Lord of Caldera - Chapter 368

Chapter 368: Chapter 368 Not Coming, No Excuse, No Pretense
“Ray Hernig has returned?!”

“Yes, Your Highness,” a courtier confirmed.

“Damn it! That woman, who abandoned her estate to follow the dragonslayer, has decided to come back now?!”

Maximilian clutched his hair in frustration. The western territories had been the only region where he saw a potential opportunity. And now, of all times, she had returned.

“I’ll still try to probe for weaknesses, but with her back, I won’t get much out of it. Damn it all!”

When forced to choose, minor lords would always align with the closer source of power. A nearby authority meant proximity to both fists and gold. With Ray’s presence, the western nobles would rally around her, leaving Maximilian at a disadvantage.

“What should I do now? Fight while leaving his alliances intact? Surrounded on all sides, east, west, north, and south?”

Some staunchly loyal nobles might still back the Imperial family, while others resistant to change might oppose Sylas. However, Maximilian doubted they would be enough to shift the tide.

Ambitious individuals typically sought opportunities over stability, especially when the odds seemed favorable.

“There’s no other way. I’ll have to use my last resort.”

This was a strategy Maximilian had avoided out of concern for the Imperial family’s dignity. But with no alternatives, he had no choice.

Maximilian sprang to his feet and shouted, “Listen! I’ve long thought that Count Sylas’s accomplishments far exceed his title. I propose we elevate him to the rank of duke. What say you?”

“…!?”

The court nobles were stunned. Granting Sylas the title of duke in this situation? They exchanged baffled glances.

While most were still trying to comprehend the suggestion, Rogier immediately understood and bowed.

“A truly wise decision, Your Highness! However, as His Majesty is too unwell to draft the official decree, it would be best to summon Count Sylas to the Imperial Court to formalize the promotion.”

“That is my intention!”

The court nobles shivered, finally grasping Maximilian’s plan.

“He intends to summon the dragonslayer to the capital and assassinate him!”

“Unbelievable! The Crown Prince would violate the sacred traditions of hospitality to do this?”

Even as their expressions hardened, Maximilian turned away, resolute. There was no room for honor or dignity now.

He couldn’t afford to let rebellion erupt unchecked in the capital. And his plan had a high chance of success.

“Sylas has always used his enemies’ schemes against them, dismantling them mid-execution. His overconfidence will lead him to accept this invitation.”

Maximilian expected Sylas to attempt some political maneuver, perhaps escaping with the title while dodging any traps. But that approach relied on decorum and political norms—things Maximilian had already cast aside.

Most importantly, Maximilian had a weapon capable of killing Sylas.

“The Imperial artifact. It stores sunlight for a year, releasing a concentrated beam that can pierce even a dragon’s scales. Its range is only five paces, and it lasts mere seconds, but a direct hit will suffice.”

Compact enough to hide within a sword hilt, the artifact would deliver a killing blow before Sylas could react.

“Come, Sylas. Your arrogance, believing you can control everything, will be your downfall.”

With a cold smile, Maximilian sent word of Sylas’s promotion and invitation to the Imperial Court.

Shortly after, a reply arrived from Sylas. Smirking, Maximilian unfolded the letter.

It contained a single, blunt word:

“Not coming.”

Maximilian froze in place, utterly speechless.

“There’s no way I’d head to the capital. Especially when there’s nothing left to gain,” Sylas muttered, smirking as he lounged in Drakenfels’ manor. The Crown Prince’s offer to grant him a dukedom in exchange for his appearance? Ridiculous.

Sylas’s power already surpassed that of any duke. Accepting a hollow title would change nothing except for how people addressed him.

“Besides, I know very little about the capital, Chronoa,” he mused.

Sylas’s confidence in navigating the Empire stemmed from his extensive knowledge of its inner workings—knowledge from his previous life. He knew the secrets, weaknesses, and tendencies of its lords and ministers. But the Imperial Palace and the capital were a different matter entirely.

“A fortress brimming with magical artifacts, unmatched technological advancement, and relics secretly amassed by the royal family. It wouldn’t be surprising if they had something capable of killing me.”

Though it likely wasn’t a devastating weapon—such a device would have already been used—smaller, more targeted tools of destruction, like deadly poisons, modern firearms, or cursed scrolls, might exist.

“And they expect me to show up alone without a guard? What a joke.”

Sylas flicked away the Crown Prince’s letter and penned a curt reply:

“Not coming.”

With war now inevitable, Sylas saw no reason to maintain appearances. If the Crown Prince wanted a confrontation, he could bring it to Drakenfels. Sylas smirked, eager to see Maximilian’s reaction.

“You bastard…!”

Maximilian trembled with rage, his eyes bloodshot as he tore Sylas’s letter to shreds. He had expected rebellion. He knew Sylas lacked loyalty to the throne.

But Maximilian was still the Crown Prince. Despite the Empire’s waning respect for the monarchy, he believed he deserved basic decorum.

“Not coming? No excuse, no pretense of respect—just ‘not coming’?”

Fuming, Maximilian’s thoughts spiraled. Sylas’s contempt was clear: he viewed the Crown Prince not as royalty, but merely as a fortunate man who happened to be born into privilege.

The sheer audacity was an unbearable insult.

“A bastard born of low blood—he dares to disrespect the sanctity of royal lineage!”

If Sylas believed that, Maximilian would show him otherwise. He would demonstrate the strength of the Imperial lineage and crush Sylas’s fleeting power.

“Sylas Drakenfels refuses to accept the Crown’s generosity and gives no explanation. Inform him that if he does not present himself at the Imperial Court immediately, he will be declared a traitor!”

“Your Highness!”

“Silence! This is an order as the Emperor’s proxy—a royal decree!”

Ignoring the frantic protests of his advisors, Maximilian issued the declaration.

“Sylas Drakenfels is hereby declared a traitor!”

The royal edict spread quickly across the Empire, sending shockwaves through its noble circles.

The tension between Sylas and the Crown Prince was well known, but few had expected it to escalate to such a dramatic proclamation.