Lord of Caldera - Chapter 343

Chapter 343: Chapter 343 Drakenfels Has Been Unified
“These madmen actually tried to assassinate him!”

Sylas, hearing Zeldir’s confession, chuckled coldly. Without hesitation, he drained the remaining wine in one gulp.

Gulp.

“Your Excellency!”

“What are you doing!?”

The nobles gasped in horror, but Sylas nonchalantly wiped his lips and tossed the goblet aside. All eyes were on him, waiting for any sign of the poison taking effect. Yet as time passed, Sylas remained completely unharmed.

Gerdt stared at him in disbelief.

“How… How is this possible?”

“Did you really think a poison made from a dragon could harm a descendant of dragons?” Sylas said with a smirk.

“…!?”

It wasn’t just a fabricated legend? The two lords felt the strength drain from their bodies as despair consumed them. Sylas’s words left not only the lords but the entire camp in shock.

“Long live the Count! Long live the Dragon’s Bloodline!”

“He survived the poison? Truly miraculous!”

“Praise the goddess!”

Cheers erupted among the allied soldiers, while the alliance’s forces slumped to the ground in defeat, crossing themselves in desperation.

A rare bloodline, combined with the lords’ treachery and Sylas’s bold display, had multiplied the effect of his performance tenfold.

“If you have any last words, speak them now,” Sylas declared.

“…”

Neither lord could muster a response. Even if they sought help from their knights and soldiers, no one would come to their aid. Their men gazed at them with cold, contemptuous eyes, fully aware of their guilt. Realizing there was no escape, despair filled Gerdt and Zeldir’s eyes.

The heads of the three lords were sent to their respective territories. The heirs of their houses, shocked and horrified, called for vengeance against Sylas. But their cries fell on deaf ears.

“Our lord—no, former lord—attempted something so vile, and you want us to keep fighting?”

“Are you insane? Forget honor. Do you want to be seen as a lackey of a coward?”

“There’s no chance of victory anyway. The smart move is to cut ties and get out while we can.”

The assassination attempt had utterly destroyed the reputations of the lords and their houses. Even in the south, where honor was often undervalued, the disgrace was too much to bear. Knights who had sworn lifelong loyalty to the lords spat on their names and walked away.

The heirs tried desperately to reverse the tide, but it was futile. Many knights and soldiers defected, rushing to surrender to Sylas’s forces.

“We didn’t know. We had no idea our lord would commit such treachery.”

“Please give us a chance to redeem ourselves. We’ll fight at the vanguard for the alliance.”

Knights and soldiers who sought to cleanse their reputations before being branded as traitors flocked to Sylas, eager to prove their loyalty. Accepting their surrender, Sylas declared,

“Very well! Fight at the vanguard and prove your innocence and honor.”

“Thank you, Your Excellency!”

“We will give our lives for the cause!”

From then on, it was merely a matter of taking over the castles and strongholds. With knights who knew the internal workings of the enemy surrendering, and the fortresses left nearly empty due to deserters and defectors, most settlements raised the white flag without resistance. Only a few fools chose to fight to the death, but they quickly ended up as corpses.

As a result, Sylas managed to seize control of all three territories in less than a month.

“Their idiotic schemes turned into a major gain for me,” Sylas said with a satisfied smile.

In truth, Sylas’s lineage was extraordinary, even among ancient bloodlines. Unlike others whose human forms carried a diluted trace of ancient power, Sylas’s body was akin to that of a half-dragon like the legendary Leonik. Human poisons were practically ineffective against him.

The only reason Sylas had employed food tasters until now was to hide this fact. He wanted to tempt foolish opponents into attempting poison, a tactic he could easily counter and exploit.

“I didn’t expect them to bring out Dragon Fear of all things,” he mused. Though the poison had little effect on him, it was still unpleasant. Even if it only caused mild irritation, it wasn’t something he would willingly ingest.

And yet, they had chosen a poison derived from dragons—completely ineffective against Sylas’s dragon-like physiology. Their mistake allowed Sylas to perform his “poison drinking” act, cementing his reputation as a true heir of dragon blood and multiplying his influence.

“Those three must be crying blood in the afterlife. Not only did they hand me an excuse to kill them, but they also boosted my fame.”

Sylas chuckled silently as he picked up a document. The war was over. All that remained were the tasks of distributing rewards, dividing the territories, and eliminating the remnants of opposition. These were matters that could be handled at a leisurely pace.

“What did you say? Sylas Corleone—no, Sylas Drakenfels—ended the civil war?”

Emperor Zikardt muttered in disbelief, his voice trembling. His wide eyes reflected pure shock.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” a courtier replied.

“Are you mocking me?” the emperor roared.

“M-mocking, Your Majesty?”

“It hasn’t even been a year! That man hasn’t even been in the south for a full year yet!”

Rising abruptly from his throne, the emperor shouted furiously, his face twisted in rage.

“Drakenfels! Of all places, Drakenfels! The battlefield of rival claimants and warlords! And he managed to unify it all and claim it as his domain in less than a year?”

The courtiers remained silent, their heads bowed as the emperor’s wrath filled the chamber. After venting for some time, Zikardt collapsed back into his throne, his expression weary.

“It’s a lie. Someone tell me it’s a lie.”

“Your Majesty, please compose yourself,” a courtier urged.

“Then are you telling me it’s true? That Drakenfels has truly been unified?”

The courtier silently bowed his head. His lack of denial spoke volumes. The emperor buried his face in his hands.

“Why Drakenfels… Of all places…”

Zikardt vividly remembered the former Count of Drakenfels, Brahim—a man whose arrogance was unmatched, even daring to defy the emperor. Brahim’s defiance had haunted Zikardt to the point of nightmares.