Dani reluctantly spoke with formal respect. For the legitimate son to defer to the illegitimate one—it was a feeling akin to his insides being torn apart. However, the fear of retribution was greater than his sense of humiliation. As Dani endured his quiet suffering, Ulrich sighed repeatedly in his room.
"It's all over! Everything is finished!"
Ulrich, who rarely drank to excess, had been indulging in wine excessively over the past few days, hoping that even temporary intoxication would help him forget reality. But no matter how much he drank, he couldn't escape the relentless clarity that returned him to a despairing reality.
"A ti of chaos? Hope? That bastard's already taken it all!"
Ulrich, whose foresight was often called genius, understood the reaction people would have to Sylas's strength the mont he saw it. He knew how deeply those who were captivated by such power would commit themselves.
"The Order, the West, the North, even the Elves! What are we supposed to do against soone who's claid all of them?"
The Empire had lost the loyalty of its lords. Despite this, the crown prince still harbored ambitions of absolute power. With a change in emperor, unreasonable commands would certainly provoke resentnt. Ulrich expected that the lords would rise in unison against such orders, heralding an era of true regional powers. He was still convinced it would happen.
The issue was the strength of the factions that would erge in such a ti of chaos.
"Who would challenge the strongest from the start? There has to be at least a needle's gap to ignite the will to fight!"
At the very least, it would require the alliance of the great lords to stand against him. This was beyond reason. Once the chaos began, it wouldn't be surprising if everything ended within three months.
"No, no. There's still a chance," Ulrich muttered, his eyes wide with desperation. It was too early to give up. Although allies surrounded Sylas, he still hadn't established a personal faction.
"If he doesn't establish his own faction, he'll be used as a re chess piece. With his character, he won't be satisfied with that. So, there's still a chance!"
With these thoughts, Ulrich found so semblance of relief. It wasn't entirely hopeless; there was a sliver of opportunity, as narrow as a needle's eye, but a chance nonetheless. Ulrich decided to seize it, clinging to this last shred of hope.
Sylas gazed out the window, savoring his tea. The atmosphere inside, where his vassals sat leisurely, felt entirely isolated from the bustling activity outside.
"Everyone's running around busily," he observed.
"They're in the midst of preparing for the festival," replied Max as he poured Sylas's tea.
"Still, it seems unusually busy for a festival."
"That depends on its scale, doesn't it?"
Max, who was originally supposed to be outside doing manual labor, now served tea comfortably as one of Sylas's closest aides.
"I heard they're planning the grandest festival in history," Max comnted.
"He's incredibly frugal for a noble," Sylas mused.
"Isn't it because of you, my lord? You're saying this as if you don't know?"
"In situations like this, it's courteous for the person involved to pretend not to notice."
With a natural expression, Sylas sank into the sofa, looking entirely at ease. Toby, observing this, blinked in surprise.
"Was it necessary to provoke suspicion? Things would have been simpler if you'd shown your strength from the beginning."
"There was a reason. If I'd shown it from the start, there wouldn't have been a festival of this scale," Sylas replied.
Though he felt a bit sorry for the count, this was all part of Sylas's calculation. If the count suspected an innocent person, his personality would compel him to publicly clear their na, especially considering how deeply he had doubted Sylas. The count would eagerly publicize the truth.
"Couldn't you have simply cleared things up yourself? You can prove everything."
"That would take too long. I can't go everywhere and explain it myself."
Even if the Count announced it, would anything really change?"
"Of course it would. Don't you understand yet how reputable my father is?"
The weight of a statent changes depending on who says it. Although Sylas had achieved great feats, he was still a young, unproven figure. On the other hand, Count Bill was a noble renowned as the embodint of chivalry. Among the nobles, he was known as a figure of fairness and righteousness, almost seen as a relic of a bygone era.
"My father would never fabricate anything, not even for his son. For soone like him to verify my accomplishnts would lend enormous credibility to the rumors."
"So, you're saying that it's better for His Excellency to boast about you than for you to do it yourself?"
"Not better, just more convenient. Most people will believe it without having to prove it."
It was a matter of efficiency and speed. Rather than spending days convincing thousands, it was better to convince half a million in a day. And with Count Bill's reputation, it wasn't just half—it was likely that 80% would believe it.
"In any case, everything went as planned. I feel a bit sorry for my father, though."
"He wouldn't have believed it unless you proved it yourself."
Though the process was manipulated, the outco would likely have been the sa. Ray's words offered so comfort, and Sylas smiled.
"Thanks for saying that. Anyway, we've put out the imdiate fire, so let's just enjoy the festival."
"Does that an we get to rest for a while?" Toby asked, a hint of anticipation on his face.
"Why? Do you miss having ti off?"
"I enjoyed traveling with you, my lord, but, to be honest, this past year has been incredibly busy. Who else could manage to shake up both the western and northern regions in just a year?"
"Well, I could."
"Not everyone in the world is a superhuman like you."
Sylas chuckled, hearing soone like Toby, who used to seem like a superhuman, calling him one now.
"I'd like to rest if I could, but that's unlikely."
"You say that as if sothing's going to happen."
"Sothing will happen."
"What?"
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"My reputation has beco too prominent."
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