Lord of Caldera - Chapter 287

Chapter 287: Chapter 287

“It is, isn’t it? But such a simple observation doesn’t do it justice,” came a languid voice from deeper inside the cell.

Both Sylas and the other prisoner turned toward the voice. At the far end of the room, a refined-looking man was casually pouring wine into a glass.

“There’s much more to admire here than just the size. Look at the opulence,” the man continued, gesturing to the luxurious furnishings.

The other prisoner, who had been seething, was left momentarily speechless as he took in the surroundings. A table and chairs, a large bed with plush bedding, carpets on the floor—it was nothing like a typical cell. Adding to the surreal scene were several rough-looking prisoners who hovered around the refined man like servants, as well as a few women who appeared to be courtesans.

“Is this… really a prison?” the other prisoner muttered, incredulous.

The refined man chuckled. “Technically, yes, but it’s more accurate to call it my room. A sanctuary prepared just for me.”

“Who the hell are you?” the prisoner growled.

“Tch, typical knights,” the man said, wrinkling his nose in disdain. Like Sylas, he seemed to recognize the prisoner’s status from his demeanor.

“When someone extends civility, isn’t it customary to reciprocate? Yet here you are, acting as if you’re inherently superior,” the man continued, his tone sharp.

“Indeed! Such arrogance!” one of the lackeys chimed in, followed by a chorus of similar remarks from the others.

“Quiet,” the refined man snapped. Instantly, the room fell silent, his lackeys visibly cowed by his authority.

The man stretched and stood up, his movements leisurely but deliberate. “Enough chatter. Tell me, what message did Christophe send? Are these two here for execution or slavery?”

“Execution, both of them,” one of his followers answered.

“Good.” The man grinned, baring teeth in a way that was more predatory than pleasant. “In that case, let’s not waste any time. Shall we send them off mercifully?”

“You arrogant bastard!” the knight roared, unable to contain his fury any longer. “I may be unarmed, but I’ll take you down barehanded if I must!”

Thwack.

A sickening sound echoed through the cell. The knight froze, his eyes wide as he looked down at his abdomen. The refined man’s hand, now crimson, had pierced through his stomach.

“All bark,” the man said coldly.

“H-how…?” the knight gasped before blood gurgled from his mouth. The man withdrew his hand with a wet sound, and the knight collapsed to the floor, lifeless.

The refined man turned his gaze to Sylas. “And now, it’s your turn.”

Sylas said nothing, merely staring at him. The silence stretched, making the man’s smile grow thinner.

“Well, aren’t you the quiet one? You look young—just knighted, perhaps? Such a shame to die at your age,” the man sneered.

“Are you a demon?” Sylas asked abruptly.

The man froze, his composure slipping. Sylas’s calm gaze lingered on him, and then he nodded to himself. “I thought so. I’ve sensed this before.”

“What nonsense are you spouting?” the man snapped.

“I’ve seen humans mixed with giants and spirits. But a human mixed with a demon? That’s a first,” Sylas mused.

“…!” The man’s eyes widened in shock. His secret, guarded all his life, had been uncovered in mere moments. His smirk vanished, replaced by a cold fury.

“Who the hell are you?” he demanded.

“I was about to ask you the same thing. What could possibly lead someone to mix with a demon—” Sylas began.

“Silence!” the man bellowed, launching himself at Sylas with inhuman speed. His movements were a blur, far beyond what any normal human could track.

His hand shot toward Sylas’s chest, aiming to tear out his heart. But just before it reached its target, it stopped abruptly. The man looked down, stunned, to see Sylas’s hand gripping his wrist.

“What…?!” the man gasped.

“Fast,” Sylas murmured, tightening his grip. “In terms of raw physical ability, you might even surpass Toby.”

The man’s face contorted in horror. Sylas had not only seen his attack but intercepted it with ease. He tried to wrench his arm free, but Sylas’s grip was unrelenting.

“I have a lot of questions for you,” Sylas said, his voice calm yet dangerous. His lips curled into a sharp smile.

“But first, let’s have a little chat.”

And then, with frightening precision, Sylas swung his free hand.

“Nonsense!” the man bellowed, swinging his free hand at Sylas. The sheer force of his attack whipped the air, sending shockwaves through the cell. His fist shot toward Sylas’s temple like a spear.

“Fast, I’ll give him that. But let’s see how tough he really is…”

Thwack.

“Gah!?”

Before the thought finished forming in his mind, a guttural sound escaped the man’s lips. Sylas had already closed the distance and delivered a crushing blow to his abdomen.

“Impressive flair,” Sylas remarked. “Though, I suppose you’ve never faced a real opponent before.”

“Urgh… cough, cough!”

The man stumbled back a few steps, coughing violently. His mind raced, trying to process the pain that made speech almost impossible.

“Damn it…!”

Yet, his determination didn’t waver. He wasn’t used to losing, and one solid strike wasn’t enough to make him back down.

“Fine! Let’s settle this once and for all!” he growled.

“Whose end are we talking about here? Yours?” Sylas quipped with a smirk.

“You bastard!” The man’s eyes filled with fury as he charged. This time, his attacks were more precise, his movements more calculated. Gone was the reckless aggression—he was now fighting like a trained martial artist.

“Not a street brawler, then,” Sylas mused.

Whoosh.

The air whistled as the man’s strikes narrowly missed Sylas. His attacks were a blend of raw power and technical precision, reminiscent of the refined techniques of a noble family’s martial tradition.

“Stronger than Toby, and skilled enough not to be underestimated.”

On the surface, the man seemed evenly matched with Sylas’s knights. But Sylas quickly identified his fatal flaw.

“You slippery little—!” the man snarled, frustrated as Sylas dodged his strikes with ease.

Crack!

“Urgh!”