The Assassin's Seven Principles of Manipulation

Chapter 190: Chapter 186 — Rile Up

Koran’s son was called Manias. He was what many would consider a textbook priest. The air of purity and cruelty clung to him tightly. In his early twenties, he was tall and calm. With average talent, he stood at Mark Seven of the Vessel Rank.

Amid the countless pilgrims across the South, he could even be said to have gathered a respectable following among the people. He had supported villages, healed grievous wounds, and mourned the dead.

He was loved.

The people watched him step forward with bright eyes. Zephyrion watched him with cold ones.

”People of the South.”

Manias remained calm despite the thousands watching him.

”As the High Priest has said, we are gathered here today to witness true justice. We Ferrans are what we are because of the divine Iron Father. Without him, where would we be? What would we be? He is our god. Our divine one. The founder of the Ferran Empire. The one who gave us a land to call home. A land where our children can live in peace and harmony.

”This is why we worship him. Why we give thanks. Why we praise his mighty name until the day we die. Everything we have, everything we are, was built upon the foundation he left behind.

”He stands above all.”

Manias paused, allowing the words to settle. Zephyrion could tell he was well practiced at handling crowds.

”We all know this.” Manias continued. ”This is why the Ferran way is centered around worshipping the Iron Father. We go on months-long pilgrimages, spreading his name and reminding people of his might. We endure harsh fasts. We abstain. All to show gratitude for the home and life he has given us. We praise his name every day. We follow his teachings.

”People of the South, for everything the Iron Father has done for us, does he ask for much? Our divine one does not ask for much. He does not ask for riches. He does not ask for crowns. He does not ask for comfort.

”All he asks is that we live our lives with honor and protect what he struggled to build for us.

”So tell me, people of the South... does he ask for much!?”

”No!”

The words came from a select few among the people. The crowd was beginning to stir.

”We all do our part. Every one of us. When the Iron Father calls, we answer. When duty comes, we serve. That is our way. The Ferran way. So tell me...

”Can we allow someone to escape justice because of a name? Because of status? Because of influence? If we do, then what are we saying? That some are above the rest of us. That some are above duty. That some are above service.

”Tell me, are they better than those who starve and sacrifice with all their might!?”

”NO!”

The collective shout was louder this time.

”It means they place themselves above serving the Iron Father. My fellow Ferrans, I ask you again. Is there anyone above the Iron Father!?”

”NO!!”

”There is no one! Not a name. Not a title. Not a person. Every one of us serves. No one is exempt.

”And anyone who rejects that duty rejects everything we stand for. They reject our people. They reject our way of life. They reject our divine father. It is treasonous. It is blasphemous. And those who shield such people are no better. They spit upon our god and call it righteousness. They deem him unworthy of worship.

”My fellow Ferrans... Is that the case!?”

”NOO!”

Many rose from their seats, roaring with clenched fists and burning eyes.

”Then I call upon your better judgment today.

Manias swept an arm toward Lumi.

”Lumi Ser Sarakhel was called to serve our divine one. But she fled. She ran. She turned her back on the duty every other Ferran bears. She thinks herself above those who starve and suffer in service to him. And now she hides behind a name. Behind one determined to shield this heresy. To shield a traitor.”

His hand shifted toward Zephyrion.

”The current Prime, Zephyrion Calderalth. The famous Lightning Prince, as many know him. A remarkable young man. A celebrated young man. But unfortunately, fame clouds the judgment of many. And it appears he is no exception.

”He believes himself above it all. Above our people. Above our traditions. Above the Iron Father himself. My fellow Ferrans...

Manias’ voice rose.

”IS THAT THE TRUTH!?”

”NOOO!!!!”

”IS HE BETTER THAN US!?”

”NOOO!”

”IS HE ABOVE IT ALL!? DOES HE THINK US FOOLS FOR SERVING OUR DIVINE ONE!? ARE WE FOOLS!?”

”NOOOOOO!”

The response shook the hall.

Eyes had turned cold and murderous. The air itself seemed to grow heavier, thick with hostility and zeal.

Ingrid curled her fists tight, teeth clenched.

This was what they had all feared.

The crowd had fallen slave to Manias’ words. They were riled up, frenzied. Right now, they wanted nothing more than to see Lumi hanging from a pike. It would be nigh impossible for reason to reach them now.

Worse still, Manias had revealed his true intentions. His target had always been Zephyrion.

Her younger brother was receiving just as many murderous glances as Lumi. Manias had twisted the narrative, and despite the fact that Zephyrion wasn’t even on trial, he had planted a seed of hatred in the hearts of the people.

Now, the most beloved youth in the South was on the verge of becoming the most hated. Ingrid’s leg bounced rapidly beneath her seat.

This... something about this infuriated her. She hated it. But why? Zephyrion being destroyed here would ensure her ascension without obstacles. She should have been pleased.

So why?

Why did she feel like driving her fist straight into Manias’ stupid face? Why did she feel like punching every fool staring at Zephyrion like that?

At her little brother...

Ingrid gritted her teeth.

Garaxe wore a somber expression while Tenius remained calm. Garrick sat in complete silence, idly rolling metal balls between his fingers. He did not seem the least bit interested in the proceedings. Kastor’s expression was a block of ice.

Tobias, Fiona, and Kaiden all wore dark expressions as they stared at the roaring crowd.

This was not looking good.