The Assassin's Seven Principles of Manipulation-Chapter 28 - 27 — Orient

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Chapter 28: Chapter 27 — Orient

Kastor’s eyes narrowed slightly, staring at where Zephyrion had stood moments ago.

"Look into everything he said."

"You don’t believe him? He told the truth."

Garaxe muttered that Kastor had even caught the boy the one time he had lied.

"He did. That’s the problem."

"...What?"

Kastor scoffed, shaking his head.

"That lie... it was deliberate."

"...You think so?"

Kastor nodded.

"He wanted me to catch it. Just enough to make me think I had the upper hand... that he couldn’t fool me."

Garaxe’s eyes widened slightly in surprise.

"...You’re saying he planned that?"

Kastor shook his head, a small frown forming.

"You’re in charge of my military, and you missed something that simple?"

But the Grand Marshal only gave a smug look in response.

"Oh, it was simple, huh? Is that why you were smiling just now?"

Kastor’s expression stilled instantly, returning to its usual cold neutrality.

"...I wasn’t."

Garaxe let out a short laugh, shaking his head.

"Just admit it. You only get like that when something impresses you."

"You’re imagining things."

Kastor waved him off dismissively, and Garaxe simply smiled, unconvinced.

"...Still... to think he went that far. The boy really does remind me of Senerith."

Kastor’s expression darkened slightly.

Garaxe eyes widened, suddenly realizing his mistake.

"...I shouldn’t have said that."

"...It’s fine."

Kastor closed his eyes. For a moment, he seemed to age a few decades. Garaxe stared at him with a worried gaze, but remained silent.

A moment later, Kastor opened his eyes again, the heaviness gone. His expression had already returned to its usual cold seriousness.

"What about the last matter?"

Garaxe nodded, as though he had been expecting the question.

"Looks like Ferravyr woke up after the Herald fight damaged his mountain, but he’s already restored it and gone back to sleep. What do you think, should we reach out?"

"No."

Garaxe smiled wryly at Kastor’s firm tone. He hesitated briefly before speaking again.

"...Selis also reported he showed interest in Zephyrion."

Kastor’s eyes narrowed slightly, as though weighing something. After a moment, he shook his head.

"...He carries Calderalth blood. That’s reason enough."

Garaxe gave him a look that clearly said he didn’t believe that.

"If that’s all, get to work."

"Yes."

Garaxe turned and walked toward the exit, but paused at the doorway, glancing back with a faint smile.

"...It’s good to see you back on that throne, brother."

With that, he turned and left, leaving Kastor sitting still under that parting remark.

Kastor remained in the hall, silently staring at the spot where Zephyrion had bowed. Both his fists were tightly clenched.

...

"We greet the young lord."

The moment Zephyrion stepped out of the grand hall, a group of women clad in maid uniforms bowed before him in unison.

"...."

At his silent stare, the woman leading them stepped forward.

"I am Betty, my lord. Head maid. We’ve been assigned to Your Grace. It is our honor to serve you."

’Focus.’

Zephyrion could still feel the tension from speaking with his father clinging to him. He suppressed it, steadily clearing his mind of all distracting thoughts.

’Assigned.’

He noted that single word. Just like Tobias, someone had gone out of their way to select the people serving him.

"...Who assigned you to me?"

"...The Discipline Line oversees maid assignments, my lord."

The Discipline Line... it was true that they were in charge of assigning maids and servants in the house. However...

’She evaded.’

He had asked for a name, but she had given the entire Discipline Line as a whole.

’Hmm...’

Zephyrion briefly recalled the regal woman he had seen seated on one of the thrones in the hall when he first arrived. She was the head of the Discipline Line.

He regarded the maid before him.

From the faint, barely discernible wrinkles on her face, he could tell she was in her seventies, though her overall appearance made her look closer to her fifties.

After a moment, he nodded, his expression unchanged.

"Alright. Where will I be staying?"

"Your former manor, my lord. It has remained... untouched since your absence."

"Good. Lead the way."

With a deep bow, the maids turned and began leading him through the grand open halls.

Through the open walls, he could see the enchanting sight of an endless sky, with clouds sprawled below, bathed in shimmering rays of light. Zephyrion barely spared it a glance.

He followed behind them, deep in thought.

’Did he believe me?’

It was difficult to be certain, especially when it came to Kastor. His father’s face was like a block of ice, offering next to no visual cues.

’It’s too early to say.’

Kastor had welcomed him back into the house without question, which meant his return had been accepted. But that didn’t mean his story had been fully believed. For all he knew, Kastor had simply chosen to observe him.

’I’ll have to be careful from now on.’

Still, there was a faint smile on Zephyrion’s face. Meeting his father first had been the best possible outcome.

As the head of House Calderalth, he held absolute authority. And since he had acknowledged Zephyrion, no one else had the right to openly question him.

The alternative would have been answering to the three great lines, leaving him exposed to their scrutiny.

As he thought through everything he had learned so far, Zephyrion’s eyes gradually grew serious.

’I have to orient myself, and fast.’

He had been away from Calderalth for seven years. It was impossible to expect things to remain the same.

One of the lessons he had learned as an assassin was that unfamiliar territory was always a battlefield, where anything could happen at any moment.

When entering a new territory, the first thing to do was to orient himself and make it second nature. Only then could he understand what to be wary of... what to avoid... and what to erase.

’Hm?’

Zephyrion paused as the maids suddenly came to a stop. Ahead of them stood a tall woman, blocking their path.

Zephyrion squinted slightly.

’Ingrid.’

Ingrid Calderalth didn’t spare the maids a glance, her gaze fixed directly on him.

"Leave us. Now."

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