The Assassin's Seven Principles of Manipulation

Chapter 372: Chapter 367 — Top Apprentice

”Apprentice of the Month goes to Zephyrion Calderalth.”

Several of the elite apprentices immediately narrowed their eyes, while the rest of the hall fell into an abrupt silence.

’What the hell...?’

He’d spent only a month here, but he was already familiar with the usual traditions within the bastion.

Every month, an Apprentice of the Month was selected from among all the apprentices currently stationed at Greywatch, the title meant to recognize whoever had contributed and accomplished the most during that period.

It usually came with several perks, including additional resources and reduced mandatory hours, benefits Zephyrion had long since regarded as mostly useless.

But that was simply his own conclusion.

Around the bastion, the title carried far more weight. For the past five years, it had belonged to the same person every single month since his arrival, becoming a symbol of power, strength, and influence that had all but cemented his position as the undisputed top apprentice in Greywatch.

And naturally, it was towards that same person that almost every apprentice’s gaze shifted.

Possum Ocren’s expression had darkened considerably as he stepped forward.

”Commander, if I may?”

Gonaster didn’t seem particularly bothered by the interruption, merely raising an eyebrow at him.

”Hm?”

”...I don’t mean to diminish his accomplishment, Commander. Becoming a mark two Herald at nineteen is... frankly ridiculous. But Apprentice of the Month has always gone to whoever contributed the most to Greywatch that month.”

”Oh?” Gonaster’s eyebrow climbed a little higher, amusement creeping onto his face. ”Is this about me taking that shiny little badge away from you, Possum? You’ve hogged the damn thing for five years. Surely you can survive one month without it.”

Possum’s brow twitched slightly. He glanced towards the other elites before his expression suddenly softened into a smile.

”This isn’t about me, Commander. I’ve had the title more than enough times. I’m thinking about the others. They’ve all worked hard this month hoping for a chance to earn it, and I don’t think it would be fair to disregard all of that because someone accomplished something impressive outside the bastion’s affairs. Please reconsider.”

As though waiting for those exact words, the other elites, along with several apprentices among the crowd, stepped forward and bowed.

Gonaster’s amusement disappeared, his brows drawing together as he fell silent. The generals and soldiers around the hall were watching him now, waiting to see how he would handle the situation.

’Oh... what a nasty little rat.’ Demorian, who had remained silent until now, suddenly spoke up. ’You see what he’s doing, don’t you, protégé?’

’Obviously.’

Zephyrion regarded Possum calmly.

’He’s trying to make me look like the commander’s spoiled little favorite.’

Right now, Zephyrion was probably the most talked-about person in the entire bastion, but Possum had just openly exposed the commander’s obvious favoritism towards him.

While people naturally revered the talented, it was also human nature to resent them, especially when it seemed the normal rules didn’t apply to them. If Gonaster went ahead with his decision now, there was a good chance the other apprentices, and perhaps even some of the soldiers, would begin to resent Zephyrion for it.

But Gonaster, eccentric as he was, was still the commander of Greywatch. He’d just made a declaration in front of practically the entire bastion, and taking it back because an apprentice questioned him would undermine his authority.

Possum had managed to put them both in a rather annoying position. If Gonaster refused, Zephyrion looked like the commander’s favored little genius. If he agreed, Possum got what he wanted anyway.

’So, what are you going to do?’ Demorian asked.

Zephyrion continued staring at Possum without answering. The guy had been getting on his nerves quite a bit over the past month. He’d mostly ignored the petty harassment since he found it irrelevant, but constantly discovering his clothes missing was beginning to get irritating.

Besides, he’d worked rather hard to build himself a good image around the bastion. He wasn’t about to let some idiot ruin it for him.

As though sensing his gaze, Possum suddenly turned towards him, and their eyes met.

”Surely you understand where I’m coming from, Apprentice Zephyrion?” Possum asked with a pleasant smile.

Having successfully directed the attention towards him, Possum got exactly what he wanted. Every eye in the hall was now on Zephyrion, waiting for his response.

Zephyrion remained silent for a moment before finally speaking.

”Tell me, what do you think this bastion needs the most?”

Possum frowned, clearly not expecting the question. ”...What does that have to do with anything?”

Zephyrion merely glanced towards the commander, who immediately caught his meaning and fixed Possum with a stern look.

”The boy asked you a question. Answer it.”

Possum’s expression darkened slightly, but he still nodded, taking a moment to consider it.

”...The soldiers here are strong and capable, but Greywatch has stood for a long time. Its infrastructure is old, several of its relics are worn out, and there’s only so much we can maintain ourselves. So, resources. Give us more support from the empire, and there’s a great deal we could improve.”

Possum finished and glanced around, taking in the approving nods from several of the veteran soldiers before turning back towards Zephyrion with a faint smile, only for it to falter almost immediately.

Zephyrion was shaking his head.

”Resources would help, but no. That’s not what this place needs the most.”

”...Then what the hell are you talking about?”

This time, it wasn’t only Possum. Several of the soldiers had frowned as well, regarding Zephyrion with a mixture of confusion and curiosity.

”I’ve spent the past month around the bastion, and from what I’ve gathered, there are roughly eighteen thousand personnel stationed across this entire region. Around three thousand are needed here at Greywatch itself, while another two thousand serve in non-combat roles. That leaves barely thirteen thousand soldiers responsible for patrolling the frontier and protecting every settlement across the region.”

Zephyrion paused, sweeping his gaze across the now-silent hall.

”I’ve watched soldiers return exhausted from one mission only to be sent out on another. I’ve heard about settlements you couldn’t reach in time and the casualties that followed.”

”...So now you’re saying the soldiers of Greywatch aren’t capable of doing their jobs?”