The Assassin's Seven Principles of Manipulation-Chapter 10 - 9 — Anger

Horses galloping through an endless forest. A raging storm tearing through the woodland. A settlement reduced to ruin. A spike driven clean through a man’s skull. A hidden passage. A meeting with Denmar. Denmar’s stunned expression as hundreds of eyes locked onto him.

The outlines of the large room shifted in Zephyrion’s eyes, replaced by scenes of the past unfolding as though projected by a hologram.

Seated on the bed, Zephyrion calmly watched it all replay again and again. Eventually, he dispelled his mind map.

"Haa..."

He exhaled as the dim light filtering through the window caught his attention, signaling that it was evening.

Sustaining the mind map for this long had been mentally taxing, and he could feel a heaviness weighing against his mind.

’Nothing was missed.’

That was all that mattered. Denmar could not make a move against him here, and he was certain the Order had no agents within the bastion, nor could they deploy any in time to reach him before his departure.

With that secured, he could now turn his attention to other matters.

Zephyrion removed his top, revealing a toned torso marked by countless scars and a silver pendant dangling down his neck.

On his chest were two square shaped tattoos pierced vertically by a single line set evenly apart, with a third faint outline beginning to take shape.

His brows furrowed slightly as he studied the sharpened edges of the forming mark. It had deepened since the last time he examined it.

’So it’s true.’

While others received their elemental runes at the age of ten and awakened, Zephyrion had mysteriously possessed the complete Metal Rune in his mind since birth.

But when he was eight, three years after awakening, a strange seal had suddenly manifested, obscuring the Metal Rune and halting his progression into the higher ranks ever since.

Two years later, when he turned ten, just after the ambush that led to his disappearance, that man approached him, claiming to know the origin of the seal... and how to break it.

’He lied.’

The Relic that man had given him when he joined, supposedly to suppress the seal’s spreading effects, had shattered during his last mission.

Almost instantly, he had felt the shackle binding his mind begin to loosen.

Zephyrion curled his fists.

’Mental map.’

The world fell silent.

Light traced the air, forming faint silhouettes around the room. A sprawling forest. A large procession of warriors escorting a carriage. Each detail fed into the mental lattice forming behind his eyes.

He reconstructed the scene as though watching a movie.

A ten year old Zephyrion sat inside the carriage, avoiding the gaze of the beautiful woman seated across from him.

The woman wore a small smile.

"You won’t even look at your mother?"

"I already know what you’re going to say."

She leaned back in her seat.

"Hmm. I didn’t realize my son had become a man who breaks his promises."

Zephyrion shot her a sharp look.

"You know that’s not true."

"Oh! There we go." She smiled wider. "Finally got you to look."

Zephyrion frowned, noticing the smug look on his mother’s face.

"Tsk."

He clicked his tongue. He wasn’t sure what annoyed him more. Falling for her bait, or the fact that she was clearly enjoying it.

Seeing his irritation, Senerith’s expression softened slightly.

"I saw you at the banquet, Zephyr. You said you were going to try."

"...I did."

She raised a brow.

Zephyrion sighed.

"Alright, I tried. But it’s pointless. They smile and flatter me, but it’s only because of my title. They’re all fake, mom. There’s no point trying to befriend them."

"Of course they are."

Zephyrion frowned as Senerith chuckled softly. He couldn’t see what was funny.

"That was your first banquet," she said. "But as Calderalth’s heir, it won’t be your last. You’ll meet people like that your whole life."

"But what use are fake people to me?" Zephyrion said. "They’ll turn on me the moment it suits them."

"Hmm..."

Senerith studied him for a moment, her piercing gaze seeming to look straight through him.

"What’s rule one?"

"...Everyone always has an agenda?"

She nodded.

"To be your friend. To gain your favor. To use you. It could be anything. But agendas don’t make people useless, Zephyr. They make them predictable."

Zephyrion frowned, but remained silent.

"It’s not your job to care what they want." She continued. "Your job is to understand it. Because anything predictable... can be controlled."

Zephyrion’s eyes narrowed slightly as her words echoed in his mind.

’I see.’

His mind had always been hyperactive, noticing things others overlooked even from a young age. But it was his mother who had taught him how to sharpen it.

He had never met anyone who understood people better than her.

As the meaning behind her words settled in his mind, he finally looked at her again.

She was smiling warmly.

His cold expression softened slightly.

"Th—"

Boom!

Fire swallowed everything.

"Ambush!"

"Protect the lady and young lord!"

Screams echoed, swallowed by the deafening ringing in Zephyrion’s ears. Amid the raging flames and spinning world, he could barely make out anything.

He felt a firm grip, and then his world became a blur of green.

Moments later, he was shoved into a large shrub. His mother’s soft voice followed.

"Zephyr, listen to me."

Her hands gripped his shoulders.

"Stay here. Don’t make a sound. Don’t move. I’ll come back for you. Do you understand?"

Zephyrion managed a nod, his world still spinning.

"Don’t be afraid. I love you, Zephyr."

He barely felt her slipping something around his neck before she vanished.

The booming sounds of distant battle reached him, followed by the ground trembling beneath his feet.

Then something heavy slammed into the shrub, sending him tumbling down a hill until he rolled roughly to a stop.

When he finally came to, Zephyrion turned toward the source and saw the bloodied body of a man clad entirely in black lying motionless on the ground.

Gritting his teeth, he approached and saw that a large spike had been driven straight through the man’s heart.

Zephyrion crouched down and pulled away the cloth covering the man’s head.

"Pause," Zephyrion said.

The entire world froze.

With an intense gaze, Zephyrion zoomed in on the man’s face. His blazing red hair framed an expression that remained fierce even in death.

However, Zephyrion’s eyes were fixed on the red dragon-like tattoo tracing down the man’s neck. Seven years later, he still remembered every detail.

’Pyrians...’

The man’s blazing red hair gave it away. A warrior of the Pyrian Imperium. One of the most powerful nations on the continent, whose military strength was said to dwarf even that of the other great nations.

Soon after, when his mother never returned, he had understood something clearly.

If he wished to uncover the truth behind the ambush and his mother’s disappearance... he would need power.

So when that man approached after the ambush with answers about the seal, claiming he knew how to break it...

Zephyrion had chosen to believe him.

However, he had been manipulated for years.

Feeling his heart hammering in his chest, Zephyrion frowned.

’I can’t think.’

Taking a deep breath, he shut his eyes and silenced his thoughts, allowing the silence of the room to swallow him.