The Assassin's Seven Principles of Manipulation

Chapter 186: Chapter 182 — Betty

With an impassive expression, the maid Betty returned to her room under the quiet of the night. As the door closed, she smiled and muttered under her breath;

”Finally...”

She felt relieved. She had spent almost a year spying on Zephyrion, and now everything was about to bear fruit.

As she walked towards her bed and sat down, Betty laughed.

She had merely reported Zephyrion and Lumi’s unusual closeness to the church. Who would have thought the little girl was actually a criminal?

Lumi’s identity had already been known for months. The church had simply waited for Zephyrion’s popularity to peak amongst the people. After all, the higher they were, the harder they fell.

From what she’d heard, Zephyrion had fallen headfirst into the trap and called for a tribunal, just as they had expected. Now, after tomorrow, the famous Lightning Prince would be no more, only an enemy of the Iron Father. An enemy of the Ferran Empire.

Betty exhaled slowly. This was the fate of everyone who stood against the church.

”Praise be to the Iron Father.”

A moment later, Betty approached a hidden compartment tucked into the corner of the room. She opened it. It was empty.

Betty frowned.

The miniature statue of the Iron Father and faith sigil should have been here. She checked again. Then another compartment. Then another.

All of them were empty.

Betty stood motionless in the middle of the room, her brows deeply furrowed.

Someone had gotten to them...

She left the room hurriedly, her thoughts racing. Had she been discovered? If so, by whom? And if they had discovered her, why hadn’t they done anything yet?

Betty had already reached the backyard of the mansion before her steps slowed.

’They can’t.’

She forced herself to think. All she kept in the room was the Iron Father’s statue and the Ferran faith sigil. Though her loyalty was with the Sarakhel, it could not easily be proven.

Betty nodded to herself. Running now would only make her look guilty. No. It was better to return and feign ignorance. She could even report the missing items herself and take the initiative.

The more she thought about it, the calmer she became. Betty exhaled. Reaching this conclusion, she smiled, turned around, and began walking back towards the mansion.

Thack!

Something slammed into the back of her neck. Darkness swallowed her vision.

...

Betty’s eyes snapped open amid the hammering pain in her head.

She was somehow hanging upside down by one leg. It was hot. So hot her body was drenched in sweat, thin rivulets trickling across her skin.

”W-what... what is this...”

The chain rattled as she twisted helplessly, trying to make sense of her surroundings.

A large furnace blazed behind her, radiating waves of scorching heat. An anvil stood before her. Resting atop it was a metal ingot glowing with a molten orange light.

A forge.

How in the world had she ended up in a forge?

”Betty.”

The coldness of the voice froze her in place.

A figure stepped out from the darkness ahead. His purple eyes were icy, seemingly capable of lowering the temperature of the room through sheer presence alone.

”Y-young l-lord...?”

Color drained from Betty’s face. The young lord? He was responsible for this? Betty went rigid. She knew exactly what this was. The Sarakhel had gone after him, and now he was searching for their spy. Somehow, he had hit the bullseye.

But Betty could never admit to that. She had to feign ignorance.

At the end of the day, he was only seventeen years old. No matter how talented he was, he was still a boy. He wouldn’t be able to stomach torture, especially not when it involved an elderly woman like her.

”I’m going to ask you some questions. I want honest answers.”

”Y-young lord...” Betty stammered. ”I-I don’t understand what’s happening. Why am I in chains? What is this place?”

Zephyrion stared at her for several long seconds. His gaze was hollow. Emotionless. Under it, Betty found herself instinctively abandoning several of the expressions she had prepared.

Then Zephyrion nodded. With a casual wave of his hand, the molten ingot lifted from the anvil.

Betty froze.

”You’re at least seventy.” Zephyrion said calmly. ”Yet you barely have any wrinkles. Your clothes are always neat. Always perfectly ironed. You care about your appearance.”

The ingot slowly drifted toward her.

”You take care of yourself.”

Closer.

”Your appearance... it’s your pride.”

The color drained further from Betty’s face.

”Y-young lord...?”

The ingot continued forward.

”What are you doing...?”

For the first time, genuine panic entered her voice.

”Stop!”

The ingot seemed to disappear. All Betty felt was something impossibly hot touch her face. Then the world exploded into pain.

”AAAHHHHHHH!”

Her scream tore through the night. Zephyrion watched silently, his eyes like ice.

It was going to be a long night.

...

”There you are.”

Garrick materialized atop the roof of Calderalth’s main building. Ahead of him, a lone man stood with his robe billowing in the night wind.

”Where the hell have you been? Do you have any idea what’s happening right now?”

Garrick strode forward and stopped beside him.

Below them, thousands of small lights sprawled across the horizon. People. People who had come to support the Sarakhel. Compared to this morning, the crowd had multiplied several times over.

Garrick frowned. Several seconds passed. No response. He turned towards Kastor, only for his frown to deepen.

His eyes were the coldest Garrick had ever seen. A faint thumping seemed to ripple through the air around him.

The sight instantly reminded Garrick of his brother on the battlefield, charging alone against the overwhelming numbers of the Pyrians.

His heart involuntarily tightened.

”Brother.” Garrick said. ”We should stop taking this nonsense. You, me, Garaxe... we should remind people why Calderalth exists. We should go to war if we have to. With the empire. With the entire damn continent. The three of us can handle it.”

Kastor didn’t respond.

Garrick exhaled through his nose.

”What the hell is holding you back? Do you really want us to stand here and smile while they spit in our faces? We are Calderalth. Since when did we start tolerating this bullshit?”