31 Elyir's Plight

Inside a very large hall in a corner of the capital city of Assyria, a large number of people, which consisted of both males and females numbering in the thousands, stood anxiously in the large hall, silently discussing the current turn of events that occurred in their kingdom.

The thousands of people were, of course, the poor citizens of Assyria. They had formed smaller groups and were animatedly discussing the state of their kingdom. The current topic of discussion was the large-scale slaughter Alexander ordered on the nobles, as well as the current direction the kingdom was going to take in its development.

In one of such groups animatedly discussing stood a group of five young men barely above the age of sixteen talking to one another, the expressions on their faces incredibly perplexing. From the way they conversed with one another, it was evident that they were a tight-knit group.

"Assyria is doomed!" One of the members of the group lamented to his friends in a dejected tone. He stood at a modest height, but his body was sculpted with strength and power. His hair was a sleek, ebony shade, cropped short, and perfectly styled. It rested atop a face that, while lacking any striking features, possessed a certain understated charm.

"You might just be right, Van." Dali, another of the members in the group, agreed in the same dejected tone. He stood at the same height as Van, the one who had spoken moments ago, and boasted a striking resemblance to Van with his short, jet-black hair. The striking contrast between Van and him was that he possessed an undeniable handsomeness that surpassed even Van's own appearance.

"I was totally convinced that useless crown prince Alexander had finally turned a new leaf when he protected us from the invaders." One of the young men added, a sad expression appearing on his attractive face. He was also short and had red hair and a lean physique.

Oh, he did change Zir." The fourth member of the group spoke with a monotone voice, devoid of any emotion, as he absentmindedly toyed with a polished stone, its smooth surface gliding effortlessly between his fingers. He bore a similar appearance to the young man with the red hair and lean physique and was short as well.

"My Uncle Indu is a soldier in the Assyrian military, and he told me the stories of how he fought fiercely against the invaders alongside the crown prince, but now it seems that it was just a facade to fool us."

"Idris . . . " Zir tried to say something but trailed off the moment he stared at Idris' face, which was devoid of any emotion.

"I think he did change." The fourth member of the group, now identified as Idris, continued to speak.

"He changed from an incompetent crown prince to a mindless murderer."

"And that's not where it ends."

"What is to say that he did not order for us to be gathered here so that he could just kill us all?" Idris asked in a cold voice, his face completely devoid of any emotion.

"In this war-ridden continent, he could do as he wished in this remote and weak kingdom, and not a single soul would care." Idris concluded, finally staring at Van, Zir, and the two other members of the group with an impassive expression on his face.

There was a minute of silence after Idris completed his statements, as his words had sent chills down the spines of the members of the group.

"You're wrong, Idris." A voice suddenly spoke, shattering the bone-chilling silence that Idris' words had brought to the group.

The members of the group all turned to stare at the owner of the voice, and their faces all had a stunned expression on them.

The owner of the voice possessed a tall stature and a well-built physique, complemented by a head of dark brown hair that framed a face that could be described as ordinary in appearance. However, the most prominent feature on his face was a scar that ran all the way from his left eye to his chin.

"Why do you think so, Elyir?" Idris asked, his voice as monotone as ever.

"Did you forget that the people our crown prince massacred were vile nobles?" Elyir, the scarred young man, seethed with grief and anger as he spat out his words, his eyes burning with intensity, fixed on Idris.

"Have you forgotten how I got this scar on my face?" Elyir spat angrily, his voice dripping with icy disdain, as the four members of the group cowered in silence.

"Let me remind you all."

"Viscount Henry did this to me. He wanted to kidnap my only sister to give his bastard friend Earl Gerid, but I resisted and tried to fight him off." Elyir gritted his teeth as he spoke, his expression ugly from remembering such an unpleasant event.

"As a result, he ordered his guards to beat me within an inch of my life before telling them to permanently mar my face so that I would never entertain the thought of disobeying any noble again." Elyir's voice dripped with sorrow and fury as he locked his gaze on his friends.

"Why on earth would I then be bothered about those despicable nobles deaths?" How many more crimes have they committed against weak and powerless Assyrian citizens like us?" Elyir asked, and traces of anger and hatred were very evident in his voice.

"Crown Prince Alexander did not care about us before, but that has changed in recent times. Just his act of ridding Assyria of its despicable tumor has won me his eternal respect."

"He has given my dead sister closure by exacting justice for her." Elyir said, and tears could be seen pooling at the edge of his eyes.

"Therefore, in the military enrollment that is coming up next month, I will join the Assyrian military and serve Crown Prince Alexander wholeheartedly." Elyir concluded, his brown irises burning with grief and anger as he stared icily at Idris and the rest of his friends.

Idris remained silent for a bit after listening to Elyir's pitiable plight. Just as he was about to speak, a loud bugle horn sounded, and the loud chattering in the town hall immediately ceased.

The next moment, a figure whose presence commanded attention appeared. He was adorned in opulent black and gold silk robes, his presence sending shivers down the spines of the Assyrian citizens who awaited his arrival.

Two powerful warriors wearing the distinctive Assyrian armor followed him closely, and the crown prince's expression was surprisingly charismatic.

"His Royal Highness, Crown Prince Alexander, has arrived!" A loud voice announced Alexander's arrival, sending everyone present into a maelstrom of anticipation and uncertainty.