The Assassin's Seven Principles of Manipulation

Chapter 41: Chapter 39 — Problem

Garrick’s gaze widened.

’What the hell...’

He ignored the loud gasps and whispers of the instructors around him. Instead, his mind replayed the entire sequence over again.

’He read him.’

Before Hans had attacked, before Hans had even moved, he had already seen it; Zephyrion subtly shifting his stance.

’Not just that...’

Every movement that followed had been precise. Lethal. Far too refined for someone his age.

If this had been a real battle, Hans would already be dead.

Garrick snapped out of his daze as Kons climbed onto the arena and called for the fight to continue.

’You’re a legend, Kons.’

Pushing the thought aside, he fixed his gaze back on Zephyrion.

Hans lunged in a flurry of attacks, but the boy’s eyes tracked every movement with unsettling calm. His sword moved like it already knew what was coming, parrying each strike with precise movements.

Garrick’s fists tightened.

’This boy...’

So it hadn’t been a fluke. Zephyrion’s blade was moving before Hans had even committed to his attack.

It was as though he could see the strike before it was made, no, before it was even decided. Such clarity... Garrick had never witnessed anything like it from a seventeen-year-old.

Hans suddenly pulled back, then brought his blade down in a full-force swing. But Zephyrion was already gone.

In the next instant, he appeared at the man’s side, pivoting smoothly as his leg swept Hans off his feet, sending him skidding toward the edge of the arena.

Hans sprang up with a snarl and rushed forward again, his movements losing all restraint. But Zephyrion stepped in, caught his arm mid-motion, and slammed him back into the ground.

As Hans tried to rise, a blade stopped at his neck.

”It’s over.”

’Haa...’

A shudder ran through Garrick’s body as the words fell. The calm, the certainty... the sheer finality behind them...

”I-I lost.”

As Hans gritted his teeth and lowered his head, Garrick stared at Zephyrion, his fists clenched tightly. Even now, the boy remained calm, utterly unfazed.

Garrick could feel his heart pounding against his chest. He hadn’t been wrong. This was no longer the same monster he once knew.

That monster had gone out into the world... and returned as something far more fearsome than he could have ever imagined.

’Zephyrion Calderalth.’

The name alone made his blood stir.

With a wide grin, Garrick turned and strode away from the training ground.

The entire house was about to be overturned. He had never felt so exhilarated.

...

Perched at the edge of the open roof, Ingrid watched the scene below with an unreadable expression.

The instructors of the Discipline Line underwent an intense screening before being selected. As those entrusted with nurturing the descendants of Calderalth, whether primary or secondary, every effort was made to ensure they were among the very best, if not in raw talent, then in battle acumen.

Yet, a boy, one who hadn’t even undergone Calderalth’s brutal training, had defeated one of them in a spar.

Ingrid’s fists tightened unconsciously.

’He really hasn’t changed.’

Even after what he had just done, his eyes remained still, that same detached look resting on his face, as though everything before him was beneath notice.

’Just like that day...’

That day... when he had looked down at her with that very same gaze.

A sharp spike of rage surged through her chest, but she clenched her teeth and forced it down, steadying her breathing.

Then, her gaze hardened as it fixed onto Zephyrion.

’It doesn’t matter.’

At the end of the day, his mark would determine his worth.

Ingrid clicked her tongue, questioning why she had even come here in the first place. Zephyrion was not worth her time.

Just as she turned to leave, a sudden, piercing gaze locked onto her, freezing her mid-step.

Her eyes snapped downward, only to meet his.

Ingrid’s eyes narrowed.

’He noticed me?’

How?

They held each other’s gaze for several seconds, a silent exchange passing between them.

Then, Ingrid scoffed. She gave a faint nod before her figure vanished from the rooftop.

...

Thirty minutes later.

Garrick was already starting to get impatient when Kons finally stepped into the office.

His eyes lit up.

”Finally. What took you so long? Tell me what you’ve got.”

Kons’ brows were deeply furrowed, as though he were still caught in thought over something of grave importance.

Garrick frowned.

”Kons!”

Kons blinked, snapping out of his daze as his gaze settled on Garrick.

”...Lord Garrick?”

”What. Do. You. Have.”

Kons gave a small nod, exhaling as he gathered his thoughts.

”Ah... yes. The mute girl... she’s better than we thought. Mark three Vessel Rank, and her resonance is... high. Very high. She qualifies for Steel.”

Garrick forced down the urge to tear into him, releasing a slow breath.

”...Zephyrion?”

”That’s... that’s where the problem is.”

Kons hesitated, his expression darkening slightly as he shook his head.

”...I can’t... I can’t understand him.”

Garrick’s eyes narrowed.

”Explain.”

”He passed everything. Flawlessly. His reflexes are... I’ve never seen anything like it at his age. And his technique... it’s... it’s more refined than even mine. He beat Hans...”

Kons shook his head again, still unable to wrap his mind around it.

”And his control is just... I don’t know how to explain it. His resonance is... it’s the highest I’ve ever seen.”

By this point, a grin had already spread across Garrick’s face, his excitement barely contained.

”...What’s his rank?”

Kons hesitated.

”...I...”

Garrick’s expression hardened.

”Speak.”

Under that pressure, Kons nodded slowly.

”...That’s the problem, my lord. Everything points to mark three. His speed, his strength, everything. I was certain, completely certain, it was mark three.”

”Mark three?” Garrick muttered, his brows knitting together. ”That’s already low. So?”

”...It’s not.”

”...What?”

”When I checked his rank... it came out as mark two.”

Garrick’s gaze constricted.

”...You’re sure?”

”I tested it three times, my lord. It’s mark two.”

”...Mark two...”

Garrick frowned deeply. Mark three was already far too low, but mark two...?

After all these years, he had only advanced a single mark?

’What happened?’

He couldn’t help but wonder if something had occurred during the years Zephyrion had been gone. Something that had stalled his progression.

”My lord...” Kons said, casting him a worried look.

”...what do we do? He needs to be mark three to enter Steel, but...”

Kons trailed off, but Garrick understood.

The requirement for becoming a Steel trainee was absolute. One had to be at least mark three within a specific age range.

For a descendant of the primary line to not be placed in the Steel class at seventeen... the entire South would be shaken.

Garrick remained silent for a moment, mulling it over, before his expression gradually hardened.

”Follow the rules.”

Kons’ eyes widened.

”...But—”

”But nothing. Do it.”

Under Garrick’s heavy gaze, Kons hesitated, then gave a slow nod. A moment later, he turned and left the office.

Garrick fixed his eyes on empty space, his expression unreadable.

Something had happened, something that had halted the boy’s progress for years. It could have been an external force... or perhaps something within his own talent.

Still, a low chuckle escaped him a moment later.

In his mind, Zephyrion’s still, unfazed eyes surfaced once more.

’It doesn’t matter.’

Those were not the eyes of someone who could be held back. They were the eyes of someone destined to rise to the top.

In the quiet of the room, Garrick grinned.