The Assassin's Seven Principles of Manipulation

Chapter 218: Chapter 214 — CliffFace

Zephyrion’s bones were metal.

Fingers compressed together, shooting forward at incredible speed, they were no different from the thrust of a dagger.

It drove into the sanguine’s neck, bursting out in a spray of blood and gore. The sanguine’s eyes widened, trembling with shock as he clutched his bleeding neck. Zephyrion saw the fading light in his crimson eyes and knew he was finished.

The other sanguine uttered no words. Eyes cold, blood pooled into his arm, morphing into a blade. It flashed forward, slashing toward him.

Zephyrion was a blur as he dipped beneath it, the blade swishing overhead. His fist crashed into the sanguine’s leg. Bone cracked, a low grunt escaping the sanguine. Yet the sanguine’s eyes blazed. He redirected the blade, hacking it down toward Zephyrion.

It met empty air. Zephyrion had already erased the distance, his fist crashing into the sanguine’s throat.

”Urgh! Urgh!”

Choking sounds escaped him as he staggered back several steps. Yet Zephyrion didn’t stop. His arms blurred, striking several points across the sanguine’s body in rapid succession.

His arms fell limply to his sides, his legs giving way beneath him. Zephyrion caught him by the throat before he could collapse, slamming him against a tree.

Bang!

His arm shot forward, driving into the center of the sanguine’s chest before pinching.

”A-ahhhh... urrrggg!”

An agonizing scream tore from the sanguine. His arms trembled as he tried to move, yet they refused to respond. Zephyrion barely reacted. His earlier attacks had crushed the tendons, ligaments, and nerves controlling the arms and legs. Unless given time to heal, he would be unable to use them.

As for healing with blood, where Zephyrion currently pinched in his chest sent excruciating pain coursing through his entire body, so much that he could barely think, let alone visualize. He wouldn’t be able to use his element.

Zephyrion pinched harder.

The sanguine’s screams ripped through the night. Yet Zephyrion’s eyes remained cold, his hold absolute. He promised he’d make his death painful. He meant every word.

”P-ple-ase... t-th-is... a-a... te-test.”

The sanguine barely managed to force the words out.

Zephyrion clamped down harder on his throat.

A test. He had known that since last night when they were fed Marrowmint. Still, it changed nothing. The Sanguine had touched something he wasn’t supposed to. He would pay the price.

”P-plea-se...”

Zephyrion watched as the light slowly faded from the sanguine’s eyes. Then it vanished, and the sanguine went limp. He waited several seconds, ensuring he was dead. Only after he felt the final beat of his heart did he release his grip. The sanguine’s body slumped lifelessly before him.

He took a few moments to steady his breathing before crouching over the corpse, examining it.

’I was right.’

On the back of his left wrist was a brand of a hammer striking a skull. The mark of a prisoner. He checked the second corpse and found the same brand. They were prisoners, likely brought out to test them in exchange for reduced sentences.

Given everything they’d been put through all week, Zephyrion could easily imagine the purpose of the test. Regardless, there was no doubt this was a good opportunity for him.

He rummaged through both corpses and found two daggers. Fastening them to his waist, he rose and peered toward the west, where he’d seen them heading.

Exhaling softly, he broke into a sprint.

Unfortunately, to maintain the appearance of being unable to use his element, Zephyrion had to keep to the same pace he’d shown on the academy’s first day. About an hour and a half later, he crested a hill. Concealed within the tall grass, he overlooked the structure below.

A towering cliff face split by a massive crevice. A cave.

Two sanguines stood guard at the entrance, leaning casually against the stone wall. Zephyrion lowered his body temperature, masking his scent.

Then he vanished into the night.

”I swear, these Ferran brats are soft as hell. A little screaming and half of them already broke down crying.”

”Well, whose fault’s that? Their shitty parents babied ’em their whole lives. What else were they gonna grow into? A bunch of pussies.”

”Man, I know we’re doing this for a reduced sentence, but I ain’t complaining. Watching ’em squirm is fucking hilarious. One of ’em even shit himself.”

”Urgh, seriously? Tuah! That’s fucking vile.”

”Hahaha! Aw, c’mon. It’s just one little shit. That’s funny!”

”Funny? The little bastard should’ve died from embarrassment.”

”Haha...” A brief silence passed. ”Y’know who I’d really like to see break? That Lightning Prince brat. Always acting all calm and untouchable on those screens. I’d pay to watch him beg. Shame he fell.”

”That’d be a tough one.” His voice lowered. ”Couple of us jumped him in his room just ’cause we wanted to beat the shit out of him. Kid got it worse than anybody else. Didn’t make a sound. Didn’t even look like he felt it.”

”The hell? Seriously?”

”I’m telling you, that kid’s a devil. A pissing devil. Speaking of piss... I’ve gotta take one.”

”Don’t take all night. Shift’s almost over.”

”Yeah, yeah.”

The sanguine sauntered toward a bush swallowed by darkness, whistling as he relieved himself.

”Ahh... that feels goo—”

A hand clamped over his mouth, a blade driving straight into his heart from behind. His body jerked as he struggled to scream, to make any sound at all, yet Zephyrion simply twisted the blade.

A moment later, the sanguine went limp.

Zephyrion silently dragged him into the dense scrub.

Several moments passed before the other sanguine scoffed.

”The hell’s taking you so long? You trying to piss out a damn river or what?”

The sanguine frowned when no answer came.

”Hm? The hell, Joss? I’m talking to ya.”

No answer.

”Joss?”

The sanguine squinted toward the dark patch, his expression hardening.

”Oi! If this is your idea of a joke, it ain’t funny!”

Still no answer.

His frown deepened as he approached the scrub. Once he got within a few steps, he peered into the darkness.

”Joss?”

He suddenly sniffed, his eyes widening.

”This... blood?”

A blur flashed out of the darkness, appearing behind him.

”W-what...?”

A spray of blood burst from the sanguine’s neck as his head flew.

Expressionless, Zephyrion sheathed his dagger. He dragged the corpse into the scrub, then covered the bloodstains with sand.

Done, he slowly approached the crevice, peering into its depths. He focused on the air, feeling it bounce off the walls as it flowed deeper into the cave.

’It’s large.’

Larger than he’d expected.

Thinking about it now, it made sense, considering the hundreds being held there. Sensing no one nearby, he entered.