The Assassin's Seven Principles of Manipulation

Chapter 80: Chapter 78 — Treasury

The next day, Zephyrion walked behind Garrick as they made their way toward the main building.

”Ahh... yesterday was too good. Been a while since anything got my heart racing like that. Haha... you saw my message, right?”

Zephyrion briefly recalled the heart shaped letter and its misleading words, and frowned slightly.

”...I did.”

”Haha! Good. This uncle might not have much, but when I see talent, I take care of it. Don’t worry.”

”...thank you.”

”It’s nothing, kid.”

Garrick continued laughing as they walked, and Zephyrion used the brief moment to sort through his thoughts.

Garrick’s elixir had been unexpected, and through the night, he had used it to fully clear the fog around the fifth mark. By tomorrow, he should step into mark five.

Only those considered true prodigies, monsters, reached mark five at seventeen. Though he had once stood above them in the eyes of the world, he was now approaching that level again.

’Let’s deal with this first.’

Zephyrion drew himself out of his thoughts as they descended the stairs of the main building.

After a few days, he had decided it was time to make use of his visit to the treasury.

Soon after, they reached a wide basement and found Kastor and Garaxe already waiting by an inconspicuous wall.

”Head of house.”

”Stand.”

As Zephyrion straightened from his bow, he found Kastor’s gaze silently fixed on him.

”...Uncle Garaxe.”

”Zephyrion. Good to see you.”

”Likewise.”

”Can we skip this? Let’s get to it.”

Kastor and Garaxe both turned toward their brother, their gazes sharpening.

”...you can leave.”

”What are you doing here, Garrick?”

”Leave? After I’ve been following him all week? Not a chance.”

”...”

”...”

”...”

All three fell silent. There wasn’t even a trace of shame on Garrick’s face.

”...are you ready?”

Zephyrion turned to his father and bowed.

”Yes, head of house.”

”Y—”

Something flickered in Kastor’s gaze for a brief moment before he exhaled.

”...alright.”

”Heh.”

”Ahem.”

Garrick and Garaxe looked at him with a knowing gaze, shaking their heads, but Kastor’s heavy glare cut them off at once.

”...follow me.”

A moment later, Kastor stepped toward the wall at the far end and placed his palm against it.

As his eyes closed, the world seemed to fall into complete silence.

Zephyrion’s brows furrowed. It was faint, but unmistakable. Every shred of metal in the air trembled under an unseen force.

Even if he tried, he knew he wouldn’t be able to wrest control over any of it.

’Is it... him?’

His gaze sharpened as it settled on his father.

’...what?’

Beads of sweat had formed along Kastor’s forehead, his expression strained. Zephyrion’s attention shifted back to the inconspicuous wall. For something to push a member of the Ten Thrones this far...

Suddenly, the metal around Kastor’s arm rippled, then split apart, revealing a pathway that descended into abyssal darkness.

Kastor let out a slow breath before turning to Zephyrion.

”...you’re only allowed to take one thing. Anything you can carry. Understood?”

”Yes, head of house.”

”...”

Kastor held Zephyrion’s gaze for several seconds before giving a small gesture toward the opening.

”...go.”

As Zephyrion stepped through and disappeared into the darkness, Garrick burst into laughter.

”Haha—no, that was too good! What? You don’t want him calling you ’head of house’ anymore? What is it now—’father’? ’dad’?”

”You—”

Kastor’s glare could have pierced through steel, but Garrick paid it no mind, still laughing without restraint.

”...Garrick, enough.”

Garaxe stepped in quickly before things could escalate further.

”Alright, alright, I hear you.”

Straightening up, Garrick threw Kastor an amused look before turning toward the treasury entrance.

”Well then... I’ll just head in.”

Before Garrick could step forward, Garaxe moved and blocked his path.

”What are you doing?”

”What does it look like? I’m going in.”

”...why?”

”Why else? I want to see what the boy picks.”

Garaxe frowned.

”You’re not allowed in there, Garrick.”

”Hmm?” Garrick’s eyes widened. ”...so you’re just going to stand out here and wait?”

”Yes.”

”...you’ve learned nothing, have you?” Garrick’s gaze sharpened, turning serious. ”He could be doing something insane in there right now, and you’re fine missing it?”

”That’s...”

”...so? What do you think?” Garrick turned to Kastor. ”You really want to miss whatever that kid does?”

Kastor’s brows drew together as he fell into thought. He was silent for a moment, then slowly nodded.

”...fine.”

”...wait—what?” Garaxe’s eyes widened in disbelief. To think Kastor had actually agreed...

Garrick grinned.

”Haha! That’s more like it. Come on.”

”Garaxe, stay here.”

”...seriously?”

”Stay.”

As Garrick and Kastor stepped into the treasury, Garaxe remained where he was, staring into the darkness in silence.

”...I wanted to see too...”

Why did he have to be the one left behind?

...

Zephyrion’s vision was swallowed by darkness the moment he stepped inside. A second later, the darkness peeled away, replaced by a blinding light.

When his sight settled, he found himself standing in the middle of a vast hall. Towering shelves stretched across the space, filled with countless gleaming objects arranged in careful order.

’Relics.’

Zephyrion calmly observed his surroundings. Beyond the bounds of the hall, there was nothing but abyssal darkness.

’A pocket space.’

He had encountered places like this during his time in the Order. When one’s control over the elements reached a certain level, forming isolated spaces, pockets, and even achieving teleportation became possible.

As he moved further into the hall, his gaze passed over numerous relics, weapons, and armors... each radiating its own distinct presence. Zephyrion had no doubt about their quality.

He wasn’t certain what to choose yet. Something defensive, something offensive, the ideal would be something that offered both.

For now, he decided to survey the entire hall before making a decision.

As he ventured deeper, his steps slowed when a structure at the far end of the room came into view.

It was a long building segmented into connected rooms, each one sealed by a sleek metallic door.

’Hmm.’

Zephyrion’s gaze lifted to the names inscribed above each entrance.

”Dregos Calderalth.”

”Yolonda Calderalth.”

”Demorian Calderalth.”

The third name made him pause.

’The third head of house.’

The same figure said to have been born with the complete metal rune... just like him.