The Assassin's Seven Principles of Manipulation

Chapter 280: Chapter 275 — Talks

The air was oppressive.

The Three CC, a general in charge of millions, a drunken madman, and a man considered one of the ten strongest on the continent. And in addition to them, a man who stood at the pinnacle of the Ferran Church, second only to the Voice of the Iron Father, along with the head of the Blade of the Ferran Church.

Currently gathered in one place were these extreme and exalted figures. If not for his strength, Rathen doubted he would have even been able to breathe properly, much less remain hovering in the air.

’This...’

Rathen was frightened. In his mind, he could already picture the endless carnage, death, and destruction that could follow. Kastor was a no-nonsense man, Garrick even more so, while Garaxe was known to be utterly brutal when the situation called for it. The three brothers were not men known for patience.

Then there was the head of House Sarakhel.

It had always been difficult to tell how the devil’s mind worked, only that it did. Even actions of his that initially seemed insignificant had a habit of producing consequences far greater than seemingly more decisive moves.

Rathen couldn’t help but suspect that Severin might have foreseen the Three CC’s arrival, which only begged the question of why the hell he had still done it.

’Does he want war?’

Rathen shuddered at the thought. Severin was not particularly known for his battle strength, which was why Valdris had become his weapon, but his mind was another matter entirely.

Rathen had never met anyone more manipulative or cunning. If that man truly wanted war, the entire empire could be embroiled in chaos before anyone even understood what he was trying to accomplish.

Rathen held his breath. Somewhere along the way, he hadn’t even realized that he’d shoved his anger aside. The severity of the situation simply demanded his full attention.

As the seconds stretched, the head of House Sarakhel smiled.

”Kastor... what a pleasant surprise. It’s good to see you, old friend. And you even brought your brothers.” Severin’s gaze drifted leisurely between them. ”Grand Marshal Garaxe. Garrick. My, my, warriors of the Iron Father gathered together beneath the same moon. What a wonderful sight.”

His tone was casual, almost conversational, completely at odds with the suffocating atmosphere surrounding them. He might as well have been discussing the weather.

”But...” Severin frowned lightly. ”Why the unpleasant faces? Surely something hasn’t happened to ruin such a lovely reunion?”

’This bastard...’

Rathen’s eyes sharpened. Somehow, the anger he’d shoved aside came surging back at full force. Severin had literally just blackmailed him into turning a blind eye to the situation, and now the bastard was standing there pretending he had absolutely no idea what was going on.

Still, his reaction wasn’t nearly as important as the head of House Calderalth’s. Rathen quickly turned towards him, curious to see how Kastor would respond.

Strangely enough, Kastor didn’t even look at Severin. His gaze remained fixed directly on Rathen.

”Garaxe,” he said a moment later.

”Yes.” Garaxe nodded before turning towards Rathen.

”High General Rathen.”

At the call, Rathen instinctively straightened and struck a fist against his chest. Grand Marshal was the highest military rank anyone in the empire could ever attain, placing Garaxe in command of an entire region’s military forces. There was nothing but respect in Rathen’s voice as he answered.

”Yes, Grand Marshal!”

”It has come to our attention that a rule has been broken here in the academy. Cadet Malach is receiving assistance from the Northern House Commander, Major Rhydan Sarakhel.

”Malach is a cadet. He’s young, foolish, and apparently desperate enough to cheat, so we’re willing to overlook his involvement, provided it never happens again. Major Rhydan, however, has no such excuse.

”He is a major of the Ferran Empire, a man whose rank demands discipline and whose loyalty should be beyond question. Instead, he has undermined generations of work put into this academy and disregarded the efforts of thousands of cadets who earned their place here fairly, jeopardizing their futures in the process.

”What he has done is not merely against academy rules. It is a betrayal of his rank and duty to the empire.” Garaxe paused briefly, his expression unchanging. ”For that, there must be punishment.”

Another brief pause.

”We want his head.”

A deep silence followed.

Rathen’s expression darkened. Rhydan wasn’t from the primary line, but he was close enough, supposedly a distant nephew of Severin. Whether that heartless devil possessed even the slightest notion of familial affection was questionable, but his ego was another matter entirely. Severin was not the kind of man who would tolerate anything that could stain the reputation of his house.

As Rathen racked his brain for a response beneath the oppressive silence, Severin frowned lightly. Kastor had practically disregarded him with that move, addressing Rathen through Garaxe as though Severin wasn’t even there.

But the frown lasted only a moment before an easy smile returned to his face. Valdris, however, was different. The air around him grew noticeably heavier.

”Broken rules, hmm...” Severin murmured, leisurely stroking his neatly trimmed beard before his eyes seemed to widen in realization.

”Ah... so that’s what this is about. Though I confess, I’m struggling to understand the outrage. Shouldn’t something like this be encouraged by both the academy and the empire?

”The world will hardly play fair with our descendants, so what exactly are we teaching them if not to use every advantage available to achieve their goals? Surely everyone here can appreciate the importance of that.”

He paused, his gaze settling on Kastor as his smile took on an almost sympathetic quality. ”Or could it be... you’re simply upset your spawn didn’t think of it first? Come now, Kastor, there’s no need to look so grim. Some children simply take a little longer for their intelligence to blossom.”

A loud bark of laughter immediately erupted from Garrick. He stared at Severin as one might stare at something pitiful.