Lord of Caldera - Chapter 371

Chapter 371: Chapter 371 Declaration Of War
Six months had passed. Maximilian’s once-confident demeanor had begun to crumble. Despite the passage of time, there was no news of the rebels making any aggressive moves.

“Is that damn dragonslayer still holed up in his territory?” Maximilian demanded.

“Yes, Your Highness. He hasn’t moved an inch, nor has he raised any additional forces,” came the hesitant reply.

“Ugh.”

Maximilian furrowed his brow in frustration. He couldn’t comprehend Sylas’s strategy.

“What is he thinking? After boldly declaring rebellion, why hasn’t he made any moves?”

Rebel forces typically aimed to quickly replace the ruler and establish control, as prolonged conflict only bred discontent among their supporters. Yet Sylas did the opposite, showing no intention of leaving his lands.

“Is he preparing some kind of secret weapon? Or is he avoiding resentment from the lords along his path? Damn it, I can’t figure it out.”

Just as Maximilian was drowning in confusion, a startling report arrived one month later.

“What? The nobles in the East and West can’t pay their taxes?”

“Y-yes, Your Highness.”

Maximilian’s jaw dropped at the absurd news. Unlike the unified North under Bjorn or the South dominated by Sylas, the East and West still had some pro-Imperial nobles.

The Hernning family wielded immense wealth and controlled critical trade routes, but their influence hadn’t yet reached every corner of the West. Similarly, the Corleone family was strong but not dominant enough to suppress every other noble in the East.

These circumstances had allowed Maximilian to retain some supporters in those regions—nobles hoping to bet on the underdog and reap rewards if he emerged victorious.

“As infuriating as their opportunism was, it was better than having them turn outright hostile. But now they’re refusing to pay taxes? That’s practically the same as declaring opposition!”

Rebellion or not, withholding taxes during wartime was tantamount to rejecting any future rewards from a victorious Empire.

“What excuse are they giving?”

“They claim that their territories are under threat from the rebels, so they must focus on defense and can’t afford to send taxes without Imperial support.”

“That’s nonsense! What’s the real reason? I don’t care if it’s a rumor or speculation—just tell me!”

Maximilian’s frustrated outburst prompted the court nobles to exchange uneasy glances. Finally, one of them spoke up reluctantly.

“The rebel lords don’t pay taxes, Your Highness.”

“What?”

“Most of the Empire’s lords have either joined the rebellion or declared neutrality. Naturally, they’ve stopped sending taxes to the Crown.”

It wasn’t unusual for taxes to dry up during wartime. With resources stretched thin, the focus shifted to military expenditures rather than fiscal contributions.

However, the problem wasn’t the lack of taxes—it was the absurd peace amidst rebellion. The Crown had gone so far as to continue its routine tax collection efforts, only to be met with resistance.

“This has been the situation for half a year now, Your Highness. Loyalist lords are growing resentful that they’re the only ones still paying taxes.”

“Damn it all!”

Maximilian’s face turned pale as realization dawned. Sylas’s true strategy had finally become clear.

“He doesn’t intend to wage a grand war. He’s trying to isolate Chronoa!”

The sheer audacity of the plan left Maximilian stunned.

“How is the mage tower reconstruction progressing?” Sylas inquired.

“We’ve just secured the foundation, my lord. The designs are far more intricate than anticipated, so progress is slower than expected,” his steward reported.

“And the trade route with the West?”

“Nearly complete. The first shipments should commence within a month.”

Sylas methodically reviewed the pile of documents before him, each one concerning vast sums of money.

As he stamped his approval on each paper, he could almost hear the sound of clinking coins. A satisfied smile spread across his face.

“Good. Proceed as planned and report any issues immediately.”

“Understood. However, my lord, are you certain about this course of action?”

“What are you referring to?”

“The military, my lord. Despite the available funds, we haven’t recruited a single additional soldier beyond the standing army.”

The wealth Sylas had amassed in recent months could easily triple the size of his army. Yet he had shown no interest in expanding his forces, despite the potential threat of an Imperial offensive.

“With the resources we have, we could assemble an expeditionary force capable of marching on Chronoa tomorrow.”

“No need. Throwing troops against that impenetrable wall would be a pointless waste.”

Maintaining an army without active engagement was an expensive endeavor. Even with his newfound wealth, Sylas had no intention of pouring money into a fruitless siege.

“Use the funds for the territory’s development instead. Opportunities like this don’t come often.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“And what of the trade agreement with the North?”

“It requires a longer route through the East, but it should be operational soon.”

“That’s a relief. I was concerned we might need to provide additional support.”

“The North assures us it’s not an issue. Without taxes to pay the Crown, they have more than enough funds to manage the project.”

“Good.”

Sylas’s grin widened. It wasn’t just Bjorn or the North—most of the West and parts of the East had also ceased paying taxes the moment hostilities began.

In a typical rebellion, the rebels would bleed resources just as much as the loyalists. But in this case, the Crown’s tax revenue had dried up entirely, while Sylas’s coffers grew fatter by the day.

And as loyalist lords watched their peers grow rich by withholding taxes, resentment began to fester.

“Stay in your shell, Maximilian. While you cower behind your walls, I’ll strip away the last shreds of the Crown’s influence.”

With a smirk, Sylas gazed northward, toward Chronoa. The thousand-year-old Empire was on the brink of collapse.

When the war first began, Maximilian was patient, calmly waiting for the right moment. He had unwavering confidence that time was on his side. But that confidence had since crumbled. With each passing day, his anxiety grew, and his nails, which he had bitten down relentlessly, were now nonexistent.

“Damn it, damn it, damn it! What should I do now?” he muttered to himself.

Maximilian never even considered the possibility of the rebels not attacking. After all, rebellions traditionally only ended when the capital was seized, the emperor dethroned, and the imperial family replaced. Most importantly, the leader of any rebellion usually harbored ambitions of becoming an absolute ruler. Such a thirst for power inevitably drove them to act aggressively.