41. The Last Crown Prince of the Crimsonterra Kingdom
The conversation between the two was abruptly interrupted as their attention shifted to the creaking sound of the root-covered door slowly opening. From the mass of gradually parting roots, three young men stepped into the room.
With a bright smile on his face, Kairav immediately rushed toward them. “How are you guys? Did you manage to free the Danyang?” he asked right away.
“What do you think?” Casildo replied sarcastically. “Did you think we were just out there enjoying the sunrise? Couldn’t you hear the explosions or feel the tremors? Are your other senses failing you now, too, Failed Product?!” he grumbled.
“I just wanted to be sure, Dairy Cow!” Kairav snapped back instantly.
Arkana sighed and stepped in to calm the situation. “We’re fine. Everything went smoothly,” he said to Kairav with a small smile.
The dimpled young man nodded, returning the smile. It was then that Juna, the large, quiet man, finally spoke up. “How did you do it earlier?” he asked, still staring at the door, seemingly unable to hide his shock after witnessing Prince Arkana control the roots that had covered it.
“Did you use magic?” Zacky, the bald-headed man, chimed in, equally astonished. His face had turned pale.
Arkana remained composed despite their reactions. Suddenly, from one side of the room, Baron’s voice broke through the silence. He was still sitting casually, enjoying the scene unfolding before him. “So, what are we going to do with these people, Prince Arkana?” he asked, raising one hand.
“These people?” The young prince turned, his expression instantly turning cold as he gazed at the members of the Mystic Plunder Circle.
“Of course, we’ll lock them up until they rot for daring to steal from our kingdom. Or should we sentence them to execution?” He said it calmly but with a chilling undertone.
“Your Highness, please forgive us! We promise never to do it again!” Rio cried out in terror at the prospect of the punishment they might receive.
The bald-headed Zacky also started pleading, which disgusted Casildo, who felt the urge to kick the man’s head. “Please, Your Highness... Please forgive us. We admit our guilt...”
“You’re admitting your guilt now because you’ve been caught red-handed and know what punishment awaits you. But if you had gotten away, I bet you’d still be committing the same crimes!” Kairav spat angrily.
While the members of the Mystic Plunder Circle were busy begging for their lives, the fierce young woman among them remained silent, her gaze never leaving the nameless young man for even a second.
Gavin, who was the first to notice her staring, asked suspiciously, “Psycho girl, why are you staring at him? Aren’t you into Kairav anymore?”
Kairav glanced over at Trisha, quickly realizing what was going on. “Now you’re into the nameless young man?” he asked, his brow furrowed.
Hearing himself mentioned, the nameless young man, who had been standing in the corner of the room, slowly raised his head, looking at the group with an expressionless gaze.
“Untie me. I want to show him something,” Trisha finally spoke.
Casildo smirked widely. “What? A sexy photo of yourself?” he sneered. “Let me tell you, he’s not interested in that kind of thing,” he mocked.
Trisha responded to the insult with a mysterious grin. “What if I told you I’ve seen his face in an ancient manuscript related to the Crimsonterra kingdom? Would he really not be interested at all?” She said, locking eyes with the nameless young man with a haughty stare.
Casildo immediately burst out laughing. “You must be delusional, you tramp,” he jeered.
“He’s been searching for manuscripts, scriptures, even inscriptions about that kingdom for hundreds of years and hasn’t found a single thing. And now, out of nowhere, you, someone with no known background, claim to have an ancient manuscript connected to him?” he said in disbelief.
The nameless young man spoke up calmly from where he stood. “Let her go,” he ordered.
Casildo turned in surprise. “Bro, you seriously believe her?” he asked, incredulous. “I know you’re desperate, but don’t be like this,” he protested.
“If she’s lying, we can always rip her mouth apart,” the dark-eyed young man replied coldly.
Casildo nodded in agreement. “Oh, fair enough,” he said with a shrug.
Following the order, Arkana retracted the tendrils binding the treasure hunters with his Creeping Snare technique. The roots slowly withdrew, leaving the captives standing, their bodies trembling even after being released.
The nameless young man began walking toward Trisha, who pulled out a phone from her jacket pocket and started tapping on it. A smug smile spread across her face as she found what she was looking for and held the phone up to the nameless young man.
“Well? I’m not lying, am I? That’s really you.”
The young man’s lips pressed into a tight line, and his dark, emotionless eyes clouded with melancholy as he looked at the image on the phone.
It was a photo of an ancient painting, faded with time but clearly depicting a young man who looked strikingly similar to him as a teenager, dressed in royal attire from centuries past.
“This painting really looks like you,” Kairav said, shocked, glancing back and forth between the picture and the nameless young man to ensure his eyes weren’t deceiving him.
“Not just looks like him—it is him!” Casildo added, scratching his head in bewilderment.
Prince Arkana turned to Trisha with a serious expression. “Where did you get this?” he asked.
The girl leaned in close to the nameless young man’s ear, whispering with a sly smile, “From our secret vault.” Her grin widened as she savored the changes in the young man’s expression, which grew colder as he struggled to maintain his composure.
Slowly, she began to laugh wickedly. “My boss comes from a family of historians. For generations, it’s been a tradition to pass down ancient artifacts. In their secret vault, they’ve kept many treasures. But the one that caught my eye was a manuscript about the last bloodline of the Crimsonterra kingdom.”
“A tragic crown prince who lost his entire family, crowned as king at a very young age, only to witness the fall of his kingdom,” she said, her hand slowly caressing the nameless young man’s face with a sly smirk. “But I never expected to meet him here, the long-lived human who can control the Phoenix spirit.”
The nameless young man slapped her hand away roughly. “Give me that manuscript,” he demanded.
Trisha’s smile curled into a smirk. “Take me to the stepped pyramid first.”
“She even knows about the stepped pyramid?” Gavin muttered in disbelief.
“What are you looking for there?” the nameless young man asked.
“An important item. If you help me get it, I’ll give you the manuscript.”
Feeling played, the nameless young man drew his sword without hesitation, pressing the sharp edge against Trisha’s throat. “Don’t think I won’t use force,” he warned coldly.
“And you think I fear death?” Trisha replied, her eyes full of disdain.
With a wicked grin and in a quick, unexpected move, Trisha grabbed the blade of the sword with her own hand, pressing it harder against her throat until blood began to trickle from the shallow cut. Blood also flowed from her palm, where the sharp edge had sliced into her flesh.
“Miss, what are you doing?!” Andi screamed, horrified at the sight of his reckless boss.
“This girl is absolutely insane!” Kairav shouted, unable to comprehend her actions.
Despite the blood, there was no fear in her eyes. She continued to stare at the nameless young man with defiance. “Go ahead and kill me, but you’ll lose the manuscript,” she taunted with a sharp grin.
She glanced at her frantic followers. “Don’t expect them to know anything either. My boss only trusted a select few with the manuscript’s whereabouts.”
“Well... I’ve given you the best deal I can offer. I’ll give you the manuscript if you help me get what I’m looking for and guarantee my safety afterward,” she concluded, her gaze locking with the nameless young man’s, which remained cold and unyielding.
Kairav clicked his tongue in frustration. “Tch! Who does she think she is, asking him to protect her?”
“Alright,” came the nameless young man’s quiet response.