Lord of Caldera - Chapter 319

Chapter 319: Chapter 319 The Calamity Of Conrad
“I… I have no excuse!”

“This is your first offense, so I will forgive it. But there will not be a second time.”

Sylas’s chilling words were followed by his turning away. Though the baronet now carried the stigma of attempting insubordination, it was better than being labeled a potential traitor.

“This concludes today’s banquet.”

With that brief remark, Sylas exited the hall, followed silently by Baron Kaspar. The remaining nobles were left in a heavy silence, unable to move for a long while.

Sylas strode through the corridor with a grim expression, as if his fury might erupt at any moment. The sight of him caused people to quickly scatter and step aside. However, the moment he entered his quarters, a light chuckle escaped his lips.

“Their terrified faces were priceless,” he said with a faint smirk, his earlier anger vanishing as if it had been a lie.

Baron Kaspar, following behind, gave him a puzzled look.

“Did you really have to go that far?”

“What? You didn’t like it?”

“I’m concerned it might harm the cohesion of the alliance,” Kaspar said cautiously.

“Alliance cohesion, my foot,” Sylas scoffed.

“This so-called alliance is nothing more than a ragtag assembly. What cohesion is there to damage?”

“That may be true, but if today’s events become a catalyst for breaking it apart…”

“It’s the opposite. This little performance was precisely to prevent that from happening.”

Kaspar tilted his head, confused. Had Sylas really berated and intimidated the nobles to keep them from scattering?

“Could you elaborate?”

“Lower-ranking nobles without territories all share one weakness. Any guesses as to what that might be?”

“Weakness? Military power?” Kaspar ventured, assuming their lack of experience in commanding large armies might be a disadvantage.

“No. Politics.”

“Politics? But, Your Excellency, they are still nobles,” Kaspar protested.

“I know that. But they’ve never truly engaged in real politics,” Sylas said.

In other words, they lacked experience. Their strategies lacked depth, and even their most elaborate plans were laughably easy to predict. This was true even for lower-ranking nobles from the southern regions, where intrigue was a daily occurrence.

“The problem is that their inability to handle politics also means they can’t negotiate. They don’t know when to push forward or when to step back.”

“So, they might make excessive demands of you?”

“Exactly. Anyone with a modicum of understanding would know their limits, but these people lack that insight.”

They wouldn’t even recognize when their demands were excessive. They didn’t know how to tread carefully or avoid provocation. They couldn’t gauge whether their requests were feasible or not, often doubting even the truth when presented with it.

“At worst, they might make endless demands or cling desperately to emotional pleas. Either way, it’s a headache I don’t need.”

Sylas’s dramatic performance at the banquet had changed the dynamic. By threatening purges over something as minor as refusing a drink, he’d planted the seed of fear.

Now, the nobles would hesitate, fearing that one misstep or poorly chosen word might brand them as traitors.

“Under normal circumstances, such pressure would shatter an alliance. But right now, there’s a tantalizing prize in front of them.”

“Territories,” Kaspar said, catching on.

“Exactly. Land,” Sylas confirmed.

A prize so alluring that the nobles couldn’t resist: fertile lands that would yield taxes for a lifetime. They’d already seen the wealth of the city, realizing they didn’t even need entire villages. Just dividing the rights to the city’s resources would be more than enough to make them rich.

“The risk of making excessive demands is far too great, while obediently following orders offers sweet rewards. Which path do you think they’ll choose?”

“They’ll stay silent and follow your orders,” Kaspar replied.

With a satisfied grin, Sylas said, “Exactly. That’s what I’m aiming for.”

Sylas’s prediction proved accurate. From that day on, none of the nobles approached him unnecessarily. They focused solely on inspecting their troops and preparing for the next battle.

Even the expected faction-building never materialized. Instead of whispering among themselves, the nobles devoted themselves to their tasks with singular focus.

Watching this unfold, Kaspar couldn’t help but feel a chill.

What a terrifying man.

Only then did Kaspar fully understand. While Sylas’s monstrous strength overshadowed everything else, his true brilliance lay in his cunning. He was unparalleled when it came to manipulating people’s psychology to achieve his goals.

That foolish emperor. I heard he sent Sylas here to die, but instead, he might devour the entire southern region.

Kaspar clicked his tongue as he thought about the emperor, who had shown no growth from his days in captivity. In a way, the imperial family had created their own greatest enemy.

At least, Kaspar thought with relief, he was standing on the opposite side of the foolish emperor.

That evening, Sylas gathered the nobles and made a single declaration.

“We will begin the advance.”

Thus began the calamity of Conrad.

Conrad sat with hollow eyes, scanning the documents before him. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, and his trembling hands betrayed signs of mild tremors. His frail appearance drew a heavy sigh from Ervin.

“Your Excellency, you need to rest.”

“I can’t sleep.”

“Your Excellency—”

“Damn it, I said I can’t sleep! How can I rest when every time I wake, it’s only to hear more bad news?”

His voice, heavy with frustration, sounded more like a weary groan than a shout. He didn’t even seem to have the energy to raise it.

“How far back has the defensive line been pushed? What are they doing now?”

“We haven’t received updates yet. It will take some time, so in the meantime…”

Before Ervin could finish suggesting some rest, he clamped his mouth shut at the sound of hurried footsteps approaching. As expected, a messenger arrived from the embattled fortress, delivering an urgent report.

“The fortress of Donau has fallen.”

“Damn it, I knew it.”

Conrad slumped into his chair with a groan. He had anticipated this outcome, so the news didn’t shock him as much as it might have. Or perhaps, without hope, there was no room for further disappointment.