Lord of Caldera

Bjorn's face paled, and he shook with frustration. Left with no other choice, he opted for an extension yet again. And it continued in the same way.

"This time, I'll…"

Smack!

"Argh!"

Once again, Bjorn was beaten down, only to be given the same options. Day after day, for an entire week, this repeated. Bjorn's body was soon covered in bruises, his face swollen almost beyond recognition.

"Exten…" Bjorn mumbled, his swollen lips barely able to form the words, as Sylas clicked his tongue in disapproval. Day after day, Bjorn challenged him again, no matter how injured he was.

Sylas could tell that Bjorn knew he couldn't win. But he was stubborn, refusing to back down. Bjorn's unwavering pride, that relentless stubbornness, reminded Sylas of an old friend.

"I was a fool, Captain."

"I know."

"So, I'll leave it all to you."

A bitter taste filled Sylas's mouth. That pride was Bjorn's downfall, and when he finally recognized it as empty, he broke completely.

"Let the Captain decide everything. I'll just follow."

Sylas's friend had been absurdly stubborn. During battle, he made brilliant calls, yet never took command. No matter how foolish the orders, he'd follow them without question, living a life resigned to letting others make decisions.

"I'm not fit to make decisions."

So, he had despised himself that much. Hated himself for once being proud of his misguided choices, even to the point of burying all his latent talents as a ruler under the weight of self-loathing.

"Exten…sion…" Bjorn slurred again. Despite the beatings, his pride was still alive. Sylas couldn't help but smirk.

"Let's postpone it for a day."@@novelbin@@

"W-What?"

"Not feeling quite up to it today," Sylas replied, looking Bjorn up and down.

"Well… if that's the case…" Bjorn muttered, almost relieved. He wasn't glad for a day of rest, but rather, he seemed disappointed that he'd have to wait longer for the duel.

"If you weren't satisfied with the past you chose, then I'll fix it for you." Sylas resolved. Whether Bjorn liked it or not, Sylas would break that old pride until he finally understood.

That night, Sylas's group received an unexpected visitor.

"Good evening. My name is Marius Greve," the man announced. Sylas looked up to see the well-dressed man standing before him. He'd heard of this man, a representative of Baron Greve. Judging by his appearance, he seemed more of a bureaucrat than a nobleman. Something about him immediately rubbed Sylas the wrong way, and his tone came out rougher than intended.

"I'm Sylas Corleone."

"Ahem, that's quite an informal way to speak," Marius commented, his tone dripping with condescension.

"If it bothers you, feel free to speak informally too," Sylas replied, tilting his head defiantly.

"As if a nobleman with manners would do such a thing," Marius muttered, avoiding Sylas's gaze as he subtly elevated himself and belittled Sylas.

This guy was clearly used to talking down to people like this.

"Anyway, what do you want?" Sylas asked impatiently. "Skip the long-winded formalities."

"If that's what you wish." Marius sighed before leaning in close and whispering, "Would you be willing to kill Bjorn in your duel tomorrow?"

Sylas narrowed his eyes, studying Marius with a look of skepticism. "What exactly are you saying?"

"Hm, perhaps I didn't explain well enough." Marius shrugged and sat down confidently, as if he had everything under control.

"How much did that man tell you?" he asked.

"Only that he lost his position as heir to his uncle and was exiled here," Sylas replied.

"Lost his position? Hardly! It was a rightful succession," Marius insisted, trying to launch into a long-winded explanation.

"The point," Sylas interrupted.

Marius cast an annoyed glance at Sylas, then sighed and got to the matter. "The viscount wishes for that man's… removal."

"You're referring to Bjorn's uncle, I take it?"

"Of course. Who else?"

"And why now? Why let things be for so long and only act now?"

"The viscount… had no choice," Marius explained. While the uncle had managed to claim the title, Bjorn still had a number of loyal supporters, possibly even more than the viscount himself. His uncle's hold on the title was due primarily to his strength, and Bjorn's compliance in relinquishing his position.

"In other words, if Bjorn were to change his mind, a civil war would break out. Quite a frightening thought, don't you agree?" Experience more content on My Virtual Library Empire

"Indeed."

"'Indeed'? That's all you have to say about a potential civil war?" Marius's tone carried a hint of reproach, as if wondering why Sylas seemed so indifferent to the potential for bloodshed. Sylas smirked.

"Someone so concerned about a civil war sure knows how to provoke one. If you're that worried, you'd think keeping him pacified would be more effective," Sylas replied dryly.

"Ahem!" Marius coughed, averting his gaze. He couldn't exactly admit that they had been trying to provoke Bjorn into rebellion to find an excuse to remove him.

"Anyway, I'm here to ask for your cooperation in preventing a civil war," Marius continued, regaining his composure.

"In other words, you want me to kill Bjorn under the pretense of a duel?"

"Not pretense! It's a legitimate duel, fair and square!" Marius insisted, emphasizing "legitimate" as if that single word would cleanse the entire scheme of its underhandedness.

Sylas pretended to consider it for a moment, then asked, "And if I refuse?"

"That wouldn't be wise."

"Is that a threat? Against a Corleone?"

"No matter how fierce a dragon may be, it's helpless if it can't leave its lair," Marius replied, smirking. "This is the edge of the North. Do you have any idea how many territories you'd need to cross to return east? That includes the lands of Marquis Hermod."

Naturally, no lord welcomed an army marching through their lands without good reason. Especially a powerful marquis.

"And we don't have to harm you directly. I could simply spread some… unsavory rumors," Marius continued.

"Rumors?"

"Like how a knight-in-training was seen looting villages, or cozying up with barbarians. I can be creative," he sneered. It was a petty but effective threat. The purpose of a knightly journey was to earn honor, and once that reputation was tarnished, all that effort would be in vain.