Lord of Caldera - Chapter 376

Chapter 376: Chapter 376 It’s Over, Everything Is Over
“Still, it feels like a waste. He is the Emperor, after all. If we use him properly, we might take control of the Empire with minimal bloodshed.”

“Well, that’s true,” Toby replied, “but we’re talking about Zichard. He’s the type to whine, ‘I’m the Emperor! Bow before me!’ without understanding his position.”

“That’s the issue. Given the current situation, he should be groveling at our feet, but instead, he’s likely to spout nonsense, oblivious to reality.”

Both men sighed heavily, their frustration evident. It was the kind of exasperated sigh one might hear when dealing with someone so foolish that mutual cooperation seemed impossible.

“Well, let’s at least see him,” Sylas said. “Who knows? Maybe being imprisoned by his own child has taught him a lesson.”

“I wouldn’t count on it. People don’t change that easily.”

“And if he hasn’t changed, we’ll deal with him. It’s not like we’re at a disadvantage anymore.”

Zichard stumbled backward, retreating several steps before collapsing silently to the ground. Only now did the reality of his situation dawn on him. This was not a refuge for plotting revenge but a death trap where noncooperation would mean the end.

“Your Majesty? Why are you sitting there like that?”

“Ah!”

Zichard flinched at the voice from behind. He turned to find Max, who had disappeared earlier, now standing over him.

“Well, you see…”

“It seems your legs are giving you trouble. Understandable, given your age.”

“Y-yes! That’s it!”

Despite Max’s impertinent tone, Zichard wiped the cold sweat from his brow and forced a strained smile. With a slight tilt of his head, Max gestured toward the study.

“Now, let’s go. The Count is waiting for you.”

“Wait! Just a moment longer—!”

“Count! His Majesty has arrived!”

Ignoring Zichard’s protests, Max raised his voice to announce him. Moments later, the door opened to reveal Sylas and Toby.

Sylas had matured into a dignified young man, while Toby exuded a menacing presence at his side. Neither made any effort to hide the cold hostility radiating from them.

“Your Majesty, please, come in,” Sylas said with a nod.

“C-Count! I— I…”

Overwhelmed by confusion and fear, Zichard stammered incoherently before breaking down in tears.

“Please spare me, Count! I’ll do anything! Just let me live!”

As expected, the scene unfolded just as Sylas had anticipated. However, he had no intention of letting things end so easily. He still remembered vividly how Zichard had sent assassins to Drakenfels with the intent of killing him.

While the betrayal had inadvertently benefited him in the long run, that didn’t mean Sylas was about to let it slide without consequence.

“The Emperor seems exhausted. Escort him to his quarters,” Sylas ordered indifferently.

For the next few days, Sylas made no effort to meet with Zichard. In the meantime, the Emperor was consumed by terror, biting his fingernails incessantly.

When left in the dark, fear tends to grow exponentially. With no information, Zichard’s imagination conjured the worst possible scenarios.

“Could it be that the Count still doesn’t trust me? Does he think I’ve realized his plans and intends to eliminate me? Should I kneel before him to beg for forgiveness?”

After just three days, Zichard’s hands were in a wretched state, his fingernails reduced to stubs. Blood seeped from the tip of his thumb as his gnawing intensified.

Only then did Sylas summon him once more.

“Tell me three reasons why I should let you live, Your Majesty,” Sylas said, his tone cold and direct.

“Anything! I’ll give you anything you want! If you need justification, just say the word, and I’ll provide it! Use me! Treat me as a tool! Just let me live!”

Zichard collapsed to his knees, sobbing, all traces of his former arrogance gone. Only then did Sylas nod in satisfaction.

Soon after, Sylas issued an imperial proclamation:

“The Emperor has escaped from the clutches of the treacherous Crown Prince and sought refuge with me!”

The announcement sent shockwaves throughout the Empire. Noble houses were thrown into a frenzy. If the proclamation was true, it meant the rebellion was essentially over.

Skeptical nobles questioned the claim, as they had with previous announcements.

“Do you have proof?”

“Come see for yourselves,” Sylas replied confidently. “His Majesty will meet you in person.”

“…!”

This stark contrast to the Crown Prince’s approach stunned the nobles, prompting them to send representatives to verify the claim. Many of them had seen Zichard’s face before, during grand imperial ceremonies.

Each time a noble envoy arrived, Sylas arranged for them to meet the Emperor directly.

“Welcome, loyal subjects of the Empire,” Zichard greeted them tearfully.

“Y-Your Majesty!”

“It’s truly the Emperor!”

Overwhelmed by the sight of their Emperor, the envoys knelt. With tears in his eyes, Zichard lamented, “Though I was imprisoned by that unfilial wretch for only half a year, it feels like decades since I’ve seen you. Being rescued by the Count must surely be the work of the goddess.”

“…!”

With that one statement, Zichard definitively labeled the Crown Prince as a traitor and Sylas as a loyalist.

The neutral nobles immediately aligned themselves with Sylas. Supporting Maximilian now would be tantamount to suicide.

Even if by some miracle the rebellion were to be struck down, the Emperor’s denunciation of the Crown Prince ensured that another rebellion would inevitably follow.

Maximilian, still in the capital, understood this all too well.

“It’s over. Everything is over,” he murmured, tears streaming down his face.

“Is this all that remains?”

Maximilian’s question was met with silence. The throne hall, once bustling with court nobles, was now eerily empty. The only person still by his side was Rozier. A deep sigh escaped Maximilian’s lips.

“How pathetic.”

Maximilian muttered vacantly as he rose from the regent’s seat. Slowly, he climbed the stairs to the throne, step by step.

No one stopped him.

He collapsed into the Emperor’s throne, gazing down at the hall below.

“So, this is all there is—a slightly elevated view. Sitting on the throne doesn’t turn the world upside down.”

Rozier said nothing.

“But…”

Maximilian’s voice trailed off as he surveyed the empty surroundings.