High-Class Mob

Chapter 137: Let me rest

“I’ll do it, no, let me do it! This is my chance, older brother, please, let me do it, this is my chance to prove myself!”

Trist held a smile; he would gladly do it for the people and for himself, “Those people had committed such atrocities that are beyond saving. We need to weed them out as soon as possible. This is our duty as Royals!”

Different forms of emotion were birthed in Trist’s heart; hope, happiness, and enthusiasm were said emotions.

Feriar was stunned at the sight of Trist. 

Trist was too happy, too delighted, and also too willing to act in this horrible operation. 

“Trist, do you even know what you’re talking about? Do you really think you would only be punishing them? You would be taking their lives, snuffing out their chances to change. Do you even know how heavy that kind of responsibility is? You have not even killed a single fowl, and you think you’re already capable of this?”

“Why not? I’m already of proper age—”

Colt yawned as he listened to their words. He pulled out the wine he had hidden and poured him some, ‘This is going to take a while.’

He had so many questions that needed answering, but he had no chance of ever getting answered with how the situation stands. He only really wanted to clear every problem in one fell swoop, but not everything was going his way.

‘The Crown Prince is against my idea and is giving me nasty glares, and the Second Prince is ecstatic to do it and giving me shiny eyes…oh how the tables have turned.’

It was just moments earlier when the two had the opposite expressions toward him. It was funny thinking about it. 

The arguing Royals lasted for more than half an hour, and it would have continued if not for Trist turning to Colt, “Young Master Colt, what are you doing? Help me convince this brother of mine into accepting this mission. Don’t just drink wine.”

Colt looked at the pleading Trist and at the fuming Feriar. He sighed as he put down the wineglass, ‘In the end, I was the one who started this.’

He had to end it.

“Princes, if you would, please take a seat once more, and let’s talk about this in a more civilized manner. If we scream at each other, we would not be able to get an answer no matter how long it takes.”

The looked at each other and finally decided to take a seat.

They were both angry, and both were in a situation where they could not decide what they wanted.

“Crown Prince Feriar, I can properly see that you are very much against letting the Second Prince go and take care of it when it is the most optimal way of doing things. If you let him do as he desires and backs him, then everything would be sorted, people may think the Second Prince is gathering achievements, but if you actively pour out your support and the Second Prince public cooperation, then everything would be cleared.”

“That’s right; that’s right; if you let me do this, older brother, then no one would question you, and if we support each other, then we would be able to pull the Nobles to a tighter leash. Even if there are to be holes in the chain of command after killing the Nobles, nothing will get out of hand.”

Both sides have their reasons, and the problem was that Colt could not understand Feriar. 

Earlier, no one was on Colt’s side. Trist was skeptical of him thus the distrust and the Crown Prince was neutral.

However, Trist was now on his side. But that does not mean much if Feriar was to reject his offer. In the end, Colt needed to convince Feriar to accept his proposition.

“Crown Prince, this is for the good of all. I will be willing to do anything and help complete this mission of saving the ones collected by these Nobles.”

Feriar could see that Colt and Trist truly wanted this to happen. But he also had his reasons. He did not wish to accept this. However, the thought of fulfilling his duty entered his mind.

He would become the future King of the Kingdom; it was his duty to fulfill his duties. Feriar’s mind was torn with his responsibilities as the Crown Prince and as a brother.

But he knew he had to make a decision that would benefit the majority.

“I would let you proceed with this; however, I have a condition.”

“…what is it?” Colt was apprehensive.

“I want you to accompany him in doing it. Be by Trist’s side, make sure no harm will come down upon him, I know that if we do this quickly, there would be no danger; however, I still want you to promise me this.”

“I agree.”

“Good, with that out of the way, this meeting shall remain to ourselves. Trist, you are not allowed to inform anyone, even Grant or your Knights. Young Master Colt can only speak of this to Butler Go, who will act as our intermediary. Please notify me when the cure would be finished. We must use the lockdown so no one would be able to escape. In the meantime, I’ll make the necessary preparations. That would be all, dismiss!

Colt did not want to enter the fray, but he would accept it without fail if it was the only way. Feriar and Trist stood up and decided to leave for the night. 

After this, Trist and Feriar would indeed have a long talk with one another. The two left the room, and Colt had Butler Go, who was at his beck and call to prepare the carriage they would take back to the palace.

However, Colt was left with a strange sense of loss. 

Something was missing, something he failed to understand. Trist boarded the carriage with glee, but Feriar didn’t move in haste and stood by Colt for some odd reason.

“Are you not going to board the carriage, your highness?” Colt curiously asked.

“Young Master Colt, I owe my life to Trist’s mother, the Royal Concubine, and I owe Trist her presence.” Feriar, however, gave a completely unrelated answer.

A sudden statement Colt did not expect, but he listened to him nonetheless.

“The Royal Concubine saved my life when I was once attacked by a Magical Beast. At the time, she was pregnant with Trist, but she protected me from the claws of the Beast. The wound weakened her, and three weeks later, she died from giving birth to Trist.

“It could be said that I was the one who killed her. On her deathbed, she asked me to take care of Trist. Do you know why I don’t want for Trist to do this? Not because I want to keep his hand from being tainted by blood, but because there would be many eyes directed at Trist after this. There would be those who would praise him, but there would also be who would hate him. Bandits, Underground Organizations, and even other Nobles. This would endanger Trist’s life—I just hope the Hero of the South would be able to keep him safe after drawing him out to this situation.

“Promise or not, Trist is family, and I’ll protect him without fail. So, you must also protect him as you would do for a King.”

Feriar finally boarded the carriage without waiting for Colt to finish his words. Trist was annoyed. He was but a young man even younger than Colt, 17 years of age, to be exact.

He wanted power and might, and Colt exploited that fault of his. Colt thought that this transaction would be a win-win for every faction.

He even thought he would be reaping the most benefit, but he was wrong. He was on the losing side of things.

“It’s a good thing that I’d be able to complete Goddess Root’s request after this.” 

That was at least a win for him.

Colt turned his back, and Butler Go appeared behind him.

“What is it?” Colt asked.

“A letter arrived from the Lopre. He would be moving your troops as per your order.”

“That is good.” Colt smiled. 

Colt entered the manor when Butler Go suddenly asked, “Young Master, might I know who Avern is?”

“He’s a Necromancer, why do you ask?”

“Nothing, I just read something interesting that was meant for Sera.”

“Oh…” Colt prayed for Avern, “Butler Go, do you know where Fluff and the Chick?”

“They are in your room’s balcony, Young Master, I think the cat is preparing the Chick for roasting…is that normal, Young Master?”

“It’s normal for them, don’t worry.” Colt entered his room, prepared to rest for the day.

But as he opened his doors, ready to collapse on his soft bed, he saw a peculiar sight.

There he saw on the balcony, Yrva, the Ancient Elves’ current leader, was bowing before the Chick.

“Please, tell me your secrets!” Yrva enthusiastically cried out.

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