Still, he had a bone to pick with the one who decided to toss young adults into a war. There was an obvious answer to his issue, though, and he was aware. Young adults are far more capable and expendable than their elders. Plus, no one batted an eye unless it was a noble who died. If Ryelan met his demise in a battle, he’d be held as a martyr and a hero to the country. If Matiz on the other hand was killed, no mention of him would arise. Though, who would put their trust into foolish children? Especially when it was to win a war.
He pinched the bridge of his nose, grumbling softly under his breath as he made his way to see where they were heading. “We’re in Car fourteen, I believe.” He spoke, turning to Matiz so that the other could hear him. He might be able to turn into a weapon but he’s not a solider, too compassionate. His thoughts drifted for a moment, but he didn’t get to completely zone out as a voice rang out, telling them to board the car. He sighed heavily, walking up and entering the cart. There were a few lords’ children in the cart, none whom he had ever been interested in speaking with, but lords nonetheless. The noise of the crowd outside seemed to dim down as he made his way towards a seat that was in a section rather vacant.
Taking off his glasses, the boy cleaned them off quickly, adjusting the pair back over his eyes as he shook his head. As much swordsmanship as he possessed, he still felt like being sent to fight a war was something he shouldn't have to do. “If diplomats are paid for their job, they should be able to stop a war.” He hissed under his breath, glancing over at some girl near them. She was carrying a sword and he snorted softly to himself before looking ahead. This unit was bound to crash and burn.