Sybil narrowed his eyes, skeptical of the young noble’s explanation. When the younger boy did not elaborate further, he just shrugged, content to let the subject slide even as the noise continued unabated.

“I’ve heard you’ve all been busy?” Elysian asked, changing the topic.

Sybil’s shoulders sagged as he spoke, the weight of his words evident in his posture. “Yeah, I’ve been on my feet since dawn,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. His eyes, rimmed with dark circles, scanned the horizon instinctively. “Every able-bodied soldier in the city’s been dragged out to bolster the ranks. We’re all on edge. No one knows where the fight will spark or when it’ll explode.”

“Is it really that bad?” Elysian tried to act as skeptical as possible to get a clearer picture. “They’re just thugs. What could they even do? We have a powerful army. I doubt they can do anything.”

Sybil snorted at the noble’s dismissive voice. “We do have a strong military, but where are they?”

Elysian, for his part, remained silent. His face was an impassive mask, revealing nothing of his thoughts. Only his eyes, sharp and attentive, betrayed his keen interest in Sybil’s words. He made no move to interrupt, no gesture to dismiss. Instead, he waited, an unspoken invitation for Sybil to continue.

“Nearly all our forces are involved in the war against Eldoran, and those that remain are at the border, protecting the barony. Now that some of the forces have been recalled, I don’t know if it’s enough to protect either the city or the border at the same time,” Sybil explained, narrowing his eyes when he noticed the boy seemed uninterested. “You don’t seem to care, young master. Is the death and destruction of the city and its people nothing to you?”

Elysian’s eyebrows shot up, his composed facade cracking for a moment. “Huh, what?” he blurted, caught off guard by Sybil’s bitter tone. His mouth opened, ready to fire back, but he caught himself. A flicker of realization crossed his face as he recalled his earlier dismissive expression.

Exhaling slowly, Elysian’s shoulders relaxed. “I apologize,” he said, his voice softening. “My reaction must have seemed callous. It’s just… well, I was already aware of what you’ve told me.”

He paused, brow furrowing as he gathered his thoughts. “What I can’t wrap my head around is this: why are we terrified over a criminal organization? No matter how powerful they might be, surely they can’t hold a candle to our current forces?”

Elysian began to pace, his words picking up speed. “We have a professional military at our disposal—soldiers with years of combat experience. Not to mention, the backing of a legitimate noble house.”

He glanced at Sybil. “The Crimson Talon, on the hand? They skulk in the shadows. Sure, their illicit activities might line some pockets, but building a formidable force in secret? That’s a tall order.” A derisive snort escaped him. “I doubt they even have the muscle to make those b*stards in Highbury or Alderwick break a sweat.”

As he finished, Elysian’s eyes locked onto Sybil’s, a mix of curiosity and challenge in their depths. His words hung in the air, inviting a response.

“It seems you’re really oblivious to the realities of the world, young master.”

‘Me, oblivious to the realities of the world? What nonsense is his b*stard talking about?’

Elysian raised his brow and snorted, “Please enlighten me, wise one.”

“I don’t mean to insult you, young master.” Sybil sighed. “I understand why you would think that way. Well… If what you all said is true, then you are right, but it’s not. The reality is that all the large criminal syndicates operating right now are being backed by other noble families. Some are not just being backed by one family, but by two or more.”

“What?!”

‘Wait, wait, didn’t Grimscar also say that he was working with my uncle? Then, it’s likely that he’s also working with the other prominent noble houses. F*ck!’

When Sybil saw the reaction of the boy, he continued, “After the previous king died, Thorin hasn’t been the same. Chaos and corruption are everywhere. No one can stop the rise of these big syndicates like the Crimson Talon. That means their power can rival some of the noble houses in the Kingdom.”

‘Sh*t!’

“Damn, I didn’t know it was this serious,” Elysian muttered, his eyes widening in surprise.

Sybil nodded when he saw the younger boy’s reaction and said, “Yeah, it is, but you don’t need to worry about their forces attacking us though.”

“Why?”

“Crimson Talon had a… branch in Ironspire. Do you know what that means?”

Elysian nodded and muttered, “That we are one of the nobles who have some form of partnership with them.”

Sybil was surprised that the young noble easily answered him as if he knew this already. Shrugging, he knew that it’s none of his business, so he continued, “Yes, that’s right. Well, that’s just speculation on my part. I heard some of the soldiers talking about it. If you want to know the real truth, you can ask your uncle about it.“

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

‘No need. I already know.’

Elysian just nodded with a somber look without saying anything.

“From the very start, we already knew that Crimson Talon has a branch in Ironspire, as do the other syndicates like the Dread Raider. There are also rumors that the Silent Dagger is operating here. They don’t really have any reason to attack us, since we just let them be and ignored them,” Sybil stated. When he saw the noble’s narrowing eyes, he quickly added, “Hey, don’t blame us. It’s an order from above. We just do what we’re told.”

“I’m not blaming you,” Elysian said to calm him. “It’s likely an order from my uncle, right?”

Sybil just nodded before he continued, “Our worry is not that they will attack us but that they will fight each other. With so many powerful criminal organizations fighting in the city, it will be a bloodbath. We have so little manpower to stop them and protect the city and its people.”

“Yeah, we’re in a f*cked up situation,” Elysian muttered, sighing. He knew full well that he was powerless to do anything, even though he started all this. They remained silent for a long moment as the reality of their current predicament darkened their mood.

“Young master!” Bran exited the training hall, followed by Osric. “Why did you do that? I thought you liked me?”

The dreary atmosphere around Elysian immediately disappeared, replaced by the relentless complaints of the servant. Instead of increasing the tension, it did the opposite. Knowing the noble, Sybil and Osric looked at the young boy, shaking their heads and chuckling.

“What?!” Elysian shamelessly acted as if he were the victim there. Turning to the servant, he put his hands on his arms and smiled. “Big fella, forget it already. I’m hungry. I know you’re hungry too, so let's go quickly and eat, okay?”

“Young master, I know what you’re doing,” Bran retorted, frowning at him. “You can’t bribe me. What you did earlier wasn’t nice. If you keep doing it, I’ll be angry with you…”

Elysian sighed, letting go of the older boy’s arm and glancing at Osric and Sybil. “It seems we’re the only ones who are going to eat. I’m thinking of having a feast today. Some roast beef, pies, pottages, cheese, stews, cakes, and other delicious food to celebrate your ascent to being cultivators.”

As Elysian listed the food, he smirked when he noticed the servant’s mouth watering as he imagined eating it all to fill his bottomless stomach. Shrugging, the noble walked out towards the center of the city, followed by Osric and Sybil.

“Young master, don’t leave me behind,” Bran said, hurrying to follow them. “I’m just kidding. I would never be angry with you.”

“Wait, are you serious? Both Osric and Bran have become cultivators?” Sybil’s eyes widened in surprise, carefully studying the noble to see if he was just messing with him.

“Are you deaf?” Elysian responded, frowning at the suspicion he received. “I’ve said it already. You can ask them if you don’t believe me.”

Sybil glanced at the two boys. Osric just nodded at him without elaborating, while Bran grinned, proud of his achievements and smugly boasted, “I’m a cultivator now. I’m like Commander Cedric, Captain Lucas, and the others. Don’t worry, if you work hard and don’t give up, you’ll be like me too.”

“Hey, big fella. He’s a cultivator too,” Osric stated, correcting him.

“Huh, right, right, sorry I forgot. I’m just too excited at the moment. I’m already a cultivator now. I can’t imagine that this would happen; however, I’ve always been dreaming of this moment…” Bran kept on rattling nonstop before he suddenly stopped talking as his face brightened. “Ah, I remember now, you’re the one that got his nuts busted by the young master. Are you okay now?”

Sybil's smiling face instantly strained, trying to control his temper from blowing off. “It seems the servant is like his master. Tsk, I should have known,” he muttered, turning to Elysian who just grinned.

“By the way, why are you following us?” Elysian asked, raising his brow.

“What do you mean? I thought you’re going to treat us to a feast?”

“I mean them. You’re not included,” the noble remarked, scowling at the older boy. “Go away.”

“Cheapskate.” Undeterred, Sybil kept following them.

As they exited the training ground, a young woman walked up to them and bowed. “Good morning, my lord.”

“Well, it’s noon already.” Elysian narrowed his eyes, trying to recall the familiar face. “Who are you, and what do you want?”

Osric suddenly leaned closer to the young noble and whispered something to him.

“Ah, I see,” Elysian muttered, nodding.

‘This might get quite complicated if Sybil is with us. Hmm…’

“What’s your name again?” Elysian asked, smiling at the woman. “Sorry, I forgot. I hope you’ll not hold it against me.”

“Of course not, my lord,” she said, bowing in respect. “I’m Nina, my lord. Nina White.”

“Nice to meet you again, Nina White,” Elysian responded, nodding at her. “Lead the way.”

Sybil remained quiet throughout the whole exchange. After carefully observing the woman, coupled with his daily duty in patrolling the streets, he already had an idea of her line of work. Though he was curious about the relationship between the two, there were certain things, when it involved nobles, that were better left unspoken, as if he heard or saw nothing.

Even though he was always casual with the young noble, he even had the audacity to challenge him to a duel. But he wasn’t entirely stupid. He understood clearly when to act ignorant. Also, his relationship with Elysian was different than before. He had a certain respect for the young noble—a certain level of camaraderie, even though he wouldn’t admit it.

This was proven true when Elysian glanced at him, smiling as if hinting at something. He understood immediately and nodded back.

The group moved silently through the city, following the young woman’s confident strides. Sybil’s armor was a silent declaration of authority that parted the crowd before them.

Elysian’s eyes darted from side to side, drinking in unfamiliar sights. This wasn’t the Ironspire he knew. Gone were the polished facades and manicured gardens of the noble quarter. Here, buildings lean precariously, their walls pockmarked with age and neglect. Windows, those that weren’t boarded up, stared blankly like tire eyes.

The streets teemed with life, but not the kind Elysian was accustomed to. People shuffled past in threadbare clothes, patches upon patches barely holding the fabric together. A pungent odor assaulted his nostrils—unwashed bodies, rotting garbage, and something indefinably sour.

A child, barefoot and hollow-cheeked, darted between adults, clutching a half—eaten apple to her chest. An old man huddled in a doorway, his rheumy eyes following their passage with disinterest.

With each step, Elysian felt a weight settling on his shoulders. Numbers on parchment flashed through his mind—budgets he’d glanced at, reports he’d delegated. They seemed barren now, in the face of this raw reality.

A lump formed in his throat. His fingers twitched, longing to reach out, to do something, anything. But what? The vastness of the problem yawned before him, a chasm couldn’t traverse for now.

“Master:” Osric’s voice cut through his reverie. “Are you alright?”

Elysian blinked, realizing he’d stopped walking. He found Osric studying him, concerned in his eyes.

“I’m…” Elysian began, but the words died on his lips. How could he be alright, when his people suffered so? He swallowed hard, forcing his feet to move again. “I’m fine,” he lied, his voice barely above a whisper. But the tightness in his chest and the new determination glinting in his eyes told a different story.