Lord of Caldera

Chapter 68

Now, watching the stunned looks on Ulrich's and Oscar's faces, Sylas felt a sense of satisfaction wash over him, as if a weight he had carried for ten years had suddenly been lifted.

Oscar, equally shocked, muttered under his breath, "H-How is this possible...?"

"That sword...!" another voice exclaimed.

At that moment, Max pushed through the crowd of bewildered knights, his fist clenched, and his eyes wide with excitement as he shook with emotion.

"I've heard about this before, but I never thought I'd see it with my own eyes while still alive!"

"What are you talking about, Max? Do you know what's going on?"

As all eyes suddenly focused on Max, Toby, with a surprised expression, added a comment to support the moment.

"That's right! I read about it in an ancient text from the East when I was part of my old organization!" Max exclaimed.

"An ancient text from the East?" someone muttered in awe, and the credibility of the story was immediately bolstered.

"Yes, this phenomenon is called 'the sword's cry!' It happens when a sword meets its true master and weeps with joy!" Max declared dramatically.

"Could it be? Has the lord been chosen by the sword?" another knight asked, astonished.

"That's exactly right!" Max confirmed.

No, you idiots! Ulrich bit his tongue, barely holding back the urge to shout. The trembling of the sword was just a reaction from heating the handle. This wasn't some mystical event!

But the knights, knowing nothing about the true nature of the sword, fully believed the tale. They began cheering in admiration.

"To think Lord Sylas was chosen by the holy sword!"

"Of course! It's Lord Sylas, after all!"

Meanwhile, the cursed sword, visibly irritated, grumbled in Sylas's mind.

—What nonsense... This is absurd...

Sylas kept his composure, though, and played along. "I can hear the sword's voice," he said, raising the drama another notch.

"The voice of the sword?!"

—Go on, explain to them... Why I'm trembling... the sword growled sarcastically.

"It's saying that it's finally found its true master and is weeping with joy!" Sylas said with a straight face.

—...What did you just say?

Taking a deep breath, Max shouted, "That... that is a phenomenon only described in ancient records!"

"Do you know what it is, Max?!" Toby once again provided the perfect prompt.

"Yes! In the hidden murals of ancient caves, written in magic!" Max fabricated yet another credible-sounding explanation.

"That is 'the Baptism of Fire!'"

"What does that mean?" someone asked.

"It's the sacred flame that purges all evil and purifies the chosen one! This is the sword's way of cleansing its master!" Max explained with an air of authority.

"That explains why Lord Sylas remains unharmed in the flames!"

"Exactly!" Max declared triumphantly, relieved that his explanation seemed to satisfy everyone.

Upon hearing this, the knights turned back to Sylas, who stood amidst the flames without a single burn or singed thread on his clothing.

"Incredible! Look at him! Not even a hair on his head is harmed!"

"I never thought I'd live to see something so miraculous!" another knight exclaimed.

—These... idiots... I swear... the cursed sword grumbled, seething with rage. Sylas, however, calmly closed his eyes and stood in the flames, his composure infuriating the sword even more.

Seeing Sylas so calm in the fire, the Count called out in concern, "Sylas, are you alright?!"

"I'm fine, Father. I can feel the purification... just like in the temple murals... or something," Sylas replied with a serene expression.

—Hey... you bastard...! the cursed sword's fury was palpable.

Sylas remained in the flames until the sword's energy was completely spent. The onlookers were utterly captivated, watching in awe as the flames died down, leaving Sylas completely unharmed, his clothing untouched by the fire.

"Wait, didn't Lord Sylas mention a temple just now? Max said something about a cave, didn't he?" one of the knights questioned, furrowing his brow.

"Does it really matter right now? What's important is that Lord Sylas has been chosen by the sword!" another knight replied, brushing off the inconsistency.

"True enough. Lord Sylas is truly extraordinary."

As the knights murmured among themselves, Ulrich and Oscar, still sitting on the floor in disbelief, stared at Sylas. How could he possibly be unharmed? By now, he should have been reduced to ashes, nothing but a memory!

What kind of magic is protecting him? Oscar thought, scrutinizing Sylas for any clue. Ulrich, equally stunned, muttered to himself.

"Could it be that the sword truly chose him?"

"Even you, my lord? Please!" Oscar groaned, exasperated by the growing confusion.