As Alevis left the manor and made his way down the winding path leading back toward the Empire's carriage, he glanced at his two protectors, both maintaining their stoic expressions despite the quiet tension in their eyes.

Once they reached the waiting horses, he turned to them, pausing for a moment before asking,

“So, what are your thoughts on his power?”

Alevis wanted to know what his bodyguards thought about Sylas.

In the end, they were both level three individuals; one of them is a magical warrior, and one of them is a proper battle mage. Their power gives them enough authority in the whole Empire to do almost anything.

The two men exchanged a quick glance before responding almost simultaneously.

“We would leave in an instant if we could. It is hard to keep standing when he looks at us,” the warrior admitted, his voice betraying a trace of unease as he looked back at the manor.

“And if it came to battle, we’d have no chance. His power is… unsettling.”

The mage, who had remained silent until now, nodded.

“His energy was as dense as it was restrained. If he chose to strike, we would barely register the attack, let alone resist it.”

Alevis took this in, glancing back toward the looming figure of the manor against the morning light.

“Sylas didn’t simply reveal his power,” he murmured, almost to himself.

“He hinted at it. And that’s far more dangerous. If he was a naive guy with arrogance because of his power, he would use it to gain more from the negotiation.”

The mage shifted his weight, taking a deep breath.

“If I may, sir... In all my years, I’ve yet to sense such power from anyone not seated on a throne.

"Sylas could be an ally to the Empire, but if we push too hard, we might lose him forever.”

Alevis pursed his lips thoughtfully.

“You’re right. I must convey this clearly to the Emperor. Granting the Sylind family both autonomy and sufficient lands would only strengthen the Empire—force would be futile. I’ll make sure to suggest a substantial offering: a large territory, perhaps even an entire city, where he can build his own dominion, free from Empire interference.”

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His guards both nodded in agreement, seeming relieved by Alevis’s decision.

They knew well the price of trying to contain such a formidable power as Syria.

As they mounted their horses, Alevis took one final look at the manor, knowing that any misstep in the days ahead could spell disaster.

But if he succeeded in this delicate alliance, he thought, it could mark a new age of influence for the Empire, one strengthened by the loyalty of the formidable Sylind Family.

As the carriage continued down the road, the warrior’s eyes stayed fixed on the distant outline of the Sylind manor.

His fingers unconsciously tightened around the hilt of his sword as he thought about Sylas.

The mage’s words rang in his mind:

“Sylas could be an ally.” But he knew better.

That wasn’t an ally, not even close.

Sylas might be working with the Empire for now, but there was a smoldering fire behind his calm exterior—a fire he had no doubt would consume anyone who dared to cross it.

In his years of service, the warrior had seen his share of grudges, bitter blood feuds, and power plays among noble houses. Yet nothing quite compared to what he sensed from Sylas.

Unlike the typical nobles, who squabbled over titles and family pride,

Sylas held a different type of rage: one buried under layers of discipline, honed by hardship, and laced with purpose.

And in his line of work, he knew that a fury held in check was far deadlier than one unleashed.

As they passed through a cluster of trees lining the road, he glanced over at the mage, whose expression was calm but tense, betraying none of the doubt that plagued the warrior’s mind.

A quick escape if things went south—that was his own plan, and he had no shame in admitting it.

As a seasoned warrior, he valued his life above loyalty to any throne, and he wouldn’t hesitate to leave the Silver Empire if it meant escaping a conflict with Sylas.

Better to be alive and free in some distant province than dead in the Emperor's court, his loyalty spent on a foolish cause.

The thought gave him some comfort.

He had connections in a few neighboring kingdoms and could disappear without a trace if the need arose.

“Let others call it cowardice,” he thought with a faint smirk.

“But it’s smarter to survive and fight another day than die for nothing.”

His gaze turned back toward the horizon, and he couldn’t help but wonder how things would unfold. Alevis Silver’s hope for an alliance was a gamble he felt would fail.

Sylas’s ambition and raw power were far beyond the Empire’s reach.

And with the knowledge that Sylas had the backing of the Third Circle, he was even more convinced that they weren’t dealing with a man who’d settle for a land grant or minor title.

He suspected that in Sylas’s eyes, the Empire itself was merely a stepping stone, one he wouldn’t hesitate to crush underfoot when the time came.