Lord of Caldera

With preparations complete, the Count awaited the following day. At dawn, the elves' army appeared in front of the castle. Enjoy more content from My Virtual Library Empire

"Incredible. Are they covered head-to-toe in magical gear?"

"Damn, I feel like we'd lose even with the castle walls."

"Shh, don't jinx it."

The murmuring soldiers made the Count uneasy. Though he had seen the army yesterday, he felt a new chill at the sight. It seemed even the fortress's double walls and deep moat wouldn't be enough.

"Perhaps my choice was the right one," he thought, swallowing hard as he advanced to the walls with his two guards. From the elven side, the Duke arrived with two elven guards of his own. The two leaders rode to the center, their armies pulled back.

"Does this mean you've accepted the negotiation?" the Duke asked.

"Yes."

"Good. Then let's start with the hostage exchange."

"Wait, before that…"

"Don't try any tricks, human. I haven't forgotten what you did to my daughter."

The Duke's icy words made the Count break out in a cold sweat. The Count himself had severed the princess's tongue and crippled her limbs. If he hesitated now, the Duke's remaining patience might run out.

"Yes, I understand."

"Fine, we'll release our hostage first. You release the elves you captured."

At his signal, the Count's soldiers brought seven elves out from the castle. Though they looked frail from poor nutrition, they were otherwise unharmed. In turn, the Duke presented Sylas. The two parties exchanged hostages, each side's captives walking toward the other.

Instead of entering through the castle gate, Sylas approached the Count directly.

"My lord."

"Well done."

"Oh, it was nothing."

With a chuckle, Sylas greeted his two retainers warmly. The Count frowned as he looked at Sylas.

"Sir Sylas, why did you come here?"

"Is there any reason I shouldn't?"

"Why not return to the safety of the castle? This is a negotiation site."

"Don't mind me. I'm just here to watch."

"Don't be ridiculous…" The Count halted, sensing something off. Sylas's usual courteous demeanor was gone, replaced by an air of finality as if he had no more business with the Count. Shaking off the strange feeling, the Count cleared his throat.

"Ahem, just observe quietly. I'm the decision-maker here."

"Of course."

Sylas nodded with a smile. The Count turned back to the Duke and resumed the negotiation.

"Let's begin, shall we?"

"Very well. Our demands are simple."

As the two spoke, Sylas moved behind the Count, flanked by Rey and Toby. Among them, none were loyal to the Count. Though the Count vaguely sensed this, he deliberately ignored it, convincing himself that nothing would happen until the negotiation concluded.

The Count's anxiety soon faded, only to be replaced by astonishment as the negotiations proceeded. Hearing the terms, he muttered in disbelief.

"Is this really the proposal for negotiation?"

"Is it not to your liking?" the Duke asked.

"No! Absolutely not!" The Count quickly shook his head under the Duke's piercing gaze. Not to his liking? Quite the opposite. This was the best possible outcome he could have hoped for in this situation.

"Giving up a portion of the forest infested with monsters in exchange for trade…"

With trembling eyes, the Count gazed at the treaty the elves had offered. The terms were as the Duke had stated. Due to the unfortunate events, the Count would relinquish a portion of his territory. In return, he would not have to return the magical artifacts he had taken.

Since this incident was the result of a lack of communication, the Count and the Duke would establish an official trade route to prevent future misunderstandings.

"This is better than the magical technology I initially wanted."

Even if he gained access to magical technology, it would take ages to fully acquire. By the time the Count could produce anything substantial, it would likely be limited to crude replicas. Still, he had initially wanted this technology for its potential to generate continuous profit.

But if he could trade formally, earning multiple times more through intermediary trade would be far better than struggling to produce subpar magical items.

"Ahem, not bad at all. I don't believe there's anything more to add."

"Then let's sign here and declare the agreement."

"Let's do that."

The Count forced a composed tone as he responded. After exchanging signed agreements, the Duke raised his voice.

"Here and now, a pact is made between me, Duke Arathion, and Valdemar Herning, Lord of the humans. All here shall be witnesses to this oath!"

His voice echoed throughout the entire castle wall, loud enough for everyone from the commanders atop the walls to the soldiers waiting below to hear.

As everyone listened intently, the Duke recited the terms of the agreement one by one.

"…Since this matter stemmed from a lack of communication, both sides shall establish trade routes to prevent a recurrence of such events! I, Duke Arathion, agree to this!"

The Duke paused and looked at the Count, who turned to face the wall and shouted.

"I, Valdemar Herning, agree to this! From this moment, we swear to uphold the agreement between us!"

Unlike the quiet elves, cheers erupted from within the castle. They had thought they were as good as dead, but everything had ended far better than expected.

For the noble families and the Count, this was an ideal outcome. The Count, smiling contentedly, was about to turn and head back when the Duke spoke again.

"One more matter remains to be settled before we part!"

"…?"

The Count blinked and looked back. What? Wasn't the agreement already concluded?

"Beyond the matters of the two races, I speak now as an individual elf! I, Arathion, challenge Valdemar Herning to a duel!"

"…!"

The Count's eyes widened at the unexpected declaration.

He had sensed something was off. What the Count had done was something that would make even the elves want to tear him to shreds.

He had kidnapped and taken hostages, nearly bankrupted the elves for magical artifacts, and mutilated the princess by severing her tongue and tendons, turning her into a slave. If no resentment remained, it would be a lie. The Count gritted his teeth as he looked at the Duke.

"Damn it. I underestimated him."@@novelbin@@