In truth, this was an understatent. Compared to the imperial heartland, Drakenfels was only slightly smaller.
The imperial court had encouraged civil wars to prevent Drakenfels from reuniting, but even that strategy had its limits.
Now, 30 years after the death of the previous count, Brahim, the situation in the south had shifted. The fragnted lands had begun to consolidate.
What had once been fifteen territories was now nine. In another ten or twenty years, nine could beco six, then three, and eventually one.
"And why shouldn't I be the one to rule over that unified land?" muttered a young man with a muscular build, stroking his short beard.
Ervin trembled under the cold gaze of his lord, Conrad Glixbor. Under normal circumstances, he would have voiced his agreent, but now he couldn't.
The lord's fury was directed at the news Ervin had brought.
"And now, so stranger shows up claiming to be the rightful lord of Drakenfels," Conrad growled, his voice barely restrained.
"Tell again, Ervin. What did this so-called count say?"
"He… invited you to discuss misunderstandings regarding the baron and the currently occupied territory," Ervin stamred.
"And you call that a report?!" Conrad bellowed, slamming his fist against the table with such force that the wood splintered.
A flying glass figurine narrowly missed Ervin's right ear, grazing past it. The fact that it hadn't hit his head was likely due to Conrad's last vestige of restraint.
"Discussing the territory I occupy? Who does that upstart think he is to claim I need permission to rule my own land?!" Conrad roared.
"Y-you're absolutely right, my lord," Ervin stamred.
"Of course I am! And yet, you couldn't even counter his nonsense before slinking back here?" Conrad bellowed.
"The circumstances didn't allow to do anything, my lord," Ervin pleaded.
"That's your excuse…?!" Conrad's hands trembled with rage, his killing intent palpable. Ervin, kneeling before him, swallowed hard and spoke carefully.
"My lord, if I had provoked him, none of us would have made it out alive. At the very least, soone had to return to report the situation."
"At least you still have your tongue," Conrad sneered, though his tone had softened slightly. As much as it annoyed him, he couldn't deny that Ervin's logic made sense.
"Enough with the excuses! Tell everything about this man," Conrad demanded.
"Yes, my lord," Ervin replied, taking a deep breath before beginning his report.
He described how Anton had tried to use Sylas's arrival as an opportunity to kill him and how close they had co to succeeding. But Sylas's knights had overturned the situation in an instant. Ervin also explained how Sylas had freed the forr lord from captivity and restored him.
When Ervin finished, Conrad's face twisted in disbelief.
"You expect to believe that nonsense?"
"It's the truth, my lord," Ervin insisted.
"The new count and just three knights wiped out all of the baron's forces? You might as well tell the man turned into a dragon!"
"If you doubt , summon the knights and soldiers who were with . They all saw the sa thing," Ervin said firmly, eting Conrad's furious glare without flinching.
After a long mont of silence, Conrad clicked his tongue and leaned back in his chair.
"Tsk. It seems the title 'Dragonslayer' isn't just empty boasting," Conrad muttered.
"I can't say for certain if he truly killed a dragon, but he's certainly capable of handling Black Lions or trolls with ease," Ervin added.
"That would explain why he dared to enter the baron's castle so confidently," Conrad said, tapping his fingers on the armrest. The situation had taken a troubling turn.
When the new count had first arrived in Drakenfels, Conrad had assud he wouldn't last long. Yet now, rather than dying young, Sylas seed to be sweeping through the entire southern region.
"Christoph is imprisoned, stripped of his domain. Anton and all his forces were wiped out by just four n. And now he's summoned next," Conrad muttered darkly.
The invitation's stated purpose was laughable—to discuss the governance of a disputed territory. No one in their right mind would agree to such a eting, even with the threat of being branded a traitor.
"What's the point of attending? I already control the land. There's nothing to gain."
That was what made the situation even more suspicious. It felt as though Sylas wanted him to refuse outright.
"Ervin, what do you think?" Conrad asked suddenly.
"About the count's proposal, my lord?"
"Yes. Do you think we should accept?"
"To be honest, I don't know," Ervin admitted, lowering his head. As a strategist, admitting ignorance felt like a failure, but the complexity of the situation left him with no other answer.
"From every angle, there's no reason to accept the count's demand. Any other lord would refuse outright," Ervin continued.
"That's true," Conrad agreed.
"But the fact that he made such a proposal suggests he's already laid another trap, expecting our refusal. Whatever it is, it's likely to be far more dangerous," Ervin warned.
"Exactly. That's why it might be better to accept the proposal—take so minor inconveniences now to uncover his larger plan," Conrad mused.
"If it were anyone else, I'd agree," Ervin said cautiously.
"Anyone else? Are you saying this man is different?"
"The issue is the count's strength, my lord. If you leave the castle, I cannot guarantee your safety," Ervin replied.
No matter what Sylas said, Conrad would inevitably refuse to return the land. That refusal could result in imdiate conflict.
If negotiations broke down and Sylas's knights attacked, Conrad wouldn't even have a chance to flee.
"And if I don't attend, he'll still brand a traitor, won't he?" Conrad asked.
"That's true. But if you're going to be labeled a traitor anyway, wouldn't it be better to fortify the castle and defend from there? At least your safety would be ensured," Ervin reasoned.
"Hmm."
Conrad nodded slowly. Ervin's argunt made sense. Facing the Dragonslayer in open terrain was vastly different from confronting him behind fortified walls.
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