The Useless Prince Is A Gangster
Chapter 127. Meeting of Pillar’s

Chapter 127: 127. Meeting of Pillar’s

Leo sat across from Duke Alric, his red eyes narrowing, a storm growing inside as he took in the shocking news. His casual yawn stopped, voice sharp with disbelief. "What do you mean Sir Serion’s dead? He’s one of the strongest in the damn kingdom, and you’re telling me someone killed him?"

Slowly, Alric put his glasses down and rubbed his temple as if he were trying to relieve a headache. "Someone killed Sir Serion," he said in a low, gruff voice filled with grief and rage. He slid a letter with a broken wax seal bearing the royal crest of the kingdom across the desk.

Leo grasped the letter with a tightened jaw and a burning sense of frustration. After looking over the paper, he saw that Serion Helcrast, the most intelligent investigator in the kingdom, had disappeared two days prior and had been discovered at the outskirts of an unnamed town with a deep cut across his throat and bruises all over his body.

He tossed the letter back, frowning hard, voice rough with annoyance. "One day," he muttered, leaning back, running a hand through his messy red hair. "Can’t I get one damn day to rest without the world falling apart?"

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, red eyes locking onto Alric’s. "What do you think, Father? Who could’ve done this?"

Alric’s face darkened, he opened a drawer, pulling out a sealed envelope with Serion’s neat, unmistakable writing, addressed to Duke Alric Caulem. "What else?" he said. "Serion died chasing the Black Sheep in the academy."

He handed the envelope to Leo, moving carefully, like passing something dangerous. "I wanted you to have a few days to recover after... everything," Alric added, tone hesitant, a father’s worry clashing with a lord’s duty. "But we have no choice now."

Leo read the letter with a furrowed brow. It was all Serion: a vague update on his work, sardonic greetings to a friend, and no specifics.

"This is nothing," Leo said, looking up and throwing the letter back with a bewildered tone. "Just his typical bullshit."

Alric’s lips twisted into a bitter grin, a flash of humor piercing the dense atmosphere. "Oh, there is a lot in that letter, Leonhardt." Leo’s puzzlement increased, his eyes narrowing as Alric gestured for the letter.

Leo slid it over, watching Alric pull a small vial of blue liquid from a locked drawer. "That cunning bastard Serion," Alric muttered, admiration and grief mixing in his voice. "You think they gave him the title of royal investigator for fun?"

He poured the liquid into a shallow silver dish, with careful hands, Alric spread the letter over the dish, letting the liquid soak into the paper. The paper shook, edges splitting, like two sheets had been fused by some magic trick. Leo leaned forward, breath catching, as Alric’s fingers peeled the layers apart with steady care, revealing a hidden page beneath. The faint ink pulsed with secrets, barely visible content.

Leo’s eyes widened, a chill running through him as he caught glimpses. "What the hell..." he whispered.

______

In the dark, cavernous meeting room, carved from cold stone, a large circular table dominated the space, surrounded by six chairs, five occupied by the cult’s pillars.

Ashern was seated in the main seat, a jagged obsidian chair that resembled a throne, his pale face a mask of serene menace, his head resting languidly on his hand, half asleep. The pillars of the cult were seated in the remaining four seats: Erisval, Pillar of Chaos, silent and melancholy; Velkara, Pillar of Decay, her piercing gaze piercing the darkness; Vexira Nehzareth, Pillar of Void, a giant; and Draven, Pillar of Treachery, his eyes burning with barely contained rage.

One chair stayed empty, its absence like a nagging itch in the room’s heavy quiet.

Draven’s patience broke, his voice a low, angry growl that echoed off the walls. "Where the fuck is he?"

Velkara’s tone was calm, almost bored, but her eyes held a warning. "He’ll come, please be patient."

Vexira slumped in his chair, shaking the table, whining like a kid despite his huge frame. "I’m starving," he groaned, so different from his dangerous look.

Erisval remained still, his ominous silence akin to an impending storm. The final pillar, Pillar of Strength, entered through the creaking heavy iron door, his face obscured by a simple black mask that devoured the light. He dropped into the empty chair with a lazy confidence that annoyed the others, and his steps had a cocky swagger, as if he owned the room. Draven’s voice was abrasive and foul, and his eyes narrowed. "Strength, what kept you? Too preoccupied with something to arrive on time?

Strength tilted his masked head, voice full of smug amusement. "Having a damn good time with a girl. Gods, she’s a firecracker." He leaned forward, tone teasing, taunting. "Sexy as hell, too."

Draven’s rage burst, his fist slamming the table, cracking the iron, his voice a roar. "Stop fucking around!" His calm was gone, eyes blazing with fury.

Draven’s anger erupted, causing him to slam the table, crack the iron, and roar in his voice. "Stop playing around!" His eyes were burning with rage, and he had lost his composure.

Strength leaned back and laughed mockingly, unconcerned. "Calm down, Treachery. You can enjoy yourself with your girl as well! Oh, hold on. Pretending to think, he paused with his hand on his masked chin. "I heard your bitch was butchered by the Ruler." What was her name? Sylo? That’s tragic, dammit. His sarcastic chuckle pierced Draven’s hardly suppressed rage.

The other pillars shifted, tension spreading. Velkara’s voice cut through, calm but firm. "Silence, both of you." Her sharp gaze flicked to Ashern, wary of his power. A fight here, under his watch, would be disastrous.

Strength leaned closer to Draven, whispering to provoke him. "Can’t even handle two brats who strolled into your prison, and you think you’re the boss here?"

Velkara’s tone stayed even, but her eyes were daggers. "You failed to kill the Ruler too, Strength. And your blunder locked the divine subject in the hunting cage."

Strength’s voice sharpened, his cool act cracking. "That was my idiot underling acting without orders. I killed him for it. The vessel and divine subjects are safe, no thanks to you lot."

Draven sneered, voice bitter. "Still a fucking loser."

Strength shot back, "Not more than—" His words stopped as Ashern raised one hand, a gentle move that froze the room like a deadly shadow. Every pillar snapped to attention, breaths held, fear and respect locking their eyes on the High Priest.

Ashern’s pale eyes opened fully, shining with a cold, eerie menace.

His voice was quiet, almost slack, but it had a force that dispelled arguments. "I might not make it through the year because my body’s failing. I don’t want to listen to your juvenile arguments during my last days. Draven and Strength recoiled in silence as Ashern’s strength sucked their anger away.

His tone was sharp and slow as he turned to Strength. "The new vessel. Is it prepared?

Despite the pressure, Strength’s voice remained steady as he sat up. "Lord Priest, your vessel has been meticulously prepared. She has an unmatched mana capacity."

Ashern’s lips curved into a cold, hunter-like smirk, satisfaction in his eyes. "Good. Our centuries-long plan is finally bearing fruit."

Velkara leaned forward. "When will they capture her?"

Strength’s masked head tilted, confidence strong. "Everything’s arranged, as planned. We just need the cooperative pieces in place."

Erisval spoke at last, voice a low, chilling rumble that seemed to scratch the air. "I’ve secured it. Most noble houses are under our control now."

Velkara’s eyes gleamed, a hunter sensing prey. "Then shall we eliminate the Ruler and the Light?"

Ashern’s chuckle was dark, like a far-off storm. "Oh, let’s begin the game."

Back at Caulem Manor, Leo sat in the duke’s office, the hidden letter from Serion open before him, its coded secrets now written on a fresh sheet of paper. A cold smirk curled his lips. "Start the game," he muttered, voice low and dangerous, "and I’ll be the wild card."