand, and Sylas might grow too powerful to control. Striking a balance was the Emperor’s challenge.

As everyone waited with bated breath, the Emperor made his proclamation.

“Listen well! I, Emperor, hereby bestow upon Sylas Corleone the title of Count and grant him an estate!”

“…!”

The announcement left the room in shock. Granting a mere noble’s child the rank of Count was an extraordinary decision, the kind of honor usually reserved for the Empire’s founding contributors.

Even Sylas, the recipient, stared at the Emperor in bewilderment.

“What is he planning?”

If the Emperor had granted him the title of Count, he would also have to provide an estate commensurate with the rank. While this was an exceptional boon for Sylas, it was tantamount to tightening a noose around the Empire’s own neck.

“There must be some ulterior motive.”

Sylas’s suspicions proved accurate. As the nobles were still reeling from the announcement, the Emperor continued,

“I grant you the former estate of Count Drakkenfels!”

“….”

At the mention of Drakkenfels, the banquet hall fell into stunned silence. It was infamous, after all.

“The blood-soaked lands of Drakkenfels.”

The estate was notorious for its endless conflicts, with countless parties claiming rightful ownership, leading to perpetual war. It was the Empire’s largest hotspot of strife.

“Deception.”

The thought crossed the minds of every noble simultaneously.

Certainly, Drakkenfels was a fitting territory for a count, perhaps even more. The land was fertile, rich in iron ore, and blessed with sprawling pastures ideal for raising horses. Its vastness alone made it a coveted prize for any noble.

“But Drakkenfels is plagued by endless disputes over ownership.”

“Aren’t there over twenty nobles claiming rightful inheritance?”

The chaos stemmed from the late Count Brahim, who had once ruled Drakkenfels with unparalleled power. His authority rivaled that of Corleone, the ruler of the East.