Lord of Caldera

Chapter 100

Ray left the room, her face immediately turning cold as she stepped outside.

"Are you taking good care of my mother?" she asked, her tone sharp.

"I... I'm giving my utmost," the maid stammered, trembling.

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"Good. Because the day she feels discomfort is the day you die," Ray warned.

The middle-aged maid bowed her head, trembling. Ray, she knew, was more than capable of snapping her neck on the spot if she ever failed.

"Why did I ever do that? It wasn't because she was illegitimate..." the maid muttered, deeply regretting her past actions, keeping her head bowed low. Ray passed by her without a word and strode through the hallway. Those around her flinched and backed away, fear clearly evident in their eyes.

When Ray reached the study, a servant stammered, "M-My Lord Viscount... the young lady...."

Clunk!

The servant gaped in shock as Ray, without waiting for him to announce her, opened the door and walked in. She closed the door behind her and looked directly at the man inside the room—a nobleman with graying hair and mutton chops that joined his beard. He was Caden Winslow, the current head of the Winslow Viscountcy.

"I heard you summoned me," Ray said.@@@@

"No respect, it seems. Couldn't you wait until the servant finished speaking?" Caden rebuked her.

"Why don't you get to the point?" she replied.

"Are you still resentful of me?" Caden asked, his voice laced with bitterness. Ray remained silent, prompting him to click his tongue and turn away.

"The priest tells me that your mother's health has been improving remarkably," he said.

"Yes," Ray replied.

"We're feeding her only the most nourishing food. In three months, she'll be healthy enough to walk again," he continued.

"Thanks to the elixir my lord gave her," Ray remarked.

"...And also thanks to the care we've provided her!" Caden snapped, his suppressed anger finally boiling over as he glared at her.

"You are a child of the West! Where do you think you're going, leaving this suffering land behind!?"

"To the side of the lord to whom I swore my loyalty," she responded calmly.

"But when she finally visited, she came with an elixir, a cure, and healed her mother completely. Only later did we learn that it was the legendary elixir," Beric continued.

"So, isn't that the end of it? Her mother's cured. There's no reason to keep her any longer," Sylas noted.

"It's been five years since Ray's mother fell ill with that sleeping disease. The illness may have been cured, but she's so frail now that she could snap like a twig. She needs time to fully recuperate," Beric explained.

"And that's why you kept her in the Winslow family," Sylas concluded.

"Yes. That was the last thread we had to keep her close," Beric admitted, bowing his head. Everything else had already been laid bare—holding her back under the pretense of caring for her mother while sending Beric to find out who her new lord was.

Sylas let out a scoff, half-amused and half-disbelieving. "Unbelievable. You and Ulrich both... You all try to keep people under your thumb when they're at their most desperate. Then, when things change, you scramble to fix everything."

Toby, equally unimpressed, threw in a scathing comment. "Idiots. They could've just treated her right from the start."

Beric's face turned red with shame. For once, he had nothing to say in defense. Sylas smirked at Beric as he watched him shrink under Toby's words.

"Well, I'd say we were lucky. At least we got some information from this guy beforehand," Sylas remarked.

"So, what now? Are we still heading straight to the Winslow estate?" Toby asked.

"No. First, we'll do a little knightly duty along the way," Sylas replied.

"Excuse me?" Toby and Max exchanged confused looks. Hadn't Sylas planned to avoid attracting attention before meeting Ray?

"If we're going to go, let's make sure the Winslows come looking for us first," Sylas said with a sly smile.

Two weeks later, Viscount Caden Winslow's voice echoed through his study.

"What is the meaning of this?! A wandering knight, you say?!"

The title of wandering knight was an outdated, dusty relic of a custom, yet to the people of the West, such knights were indispensable. They warded off monsters for minimal reward, so the townsfolk naturally celebrated them. Ordinarily, this would be good news for the Viscount as well, as wandering knights brought stability to the region.

But the issue was what came next.

"What is this title? 'Lord of the Flame-Haired Knight'?!"

Nobles often carried a title or epithet. Some were granted by others, while some bestowed fanciful ones upon themselves. But this particular wandering knight had been loudly proclaiming his self-styled title wherever he went.

"I am Sylas Corleone, descendant of the Dragon and lord to the Flame-Haired Knight, Ray Winslow!"

"This crazy man..."