The pub fell into an abrupt silence as all eyes stared at the five thugs who were making the ruckus.

“What are you looking at?!” the drunk thug barked, his words slurred. Meeting everyone’s eyes, and finding no challengers, he smirked and continued, “We’re the Crimson Talons! If you know what’s good for you, mind your goddamn business!” Turning his attention back to the girl, he yanked her to his lap and said, “Stay still, b*tch! I already told you I’d pay double if you entertained us.”

The young woman could only remain quiet, desperately holding back her tears.

“Tsk, why can’t I have a quiet night drinking?!” Jareth exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration. “No matter where I go, there are always idiots making trouble,” he remarked, downing another drink with a sense of resignation.

“You’re just going to sit there and not help that poor woman?” Elysian questioned, his gaze fixed on him. “Isn’t it the duty of someone strong to assist those in need?”

The old man just snorted and challenged, “What responsibility?” Glancing at the young noble, he continued, “The only responsibility of the strong is not to get involved with matters related to the weak. Do you know why, boy?”

“No,” Elysian responded, shaking his head.

“If the strong get involved, blood will be spilled—unnecessary bloodshed. Just think about what would happen if I got involved every time something like this occurred. Every road in the city I visit will turn into a river of blood,” Jareth stated, taking another sip from his drink. “Also, why would I get involved when you’re here? Isn’t this your responsibility, along with those soldiers there? Why don’t you make your move?”

“I just thought I’d give the strongest here the honor to be the hero tonight,” Elysian quipped, smirking at him.

“Isn’t that you? You just beat me earlier,” the mercenary stated with humor in his voice. “If you really want me to take care of them, you can always pay me with that dagger of yours,” he said, glancing at the relic on the boy’s waist.

“In your dream, old man, I’ve won it fair and square,” the young noble retorted, snorting at the idea of giving up his new prized possession. As he held the dagger in his hands, he felt something ominous and dangerous about it. When he used his ability on the relic again, it still showed the same information as before. Shifting his attention to the thugs, he remarked, “Hey, can you stop making trouble? Also, let that poor woman go.”

“Huh?” The drunk thug glanced towards the voice. When he saw it was just a child, he chuckled and said, “Hey, brat! Don’t meddle in adults’ business! Hasn’t your mother taught you that?”

Abruptly, Elysian’s companions rose from their seats, Bran’s eyes ablaze with determination, though his face betrayed hints of nervousness, and Osric, with his ferocious expression, growling for a fight. Even the young soldiers followed suit, readying themselves for any trouble.

Silence fell like a heavy curtain upon the entire pub as every patron cast wary glances between the two groups, their nerves on edge, bracing for the slightest hint of trouble.

“All of you, sit down and continue enjoying your celebration,” Elysian stated nonchalantly. Knowing his capability, they weren’t worried and immediately followed his wishes, sitting down and continuing their eating and drinking. His two companions were a little hesitant, glancing at him with anxious faces. When they saw his confidence, they nodded at the boy and reluctantly sat back. With that dealt with, he turned his attention back to the drunk thug and said, “I’m the one who should ask you that. Didn’t your mother teach you to respect girls and be polite when dealing with people?”

“Who do you…”

Before he could finish his words, another thug whispered into his ears, clearly recognizing the boy. Instead of fear and panic upon knowing his identity, he grew even angrier.

“So, this is the brat that causes us trouble!” the thug barked, his eyes burning with fury. “Kid, do you have any idea how much trouble you’ve caused us?!”

“Do you know them?” Jareth asked, his curiosity piqued by the accusation he just heard.

“Huh? No, it’s the first time I’ve seen them,” Elysian denied, observing the thugs carefully and trying to remember them. “Who the hell are you?”

“We’re the Crimson Talons, brat!” the drunk thug exclaimed, taking another chug from his mug. “You should remember that name…”

“Master, they’re the ones that tried to get money from us,” Osric abruptly interjected, making the whole situation much clearer.

“Ah, those idiots,” Elysian stated loudly so that everyone could hear.

“What did you just call us?” another thug asked, not appreciating the way the young noble referred to them.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

When he saw them frown, he smirked and continued, “Gaining a little power, and suddenly you have the audacity to act mighty in front of the ruler’s son. Tsk. If you’re not a complete idiot, I don’t know what to call you.”

“You might be the Baron’s son, but so what?” the drunk thug challenged, chuckling as his intoxication was starting to wear off. “Kid, living in that mansion of yours, you’ve lost touch with reality. You nobles think you hold all the power,” he stated, suddenly bursting into laughter. “Ha! Let me enlighten you. In here and on the streets, it’s the gangs who reign supreme. And we’re one of the biggest, not just in your little barony but in the entire dukedom. With all the crimes we’ve committed, why do you think we can roam free? Look at your soldiers; why do you think they turn a blind eye to us?”

Glancing at the young soldiers, Elysian noticed their downcast eyes, betraying a sense of shame. With a sigh, he remained quiet while the thugs chuckled, observing the unfolding scene.

“The answer is very simple. We give money to the right people so that they can turn a blind eye to us,” the drunk thug remarked, smirking in triumph. “Kid, you’re acting arrogantly, thinking that you hold power, but you don’t. The ones that hold real power have allowed us to do what we want. So, why don’t you sit back and behave like a good boy? Maybe I’ll even treat you to some milk if you want.”

The five ruffians erupted into laughter, their voices echoing around the quiet and tense room. All the eyes were fixed on the boy, who just remained standing without any emotion on his face. The sole exception was Osric, growling at the thugs while being held back by Bran.

“It seems you’ve just been hit by reality, boy,” Jareth quipped, smiling without a care in the world. “This place, like all the others, is rotting with corruption and injustice. A kid like you can’t change anything. Greed is simply part of being human—a force of nature that nobody can stop. This is simply reality. Just accept it.”

“You’re right, old man. This world is truly rotten, and greed is inherent in all of us—a force of nature, as you said. Fighting against it is a waste of time,” Elysian stated, agreeing with the words of the mercenary. Suddenly smirking at the thugs, who had a satisfied expression on their faces, thinking that they’d won, he quipped, “That’s why I’m not fighting against my greed. I’ll let it consume me. And do you know what I’m greedy for, old man?”

“What?” Jareth asked, shooting him a curious glance and arching a brow.

“I’m greedy for control,” Elysian declared. In an instant, he vanished, appearing atop the drunk thug’s shoulder, his new dagger stabbing into it. “What I truly despise is someone making a mess of what belongs to me.”

Screaming from shock and pain, the ruffian tried to pull the boy down. Before he could even touch him, the young noble disappeared again. Suddenly, he fell to one knee, with a dagger now stabbed into his right leg.

“You see, old man, I couldn’t care less about what happens to all the other places. They can pillage it or even turn it into ruin. I don’t really care,” Elysian remarked, staring at the thug as if he were an insect that needed to be squashed. “But if filth like these dare to take a sh*t at my place, it grates on my nerves,” he stated, his voice devoid of emotion as he twisted the dagger to cause maximum pain, relishing the agony it inflicted. His icy voice sent shivers down the spines of everyone who listened to him, a chilling reminder that he was no mere child. “It’s so irritating, in fact, that I find it difficult to sleep until I crush them like vermin.”

The two thugs closest to the boy tried to catch him. However, he easily side-stepped the second thug, stabbing the other in the leg. Shifting to the other side, both thugs collided with each other, falling to the ground. Suddenly, the fourth thug jumped to his defenseless back, trying to pin him down. Before he could even touch him, the young noble somersaulted backward, totally avoiding him. Gracefully perching on his head, the boy stabbed him in the shoulder before kicking him in the back, sending him sprawling towards the ground with his two comrades.

“You brat!” the last thug that was still standing bellowed, pointing a finger at the boy. “Even if you’re the Baron’s son, do you think you can get away with this?! The Crimson Talons will make you pay…” Out of nowhere, his arm suddenly fell. He stood there, frozen in shock. He could do nothing but watch as his arm fell to the ground.

“If you have the gall to point at me,” Elysian stated, his tone dripping with disdain as he observed the thug’s shock expression. “It means you don't value your arm anymore.”

The thug’s jaw dropped, and his eyes widened in shock, staring at his arm on the ground. Realizing what had happened, he dove to the floor, attempting to reattach it as his scream filled the entire room.

“Pathetic vermin!” Elysian remarked, his voice dripping with venom and contempt, gazing at the screaming thug before turning to the other ruffians, whose eyes were now filled with terror. “You think you can just waltz into my city and do whatever you want? While you might get away with it elsewhere, I’ll skin you alive if you try that here! Go, get out of my city! If I ever find out that you and your entire gang are still operating in the barony by the end of the week, I’ll have all of you killed!”

The thugs, supporting their seriously injured comrade, hastily bolted out of the door. The young woman, harassed by the ruffians earlier, stood up and bowed in thanks before hurriedly running out of the pub. Well, her reaction wasn’t entirely unexpected, considering what the boy had done was truly terrifying to those who saw it.

As he turned around, Elysian noticed fear in the eyes of nearly everyone in the room, including some of the young soldiers. Hoping to lighten the atmosphere, he flashed a wide grin and said loudly, “Since those troublemakers are gone, why don’t we continue having fun?! Drinks are on me for the next round, so bottoms up!”

Abruptly, the tension in the entire room dissipated, and some even clapped and cheered for him in response to his kind gesture.

“It seems you’ve handled that well, boy,” Jareth remarked, an approving grin displayed on his face as he glanced at the young noble, who sat again next to him. “I’ll warn you, though; those thugs won’t get out of here with just that. You should expect some kind of retaliation if I were you.”

“I know,” Elysian replied, nodding at him while studying the totally clean dagger, which should have been soaked in blood. “Hmm…”

“Something wrong?” Jareth questioned, glancing at the relic.

“No, there isn’t,” Elysian quickly said, shaking his head and flashing a wide grin.

image [https://i.imgur.com/nf0U6Yz.png]