Lord of Caldera - Chapter 336

Chapter 336: Chapter 336 Hardship
Though their numbers were not large, their sheer presence and spirit overwhelmed the atmosphere, their cries carrying the weight of thousands. The display of might caused even allied knights to falter.

‘Incredible. So this is the spirit of the Red Dragon Knights?’

‘Even the lackeys of the traitors seemed above us before, but this… this is another level.’

‘I feel ashamed for my pride back in my small corner of the world.’

Knights who had previously served under minor lords found themselves lowering their heads, awed by the gap in power and presence. Yet, rather than despair, their fighting spirit reignited.

‘I’m not too old to learn. I’ll grow stronger.’

‘Now that true knights are here, I can learn from them.’

The southern knights’ fiery determination heated the air, and Sylas, sensing their resolve, turned his gaze to the side as the cheers began to subside.

“By the way…”

He looked at an unexpected guest among the reinforcements—a towering man with a surly expression.

“I didn’t think you’d show up,” Sylas said, raising an eyebrow.

“I didn’t want to come,” the man grumbled.

The speaker was Ragnar, a northern giant wielding a massive axe. Once, he had been Sylas’s only real rival during the northern king selection contest. Now, his broad frame was paired with a displeased pout.

The sight of Ragnar’s sour expression left the crowd in stunned silence. His demeanor was unusual for a reinforcement, lacking the camaraderie or joy expected of such an occasion.

Sylas, however, merely chuckled.

“Stop pouting. You’re built like a bear, but you sulk like a duck.”

“Hmph. People have told me my mouth looks like a duck’s. Back in the day, they even called me Duck Beak,” Ragnar replied, his tone dry.

At that, Sylas burst out laughing.

The rivalry between the two was long resolved, but Ragnar still harbored lingering frustration over having been bested by Sylas during the king selection contest.

“Hah! I’d love to tell your subordinates what you just said.”

“If they were here, I wouldn’t have said it in the first place,” Ragnar retorted.

“How did you get here so quickly, anyway? You had the furthest distance to travel.”

“Oh, nothing special,” Ragnar said, folding his arms. “I rode straight, swapping horses along the way. Made things simple.”

“Straight through? You must have passed through monster-infested areas and bandit territory,” Sylas noted, raising an eyebrow.

“Sure did. Took care of quite a few of them on the way. It kept things interesting.”

“Reckless,” Sylas muttered.

“Quiet, you. If you’re just going to mock me, take this instead,” Ragnar grumbled, unloading a heavy sack from his horse.

Curious, Sylas opened the bag immediately. Inside was a treasure trove of lapis lazuli, amethysts, rubies, and even platinum ingots.

“Lapis, amethyst, rubies, and platinum? Isn’t this a bit excessive? Did Bjorn overextend himself?” Sylas asked, surprised.

“Not at all. This is just what we could spare,” Ragnar said with a shrug. His tone was casual, but it was clear he wasn’t exaggerating.

“North is rich in gemstones, but not to this extent,” Sylas mused.

“You’re missing something,” Ragnar explained. “There are plenty of mines in the north we’ve known about but never touched.”

“Why not… Oh.”

It dawned on Sylas. For years, the north had been embroiled in near-constant wars with barbarian tribes. Developing certain mines would have been too risky, as they could easily become collateral damage.

“After unifying the north, you finally started developing them,” Sylas realized.

Even so, the quality and quantity were extraordinary. No wonder the Imperial Court had tried so hard to control the north.

“Accept it. And pass along my thanks to Bjorn,” Sylas said.

“What, no thanks for me?” Ragnar asked.

“I’ll make sure you earn it,” Sylas replied with a sly grin.

Realizing the meaning behind Sylas’s words, Ragnar grimaced.

Chapter 176 (Part 2 Translation – First-Person to Third-Person Narrative):

“I’ve traveled from the northern edge of the continent to its farthest reaches, and now you plan to work me even harder? Are you serious?” Ragnar grumbled.

“Of course! With such a reliable ally here, why would I let you sit idle? Besides, didn’t Bjorn send you specifically to help me?” Sylas replied with a smirk.

“Dammit,” Ragnar muttered, though he eventually nodded in acceptance. He had known this was coming but couldn’t resist complaining at least once.

With their conversation over, Sylas turned his attention to the final delegation. Most were human, but among them were a few exceptions—elves with unmistakably long ears peeking out from under black hoods.

“The Grand Duke’s servants greet the great Half-Dragon,” one of the elves said, bowing.

“You’ve done well to come, heirs of true magic,” Sylas said warmly, greeting the elves with a smile.

It wasn’t just elves who had come. Numerically, the human delegation from the west far outnumbered them.

“We apologize, Your Excellency. The circumstances in the west have been difficult…” said a representative, Leon, the acting lord, bowing and sweating profusely.

The west’s contribution amounted to only three chests of gold coins. While it wasn’t an insignificant amount, it paled compared to the scale of the war.

“Hmm. Has the west fallen on hard times? I thought all that trade would’ve made you rich. Or perhaps you’ve been lining your own pockets?” Sylas said with a teasing tone.

“T-That’s not it! There’s a reason for this!” Leon stammered, visibly panicking.

“Relax, I’m only joking,” Sylas said with a chuckle.

Seeing Leon’s pale face, he softened his tone. “I understand the challenges you’ve faced. I know the west has done its best. I also know how arduous the journey here must have been, given the treasure you were transporting.”

“Y-Your Excellency…” Leon’s voice quivered, tears welling up in his eyes from relief.

The west’s contribution might have seemed lacking compared to the eastern knights or the northern gemstones. The elves, after all, had brought 500 sets of magical armor—a contribution that dwarfed the west’s.

To an uninformed observer, such disparity might have appeared offensive. But Sylas understood the reality.

‘The west likely endured as much, if not more, hardship than the north.’

Transporting 500 sets of magical armor would have drawn countless opportunists, from overt attackers to covert thieves, from external bandits to internal traitors. While the elves had crafted the armor, it was the humans who bore the brunt of safeguarding and delivering it.

“You’ve completed your mission admirably. I’ll ensure the acting lord knows of your efforts. Rest well,” Sylas said kindly.

“Thank you! Truly, thank you, Your Excellency!” Leon replied, tears streaming down his face.