Though surprising, it wasn't unheard of. So people couldn't bring themselves to bow to a massively successful acquaintance, so they tried to maintain a casual relationship. Most of these attempts ended in utter failure.
No matter how close the bond, no ruler would tolerate a challenge to their authority.
"Bjorn won't let this slide. This could escalate into a fight right here."
"I'm doing well. Being king has its perks, you know. Plenty of respect and privileges," Bjorn said with a calm smile.
"Really? Makes wonder if I should've just taken the throne myself," Sylas replied, smirking.
"The ship has sailed. You should've acted faster," Bjorn teased.
"...!?"
The nobles, watching the exchange with bated breath, were left slack-jawed. The conflict they had anticipated didn't even begin to materialize. Instead, Bjorn seed entirely at ease with Sylas's casual tone.
"Any trouble on your end?" Sylas asked.
"Honestly, I've already dealt with most of the hard parts. Now it's just cleanup."
"That's great. Let know if anyone gives you grief—I'll co knock so sense into them."
"If anything, I've been the one dishing out the trouble lately," Bjorn replied with a chuckle.
The two shared a laugh, their conversation shifting to reminiscing about Sylas's ti in the North and trivial matters.
The content of their exchange wasn't what mattered, though. The dynamic between them—seemingly reversing the roles of subordinate and superior—left everyone baffled.
"I'll see you again soon. Make so ti for ," Sylas said.
"You'll have to catch when you can. Even I'm a busy man now," Bjorn replied, waving as he turned to leave.
The nobles stood in stunned silence, processing the sight of Bjorn treating Sylas as an equal—if not a superior.
As the shock settled, another figure approached Sylas. The crowd collectively recoiled when they recognized the newcor.
"The Elven Grand Duke, Arathion!"
The presence of soone even more prominent than Bjorn silenced the hall entirely.
Since the opening of trade with the elves, rumors about the West had spread far and wide. That the elves, long isolationist, had initiated contact was astonishing enough.
But what truly caught the nobles' attention wasn't the circumstances of the trade—it was the fortune the West was accumulating as a result.
"What? The value of goods fluctuates so wildly it's like they're buying castles by the dozen every day?"
"Even if enchanted items are rare, that's absurd!"
"It's true! And these reports are already conservative!"
Lords from regions far from the West could scarcely believe it. The West was a cursed land overrun with monsters, slow to develop due to its harsh conditions.
And yet, it now sat atop a mountain of gold, thanks to trade.
"Who would even travel there for auctions? The constant threat of monster attacks would make the journey impossible without a small army of escorts."
"The West is practically devoid of monsters now."
"Nonsense! That region is practically a haven for monsters!"
"Apparently, the influx of nobles has thinned them out. The rcenaries hired as escorts have been killing every monster they see to earn their keep."
"...!?"
The unintended consequences created a domino effect. Trade routes, once dormant, were revitalized, and even unrelated lords along the middle routes found themselves drenched in gold.
The transformation of the West drove the Empire's lords to envy. They quickly realized that the ripple effects of opening trade routes were as profitable as the trade itself.
"Even leftover goods would be fine! We need to establish trade with the elves, no matter the cost!"
"Send a letter to the Herning family! Tell them we're willing to pay anything!"
"Reach out to the other families too! Is there no way to secure even a fraction of the profits?"
But all these attempts ended in failure. The West, already reaping the benefits of its monopoly, wasn't about to share its spoils.
This left only one option: negotiating directly with the elves. Unfortunately, this was virtually impossible.
"How would we even et the elves? We can't just show up in the West uninvited."
"All potential contacts are families already tied to the trade. They'd sooner slam the door in our faces than arrange a eting."
"Our only chance is during an elven delegation to the Empire. But when would that ever happen?"
Thus, many lords had nearly given up hope of establishing trade routes.
And yet, here was the Elven Grand Duke himself, present in the Empire.
This unexpected developnt left everyone scrambling for an opportunity to speak with Arathion. But before they could make their moves, the Grand Duke approached Sylas.
"Why him? Does the Grand Duke also have business with the Dragonslayer?"
"Now that I think about it, I heard the Dragonslayer once visited the West…"
As the nobles speculated furiously, Arathion reached Sylas and smiled.
"You look well, son-in-law," Arathion said.
"It's good to see you in good health too, Father-in-law," Sylas replied.
"...!?"
Silent gasps echoed throughout the hall as the nobles processed the exchange.
Within the Empire, Sylas's accomplishnts were widely known for two things: assisting the church in defeating demons and single-handedly eradicating a horde of dragons in the North.
By contrast, his deeds in the West were far less recognized. That was only natural—Sylas had never taken the spotlight in those incidents. Even among the nobles of the West, few knew much about him beyond his involvent in the princess incident.
Thus, the current revelation struck even harder than before.
"Son-in-law? Did I hear that wrong?"
"An elf and a human, engaged? That has to be a joke!"
Elves had always looked down on humans, so the idea that their leader would wed his daughter to a human was unthinkable. And yet, the two n continued their conversation as though it were perfectly normal.
"It seems Eldy isn't here," Sylas remarked.
"It's a bit early for her. Do you miss your fiancée?" Arathion asked with a faint smirk.
"A wise husband would certainly say he does," Sylas replied.
"Correct. I see now that I can trust you with my daughter."
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