Lord of Caldera

Chapter 216

"Not bad."

"It's fine quality."

"As expected, since it comes from the prosperous Empire."

Was that a jab? Bjorn looked at Ragnar without comment, but Ragnar's face remained impassive, as if he hadn't meant anything by it.

After a short silence, Ragnar emptied his glass and finally spoke.

"Why did you save me?"

"Save you?"

"You pushed me out of the way when the dragon was about to breathe fire."

"Would you rather I hadn't?"

Ragnar fell silent, unable to respond. Bjorn refilled both their glasses, then continued.

"If I hadn't saved you, what would have happened?"

"..."

"You'd have died, and your warriors would have been decimated. The rest of us would have had to face the dragons with a fractured force. Even imagining it is grim."

"If I'd survived just that moment, things would have been easier afterward," Ragnar said, the underlying truth slipping out.

"If I'd died, the only remaining candidates would have been you and Rogain. Rogain is an excellent lieutenant and warrior, but he's not suited to lead."

The tribes were united solely because of Ragnar's force of will. Without him, the tribes would almost certainly descend into infighting, and Rogain would lose his position as their representative. That would leave Bjorn as the sole candidate.

"As much as I hate to admit it, you have the qualities of a king," Ragnar continued. "Even if you were elected by default, the northern nobles would have little reason to oppose you."

Bjorn chuckled. "You have a high opinion of me."

"Don't brush this off with laughter," Ragnar said sharply, his eyes piercing.

"Why did you save me? In that situation, no one would have blamed you for letting me die. It was the perfect opportunity to remove me."

The two men's eyes met in silence. After a moment, Bjorn sighed, surrendering to Ragnar's intense stare.

"It's complicated."

"What?"

"You're overthinking things," Bjorn said, his tone almost weary.

Ragnar closed his eyes. His decision had been practical, but how must that soldier have felt hearing those words? Would he have wanted to follow such a king?

After a prolonged silence, Ragnar spoke, his voice heavy.

"...Thank you for the drink."

"Leaving so soon?"

"I heard what I came to hear."

"Safe travels."

With Bjorn's farewell, Ragnar left the room, his shoulders weighed down as if burdened by an invisible load.

Viscount Thorbern had left, reluctantly accepting Sylas's decision, but one noble after another came to Sylas's door in an attempt to sway him.

"Lord Sylas, please reconsider!"

"There's no one else suited to take the throne!"

"As a bastard, you won't be head of your house anyway, so..."

"Shh! Watch your words!"

Nobles gathered around Sylas, some hoping to secure favor through him, others genuinely believing he was the best candidate for the throne. With the representatives present, nearly half of the northern nobles could be counted as Sylas's supporters. But Sylas's answer remained unwavering.

"I'm sorry, but I have no intention of becoming king."

"What is your reason?" one noble pressed.

"Well, if you must know, I was born in the East, and there are other reasons as well..." Sylas's explanation left the nobles speechless. He had joined the competition because of his northern bloodline, and now he was citing his eastern heritage as a reason to withdraw?

Though frustrated, they finally gave up. If Sylas himself was stepping down, what could they do?

"Let's proceed with the vote then."

"That's the only choice we have. With Lord Sylas's intentions so clear, we have no other option."

The nobles sighed, caught off guard by the sudden turn of events, but prepared to move forward. As expected, Sylas's withdrawal threw the northern populace into confusion.

"What do you mean Lord Sylas isn't running for king?!"

"Is this some kind of political game?"

"No, he really stepped down!"

No matter how passionately the nobles explained, the people refused to believe it. Eventually, they had to ask Sylas himself to address the crowd.