Lord of Caldera

Sylas swallowed dryly at the unexpected proposal. Not to make him, but his knight, Rey, the heir. At first glance, it seemed like a terrible idea. Despite the lifelong contract, Rey was still Sylas's sworn knight, and the prospect of a knight surpassing their lord in rank was a potential disaster. It could lead to a broken oath and a twisted lord-knight relationship.

It was a tactic the first emperor used often.@@novelbin@@

A ruthless strategy, designed to weaken bonds between capable retainers and their lords, turning them against each other to strengthen imperial power through distrust. Yet, this was only disastrous if one key condition wasn't met.

Absolute loyalty of the knight. Your next chapter is on My Virtual Library Empire

Even if a knight rose higher in rank than their lord, as long as their loyalty remained unshakeable, dedicating all their gains to serve their lord, the proposal would transform from the worst into the best possible outcome. Sylas was confident that Rey was the kind of knight who would use everything she gained for his benefit.

"I don't know exactly what you're aiming for," the count said, "but it's safe to assume you're at least aiming above the rank of marquis. Having a powerful retainer early on wouldn't hurt, would it?"

It was a bold statement. The count, practically a ruler in the West, openly declared he would serve under Sylas's future power—a proposition that was as good as handing him the entire family on a silver platter. Sylas closed his eyes in contemplation.

It's definitely a trap, but the bait is irresistible.

Count Valdemar had a habit of belittling the other Western families, so it was odd that he would pledge loyalty to someone else, no matter their potential. There had to be some ulterior motive. Still, the count's proposal was so appealing that it was worth considering, even with potential risks.

"If Sir Rey were to accept, how would it proceed?" Sylas asked.

"If she accepts, she will immediately become my adopted daughter, and I would announce her as my heir."

"Even with the war ongoing?"

"All the more reason to hurry," the count replied. "There's always the chance something could happen to me."

Each time Sylas probed, the count made the proposal even more attractive. If he was being truthful, there was no reason to turn it down.

"All right. I'll speak to Sir Rey about it."

"Oh, would you?" The count's eyes lit up. "Of course, if she refuses, I'll understand," Sylas added, giving himself an out. Yet the count's grin remained, as if he already considered the deal done.

"I'm truly pleased with how this is going. I should give you a gift as well, Sir Sylas."

"A gift?"

"You'll see," the count said, clapping twice. Two servants entered, dragging someone along with them. Sylas's eyes widened at the sight.

It was the elven leader they had fought the day before.

But she looked entirely different now. Her rune-marked leather armor had been replaced with thin silk garments, and her wrists and ankles bore cuts, as if her tendons had been severed.

"I present this to you as a gift. How do you like it?"

"Your Excellency…!" Sylas turned to the count, feigning deep gratitude. He had heard of elves taken as slaves but had never imagined he'd actually receive one.

"I am sincerely grateful, Your Excellency! I never dreamed of such a gift."

"Haha, I didn't realize you'd be so pleased. I should have done it sooner," the count laughed, clapping Sylas on the shoulder.

"Be sure to talk to Sir Rey for me. Consider this a bribe from me," he said, grinning.

"Of course, Your Excellency!" Sylas replied, mirroring the enthusiasm.

"Ha ha ha! I've kept you long enough. Go, get some rest!"

"Indeed. I'll see you tomorrow." Sylas left the room with the elf in tow. She tried to resist, but with her tendons severed, she was powerless to do so.

As soon as Sylas disappeared from view, the count's expression turned icy.

"Tch, just another boy blinded by lust," he muttered. He felt almost embarrassed to have held him in high regard. But now that he understood Sylas's desires, he knew how to manipulate him.

Now, with that gift in hand, he won't be able to back out of the war. With this, Sylas was tied to him, a pawn to be used as the count saw fit. The count sipped his wine coldly, pleased with his work. All that remained was to prepare for the coming war.

"So… you accepted this elf as a gift?" Max asked, eyeing the elf and Sylas in disbelief. The elf glared back at him with fierce eyes, a murderous intent simmering within her gaze.

Toby laughed, impressed by her fiery spirit. "Is this really your type, my lord?" he asked, clearly amused.

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh, you know. A lady with a bit more fire than the quiet type… whoa!" Toby barely finished his sentence before stars flashed before his eyes, a wooden cup bouncing off his head. Rey, who had thrown it, muttered with a complete lack of remorse.

"Oops, my hand slipped."

"That looked pretty intentional!"

"A simple misunderstanding."

The icy tone in her voice made the men flinch. Even Sylas felt a chill, breaking into a nervous sweat.

"Is… something bothering you today?" he asked.

"Nothing at all, my lord. My mood is perfectly normal."

"Doesn't seem like it."

"You're mistaken."

At this point, Sylas decided it was better to change the subject before things got colder than they already were.

Seeing Rey's mood, Sylas decided it was best to let her be for now. Max cleared his throat, turning his attention back to the elf whose eyes still brimmed with fury.

"Was it really a good idea to accept her, my lord?" Max asked cautiously.

"Why?"

"Well, you're aware of how elves are with their kin, right? Taking her could make you a target."

The assassination attempt had been focused on the count alone, but now that Sylas had accepted an elf slave as a gift, things had changed. If word spread, the elves' wrath could easily shift toward Sylas, and any serious injury could have consequences that reached beyond him alone.