"These madmen actually tried to assassinate him!"
Sylas, hearing Zeldir's confession, chuckled coldly. Without hesitation, he drained the remaining wine in one gulp.
Gulp.
"Your Excellency!"
"What are you doing!?"
The nobles gasped in horror, but Sylas nonchalantly wiped his lips and tossed the goblet aside. All eyes were on him, waiting for any sign of the poison taking effect. Yet as time passed, Sylas remained completely unharmed.
Gerdt stared at him in disbelief.
"How... How is this possible?"
"Did you really think a poison made from a dragon could harm a descendant of dragons?" Sylas said with a smirk.
"...!?"
It wasn't just a fabricated legend? The two lords felt the strength drain from their bodies as despair consumed them. Sylas's words left not only the lords but the entire camp in shock.
"Long live the Count! Long live the Dragon's Bloodline!"
"He survived the poison? Truly miraculous!"