Lord of Caldera

Chapter 115

At the count's words, everyone wore a bewildered expression. The Demon Slayer of Baltor? What was he talking about?

Sylas calmly acknowledged the count's statement.

"If you're referring to my role in aiding the saint in Baltor, then yes, that was me."

"Well! So, it's true...!" exclaimed the count in admiration, his eyes once again sweeping over Sylas. If earlier he looked as though he were inspecting a product, this time, he seemed to be examining a verified treasure.

Unable to hold back his curiosity, Damian finally spoke up.

"Your Excellency, if I may, could you explain this to us? The Demon Slayer of Baltor... I've never heard that title before."

Leon, along with the heirs of the other three families, nodded as well. Even Leon hadn't heard of Sylas's past exploits.

The count looked around at the young nobles and said, "You mean to tell me you've never heard? Two demons appeared in the eastern Corleone estate, and both were slain."

"Is that true?" one of them asked, astonished.

"It is. The empire was buzzing about it for a while. I heard that one of the demons was beheaded by the head of the Corleone family himself, and the other was eliminated by his son..." The count's gaze turned back to Sylas, who nodded with a humble smile.

"It wasn't solely by my strength. I had the saint's help, as well as that of my loyal retainers."

"Remarkable retainers indeed. Yes, I heard a bard's song about them—heroes known as the Storm Knight and the Flame Knight."

"They are knights far too esteemed for me," Sylas replied humbly.

Pleased with Sylas's answer, the count's lips curled up, though he tried to suppress his joy.

"So, you've come as an ally of the Winslow family?"

"My knight, known as the Flame Knight, is from the Winslow family."

At this, Stefan scowled.

"Damn it! Walter, don't you have any pride? Eating so cheerfully like that."

"What would you have me do? Tip over the tables?"

"No, you fool. Strip off that fraud's pretense and open His Excellency's eyes!"

Scowling, Stefan glared at Sylas, who was seated beside the count, accepting a cup of wine. Watching him so close to the count, practically at the head of the table, Stefan gritted his teeth.

"Surely, His Excellency must be mistaken, or perhaps the brat tricked him."

"Right! There's no way a sixteen-year-old could be a Demon Slayer," they muttered to each other as they exchanged glances and rose from their seats. To them, Sylas was merely a boy who'd earned a name by luck. A bit of questioning would reveal his true nature, and then the count would realize and treat him as he deserved.

"Your Excellency, may I have a word...?"

-Aaaah!

Just as Damian began to speak, a scream pierced the night from nearby. The count scowled, and a messenger came running from a distance, panting.

"Y-Your Excellency! There's an emergency!"

"What is it?" the count demanded.

"Elves! Elves have breached the perimeter!"

"What!?" The count jumped to his feet in shock. Elves? Weren't they supposed to be lurking in the forests? How had they gotten here?

The soldiers were already stirring when they heard another noise.

Shing, shing, shing.

"Elves!" a soldier shouted in terror, spotting shadowy figures entering the courtyard. The twenty figures were, as the soldier said, elves.