Lord of Caldera

The next morning. After a good night's sleep in the guest room and finishing breakfast, Sylas was visited by Gordon.

"Did you sleep well last night?"

"Thanks to your consideration, I slept soundly."

"I'm glad to hear that. His Excellency the Count wishes to meet you."

Finally! Sylas's eyes sparkled. All the preparations made up to this point were for this moment. It would not be an exaggeration to say that this was a turning point in his life.

As Gordon clapped his hands, servants entered politely, holding clothes.

"We have prepared the formal attire you will wear before meeting His Excellency the Count. We would appreciate it if you could wear it, even if it's a bit uncomfortable."

"I'm the one who should be thankful. I appreciate all this preparation."

Sylas willingly changed into the formal attire. In this world, appearance was as important as ability and character. There was no reason to refuse when offered a chance to be adorned.

The formal attire was a modest black outfit embroidered with gold thread. It seemed designed to hide its elegance behind a simple beauty. After changing clothes with the help of the servants, Gordon admired his appearance.

"You look truly radiant like this. It may sound cliché, but you look like a prince from a fairy tale."

" Thank you."

Sylas smiled inwardly at Gordon's heartfelt compliment. If there was any advantage in this world since his reincarnation, it was his appearance.

Thanks to his father and mother's genes, Sylas was quite handsome.

With such fine clothing added, he could easily be mistaken for a noble gentleman.

"Well then, I will escort you to his Excellency the Count."

Gordon led Sylas to the Count's office. Sylas took a quick glance at the mansion. Although he had seen it countless times before his regression, it felt fresh to see it again.

The carpets and decorations that he had taken for granted as a noble were all luxurious items that a poor knight could hardly dream of.

'I must succeed even more than this in this life.'

Sylas clenched his fist and reflected on his life goals. What was crucial for that was the meeting he was about to have. A moment later, Gordon knocked on the office door.

"Your Excellency the Count, I have brought the young master."

"Let him in."

Gordon stopped there and bowed his head to Sylas. Sylas slightly nodded in return, then opened the door and entered.

"Welcome."

"..."

There were two people in the office. One was a middle-aged nobleman with brown hair and purple eyes, Bill Corleone. The other was the Countess, Helena. After quickly scanning both of them, Sylas bowed deeply.

"I am Sylas, the grandson of Norman and the son of Lyria, here to greet my father and the Countess."

***

"Ah, I heard you lived as a hunter."

Count Bill swallowed the admiration that was about to escape him without realizing it. Even if he was the firstborn of a prestigious noble family, he had a trustworthy aura. It wasn't just that he looked impressive; no matter how well one dresses up, true character is revealed through one's demeanor.

Sylas's demeanor exuded the perfect dignity of a noble.

'If he possesses the proper etiquette, who would dare consider this child a commoner?'

Even the Count himself seemed unable to distinguish between them. Unlike the Count, who was swallowing his admiration, Helena bit her lip, concealing her expression behind a fan. The fact that he showed such dignity despite having common blood stirred her anger.

The Count smiled, unaware of Helena's true feelings.

"Yes, I am your father. I am glad to meet you like this. Have you heard anything about me from Lyria?"

Crack!

With Count Bill's words, there was a sound of something breaking. Helena had gripped the fan too tightly, causing one of the ribs to snap. Sylas forced a smile at the sight of Helena's unintentional provocation of her own anger.

'Still as clueless as ever.'

Sylas's assessment of Count Bill was straightforward: a paragon of nobility, thoroughly adhering to his responsibilities and duties, and a sensitive romanticist. However, he was also a man remarkably oblivious and insensitive to the dark emotions of others.

How could he not have believed Gaiden's proclamation before his regression when he said, "I have never troubled the young master, I swear on my honor"?

'Thanks to that, I suffered a lot.'

Sylas had become a noble thanks to the Count's righteous character, but at the same time, his personality made it hard for him to escape the internal bullying. When the perpetrator would say, "Why would I do something so vile?" the Count would brush it off, thinking, 'Yes, if he's human, he wouldn't do such things.'

Helena had thoroughly tormented Sylas by taking advantage of the Count's personality.

'But that's not the case anymore.'

While Helena had previously exploited the Count's character, it was now Sylas's turn to use it to his advantage. With a slightly wistful gaze, Sylas lowered his eyes.

"I've heard a lot about you, Father. My mother would talk about you at length whenever she opened her mouth."

"Lyria?"

"Yes, she said she had never seen such a wonderful person in her life, and with that memory alone, she could live her life filled with strength."

"Hmm."

At Sylas's words, the Count's eyes sank, and he let out a sigh. It was merely a fleeting connection, yet he never expected she had thought of him that way. He felt regret for not having taken care of her earlier.

Actually, he didn't hear anything at all.

Sylas's mother died shortly after giving birth to him due to puerperal fever. Naturally, there were no stories she could tell him while she was alive. However, the village of Brick, which knew that fact, had long since vanished.

"Can you tell me the last words that Lyria left behind?"

"She only asked that the camellias she had cherished be burned with her."

"Camellias? Surely not…!"

"They were dried flowers. She always treasured them, saying she received them before I was even born."