The Assassin's Seven Principles of Manipulation

Chapter 319: Chapter 314 — Talk

”My friends... aren’t we celebrating a little too early?” A confident smile spread across Cassian’s face. ”The exercise isn’t over yet.”

Garrick scoffed. ”Oh, don’t tell me there’s another delusional father in the room.”

Cassian laughed. Though he was a member of the Ten Thrones, and technically of a higher status than Garrick himself, he had never been the type to care about something so trivial.

”Delusional? I’d say that describes you rather well.” Cassian smiled. ”Arcturus walked into an enemy fortress alone and took it by himself. Your boy, impressive as he is, needed schemes, tricks, and mind games to accomplish the same. Intelligence is useful, Garrick, but there comes a point where no amount of thinking will save you from a fist.”

Sitting silently beside Cassian, Torvak Kharadun gave a curt nod, clearly sharing the same opinion.

Garrick stared at Cassian for a moment. ”...You actually think Zephyrion is going to lose?”

”I don’t think so.” Cassian smiled. ”I know so.”

Garrick chuckled, slowly shaking his head. ”Oh, now you’ve fucking done it. How about we make this interesting?”

Cassian raised a brow. ”...Hm?”

”If Arcturus wins, I’ll be your slave for an entire year.” Garrick leaned back comfortably in his seat. ”Whatever you say, I do. No complaints, no excuses. Anything.”

”Garrick, maybe—”

Garrick met Garaxe’s eyes and gave him a look that immediately made it clear he didn’t want him interfering.

Cassian’s brows furrowed slightly, finally realizing Garrick was completely serious. Although the idea of Arcturus losing seemed almost impossible to him, he still asked, ”Fine. And when Zephyrion loses, I get a slave. What exactly do you want if some miracle happens and your boy wins?”

Garrick smiled.

”You perform the Eryndor’s full rune art in front of Zephyrion.”

Cassian’s eyes narrowed.

The Eryndor’s secret rune art, Metal Dance. An art that made the Erydor warriors unmatched when it came to pure battle sense.

For several seconds, he said nothing, carefully weighing the terms in his head. Garrick had specifically said perform. He wasn’t asking Cassian to teach Zephyrion the art or reveal its secrets, only to perform it in front of him.

In that case, there was hardly anything to consider.

Especially when Cassian didn’t believe for even a second that Zephyrion stood a chance.

”What say you, Kastor?” Cassian turned towards him. ”You don’t mind lending me your brother for a year, do you?”

Without the slightest hesitation, Kastor shook his head.

”He won’t be your slave. You’ll lose.”

”Good! Good!” Cassian broke into a wide grin. ”And somehow I’m the delusional one?”

He nodded several times before turning back towards Garrick.

”Very well. I accept.”

Cassian and Garrick clasped hands, both men grinning confidently at each other, each looking as though the outcome had already been decided.

Then, as their hands separated, silence gradually returned to the room.

With Malach defeated and the Kharadun heir already out of the running, only one clash remained.

Zephyrion Calderalth Vs Arcturus Aur Eryndor.

And with the two houses now placing their own wager on the outcome, the anticipation in the room only grew heavier.

...

The clash between the southern and northern fortresses ended with the latter’s defeat. With the northern Prime beaten and thoroughly humiliated, whatever fight remained in the northern cadets disappeared entirely.

With most of their fortress destroyed, Zephyrion ordered the northern cadets rounded up and marched back to the southern fortress, where they were quickly put to work. Zephyrion was their Prime now, which meant regardless of how they felt about it, his orders were law.

Then, to the surprise of many, he ordered a celebratory banquet for their victory.

Before long, the mess hall was packed with cheering cadets.

They were still teenagers who had just come out of a difficult battle, and naturally, all anyone wanted to do was recount what happened and boast about their exploits.

As expected, Draven wasted no time loudly recounting his own grand achievements, for some reason without a shirt on. The others weren’t much better, each retelling becoming slightly more impressive than the last.

Soon, excitement had spread throughout the entire fortress.

But despite the celebration, Zephyrion could still sense the slight tension lurking underneath it all. With Malach defeated and the western fortress already taken, only one person remained.

Arcturus.

The same prince who had taken an entire fortress by himself.

Zephyrion could see the fear and uncertainty in several of the cadets’ eyes, but he didn’t pay it much attention. Leaving the noise of the mess hall behind, he walked out alone.

Lumi was busy spending time with her friends, which meant now was probably the perfect time to deal with... that.

He made his way through the fortress, passing several hallways before eventually coming to a stop in front of a massive iron door. Zephyrion stood there for a moment, going over what he intended to say in his head before releasing a quiet sigh and pushing the door open.

’Better to deal with this now.’

The forge wasn’t nearly as hot as the last time he’d been here, and the reason became obvious the moment he stepped inside. Only one furnace remained lit, its flickering glow illuminating a lone figure repeatedly bringing a hammer down against a glowing ingot.

Fiona wore an expression Zephyrion had rarely seen on her before. Her eyes were clear, yet strangely distant, as though everything beyond the piece of metal in front of her had simply ceased to exist.

’She’s completely immersed...’

Even the clang of her hammer against steel sounded different. Cleaner. Almost melodic, even, compared to the rough, erratic hammering he was used to hearing from other forgers.

Zephyrion had known from the beginning that Fiona’s comprehension would make her well suited for forging, and the shields she’d created had already proven him right. However, this was the first time he’d actually watched her work, and he had to admit, he was impressed.

He decided not to disturb her, partly because he still wanted some time to deliberate on what exactly he was going to say, and partly because he found himself strangely enjoying the melodic rhythm of her hammer.

Eventually, the sound came to a stop.

Breathing heavily, Fiona lowered her hammer and set it aside, the distant look in her eyes slowly fading as she returned to reality.

”Hey.”

”W-what...?”

Fiona’s head snapped towards the voice, her entire body freezing the moment she saw Zephyrion standing there.

”Z-Zephyrion? When did you...?”

”I came to see you.”

”See... me?”

Zephyrion nodded.

Fiona’s fingers quietly curled into her palms, a hint of sadness passing through her eyes before she lowered her gaze.

”...Okay. What do you need me to make?”

”...Nothing. I didn’t come here because I needed you to make something. I came to talk to you.”

”...You want to talk to me?”

What was this strange tightness in his chest?

Was he actually feeling... guilty?

Was it because she had automatically assumed he’d only come because he needed her to make something? Or because, despite everything that had happened between them, she was apparently still willing to do it if he asked?

Zephyrion wasn’t sure which bothered him more.

’This is unpleasant.’

He had approached Fiona from the beginning purely because he intended to use her. Yet somehow, along the way, she had begun influencing his emotions.

And annoyingly enough, she wasn’t even the first. Again and again, the people around him kept doing this.

Was this some sort of weakness of his?

He’d never had this problem before, but then again, he’d never spent this much time around any of his tools before either. It seemed his earlier conclusion had been right. Whether he liked it or not, prolonged interaction created attachment, especially when the person in question was genuine.

’How troublesome.’

Zephyrion released an inward sigh before meeting Fiona’s eyes.

”You have romantic feelings for me, don’t you?”