Lord of Caldera

「Is there a problem? Would you rather go to war? Would you dare face this army?」 the count bellowed, gesturing to the five banners, rows of knights, and countless soldiers behind him. The sight seemed to unnerve the elven noble; even if elven warriors could each take down ten humans, the numbers here were overwhelming. A battle would mean devastating losses, even with hostages.

Seeing the noble's silence, the count's smile grew wider.

「Next time, bring three times as many artifacts!」

「What?! I already told you we're on the verge of collapse…!」

「And that's my problem? If you don't, I'll make an example out of one of them!」

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It was nearly a final ultimatum. If the elves continued to refuse, the count implied, he would start publicly executing prisoners. The noble's face paled, realizing how far the count was willing to go. The count turned with a smug expression.

"Your Excellency, how did the negotiations go?" one of his subordinates asked.

"They'll try to gather more by next time. They understand they don't stand a chance against these numbers."

"Oh, splendid! As expected from Your Excellency!"

The young nobles cheered at the count's convincing lie. To them, it sounded like the best possible outcome.

"Now, let's return and toast to our success—"

「My son! I ask you now, do you fear death?」

The elf noble's shout cut through the air.

"What… what's he saying?" the soldiers muttered, puzzled, while the count's face twisted in confusion and anger.

「What are you doing?!」 the count snapped.

The elven noble ignored him, his voice unyielding as he addressed his son.

「Answer me, truthfully. Are you afraid of death?」

Inside the iron cage, the elven captive glanced briefly at Eldira. Then, after a moment's hesitation, he took a deep breath and answered.

「Fear is for the weak! Why would you ask me such a thing?」

His voice, hoarse from his captivity, rang clearly enough for all to hear.

「I, Imras, son of Tigryon, do not fear death! Especially not if it serves the good of our people!」

"Shut up! Silence!" the count shouted, kicking the cage with a loud clang, but the words had already been spoken. Tigryon's eyes narrowed in resolution.

「Forgive me, my lord.」

No sooner had he spoken than the forest around them began to tremble with the approach of an army. The vibrations were the kind usually felt only when vast numbers of soldiers moved as one. Moments later, elven warriors began emerging from the shadows.

"More elves! And they're in armor!" a soldier cried.

The elves' numbers nearly matched those of the human army, and their armament was unlike anything the humans had ever seen. Their armor was as fine as that of any high noble's knights, and their weapons gleamed with deadly sharpness. The sight of this well-organized elven force moving as one struck terror into the humans' hearts.

「You have a brave son, Tigryon,」 came a voice from the ranks of elves, as a man astride a white horse approached. Though his youthful appearance belied his age, there was an unmistakable air of authority about him.

「Your Grace.」 Tigryon bowed respectfully.

「The grand duke?!」 the count stammered, stumbling back in shock. The elven grand duke, effectively the king of all the elves in the western region, stood before them — none other than Arathion, Eldira's father, known as the Duke of Swords. His gaze was icy as he regarded the count.

"You scurried about my land like a rat," Arathion remarked coldly.

"W-What…?" The soldiers and commanders flinched, startled to hear such fluent Imperial language from an elf — especially one of the grand duke's stature. The count, however, was the most taken aback of all.

Arathion's gaze moved slowly across the gathering, unwavering and unperturbed by the human army.

"Even with this army, you resort to taking hostages. Is there no end to the wretched nature of humankind?"

"N-no...!"

"Do you have anything to explain? Speak."

The color drained from the count's face, but not due to the sneer. The use of the Empire's language meant that now everyone could hear the conversation. There was no longer an option to use the lack of communication as a weapon. The only remaining choice was to attack directly without further discussion.

'But that would mean our total annihilation...!' The count analyzed the forces before him. The enemy was an elite unit, personally led by the Grand Duke himself, and comprised of Central Army elves of unparalleled strength, armed with top-quality equipment. Even if they fought with the castle walls as protection, the odds of losing were high. To engage in open battle would be tantamount to suicide.

'Should I use the hostage?' The count cast a glance toward Imras, imprisoned in the iron cell. However, based on the recent exchange, it was unlikely to work. While they might show concern for the hostage's safety, it was clear they would abandon caution and attack if the situation turned against them.

The Grand Duke observed the hesitating count with cold eyes and spoke. "If you have nothing further to say, then enough. We'll capture you and exchange you for all the hostages. Army, forward!"

At the Grand Duke's signal, the elf army formed a charging line, prepared for a decisive strike. Just as the tension reached its peak, with the Grand Duke about to give the final command, a voice cut through the air.

"Stop!" Sylas leaped forward.

'The Grand Duke Arathion!' Sylas's eyes widened as he looked at the Grand Duke. His companions around him were shocked, but to Sylas, it was an ideal scenario. Turning to face his retainers, he met their eyes. Since they had discussed the situation the day before, no one appeared surprised. Sylas's gaze then shifted to Rey.@@novelbin@@

'Take care of things in my absence.'

'Yes, my lord. Stay safe.'

With a brief exchange of glances, Sylas spurred his horse forward. Eldira, clinging to his back, muttered in astonishment, "I can't believe Father is actually here!"

"Be surprised later. Remember our conversation yesterday?"

"Even though deceiving my father isn't my preference, I suppose we have no choice."