Lord of Caldera - Chapter 329

Chapter 329: Chapter 329 The Elves Assistance
The knights bowed their heads, acknowledging his reasoning. He wasn’t wrong—mobilizing an army often caused harm to the people of the regions they passed through. Moreover, provoking the grudges of other lords and inviting the scrutiny of the imperial family was unwise.

“But sending individuals is a different matter,” Bill added.

“…?”

“I ask my loyal knights: are there any among you who wish to journey the world as a squire, gaining experience to elevate yourselves as knights?”

The knights blinked in confusion at first, but as the meaning of his words dawned on them, their eyes lit up.

“Your Excellency, your words are truly wise!”

“A knight must return to their roots and reflect upon themselves from time to time.”

“Now is the perfect time to journey as a squire and see the world!”

“Who wouldn’t volunteer for such an endeavor?”

Bill smiled faintly at their enthusiastic responses.

“How noble it is to see my knights returning to their core duties,” he remarked.

“Of course, it’s only natural for knights of the Corleone family!”

“Indeed. But even so, some must remain to protect the people.”

Bill’s voice rang out as he addressed his knights.

“I will allow half of our knights to leave as squires. Those who wish to elevate their knightly standing, step forward now!”

Barely had he finished speaking when knights eagerly called out their names, raising their hands high. Bill smiled as he selected those he had particularly noted.

That day, knights laden with provisions and funds set off for the South along different routes. This marked the mobilization of the Corleone family’s elite Red Dragon Knights—renowned as the strongest order on the continent and rivals of the Royal Guard.

“Help, is it? That was faster than I expected.”

Archduke Arathion of the Elven Principality murmured as he set down the letter. Sylas didn’t necessarily need his help in this situation. Sending a letter to Arathion and other allies clearly had another purpose.

“So he’s deliberately incurring a debt. Crafty son-in-law.”

Despite his exasperated tone, a smile played on Arathion’s lips. This was Sylas’s way of strengthening their bond. For Arathion, who had entrusted the future of the elves to Sylas, it was a welcome move.

“In that case, I must assist him properly. Enough to surprise him.”

Arathion stood abruptly and turned to his steward.

“How many sets of magical armor do we currently have in storage?”

“We have slightly over five hundred unused sets stored away,” the steward replied.

“Gather them all. They’ll be a gift for my son-in-law.”

“All of them? Are you giving them all to humans?”

“Humans?” Arathion’s gaze turned sharp, making the steward flinch before bowing his head calmly.

“I don’t mean Lord Sylas specifically. I’m concerned about magical armor falling into human hands.”

“And what problem would that cause? They cannot replicate or reinterpret the enchantments anyway,” Arathion said coldly, silencing further objections.

“Gather the magical armor immediately! It’s a gift for my son-in-law struggling in the South.”

“Understood. However, we cannot oversee its transport beyond our borders.”

The boundary of the elven principality ended at the forest adjoining the Hernig territory. Beyond that lay human lands, where contact and control became challenging.

“We’ll have to rely entirely on Hernig’s steward for transportation. Are you certain about this? If intercepted, the armor could end up benefiting the wrong people.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Arathion said with a sly smile. He was well aware of the dynamic between Hernig’s steward and its lord.

“If he values his life, he’ll handle it properly.”

Leon Winslow, steward of the Hernig family, folded Sylas’s letter silently. He had already read its lengthy contents. The message was simple—Sylas sought aid.

The real issue lay not in Sylas’s request but in the small note from Rey attached beneath it.

The note contained a single line:

“Help him. With everything you have.”

Leon squeezed his eyes shut. The option of minimal assistance was off the table. He would have to stretch resources to meet Rey’s expectations.

‘At least she doesn’t know the full state of the estate’s finances,’ he thought—until he noticed another note hidden beneath Rey’s.

He picked it up and read it:

“If you give half-hearted aid, I’ll personally remove your head. –Rey”

A chill ran down his spine. It was a new experience to feel murderous intent from mere words. As he slumped into his chair, gripping his head, a frantic official burst in.

“Steward! Urgent news!”

“What now?”

“Archduke Arathion is sending five hundred sets of magical armor to the South!”

Leon shuddered. For humans, elven magical armor was a treasure—a suit so superior that even a knight’s full plate seemed inferior. It could allow common soldiers to defeat enemies three times their number. Naturally, such a shipment would attract countless predators.

“Steward, please say something! Transporting it is impossible! Thieves, mercenaries, even nobles will swarm us. Protecting it would require—”

“Transport it.”

“…What did you say?”

“I said, transport it,” Leon repeated coldly.

“Steward, this is impossible! Even if done in secret, it’s unlikely, but openly—”

“Use everything.”

The official froze as Leon glared, his bloodshot eyes making him appear feral.

“Use every resource we have. Emergency funds, trade profits, all of it. Protect the cargo, no matter the cost.”

“But the Hernig estate will suffer catastrophic losses—”

“Silence.”

Grinding his teeth, Leon stared down the official until blood began to seep from his own eyes.

“Just transport it.”

The official withdrew, too terrified to argue further. Once alone, Leon composed letters to the three rival families in the region.

“Anyone who obstructs transport dies. Anyone who steals dies. If your lands hinder this effort, you die. If you fail to help, you’ll all answer to the Count.”

The letters had an immediate effect. Within a week, the Western region was in turmoil. Every remaining monster, rogue, and mercenary with suspicious ties was hunted down mercilessly by the three lords.

By the time the elves’ magical armor shipment departed, the roads to the South were not only secure but pristine.