The Assassin's Seven Principles of Manipulation-Chapter 40 - 38 — What The Hell…

A moment later, catching sight of Kon hastily making his way toward them, Zephyrion withdrew his blade and stepped back calmly.

Kon’s face had gone pale, as though he had just witnessed something beyond reason.

"Y-young lord... that was too fast. I couldn’t properly assess anything. Would you mind... going again?"

Noting the slight tremor in his voice, Zephyrion regarded him for a brief moment before giving a calm nod.

"...Alright."

"T-thank you."

Swallowing, Kon turned toward Hans.

"...And you, Hans?"

The young instructor’s eyes still trembled, his mind clearly struggling to process what had just happened. After a brief pause, he swallowed and gave a stiff nod.

"...Y-yeah... I can go again."

A moment later, Kon stepped out of the arena. Hans moved toward the edge and turned to face Zephyrion once more.

His expression had hardened, his stance settling with greater intent as his gaze locked onto Zephyrion.

’He’s angry.’

Zephyrion lowered his blade slightly, meeting Hans’ gaze with a calm, unruffled look that only made the man’s grip tighten further around his sword.

The training ground fell into a deep, expectant silence, then...

"Begin!"

Hans launched forward with even greater speed than before, his blade driving straight toward Zephyrion’s chest.

Zephyrion’s wooden sword hung low one moment, and in the next, it rose effortlessly, deflecting the strike to the side.

Hans’ gaze narrowed. He turned with the deflection, flowing as his leg swept toward Zephyrion’s head.

Zephyrion stepped back just in time, the wind of the kick brushing faintly against his face as it passed.

In the next instant, Hans surged forward again, closing the distance without hesitation. His arms blurred as he unleashed a relentless barrage of thrusts and slashes.

Zephyrion’s eyes flickered. Thin, fleeting lines formed in his mind as he mapped every strike. He saw the attacks as they came, and those that had yet to come.

Unmoved, he adjusted with precise, economical motions. His blade rose and fell in perfect rhythm as he met each strike with an exact parry.

The sharp, rapid clashing of wood rang out across the arena.

With every block, Hans ground his teeth harder. His eyes burned with intensity, and his grip tightened until faint cracks began to spread along the surface of his wooden sword.

"He’s... he’s parrying everything."

"How is he moving like that?"

"Hans can’t even touch him..."

Gasps rippled through the instructors as they watched the exchange in disbelief.

Hans gnashed his teeth. He drew in a sharp breath, his eyes flashing cold.

Zephyrion’s gaze flickered.

’Now.’

Hans abruptly pulled back, raising his sword toward the sky. He flashed before Zephyrion the next moment, gales rippling around his sword as he brought it down with all his strength.

A sharp whoosh cut through the air as Zephyrion vanished, the strike cleaving through empty space.

He shot through the opening and erased the distance. Before Hans could react, his leg swept low across the ground, knocking him off his feet.

"Argh!"

Hans hit the arena hard. He tried to push himself back up, but a kick suddenly crashed into his stomach, knocking the breath from his lungs and sending him tumbling across the arena until he came to a rough stop near its edge.

Drawing in ragged breaths, Hans clutched his stomach and forced himself up. His expression twisted as his eyes met Zephyrion’s calm and detached gaze.

"I’m not... I’m not done yet!"

He lunged forward in a frenzy and swung down widely.

Another blur, and Zephyrion slipped past the strike. The next moment, Hans was lifted cleanly off the ground and hurled over his shoulder.

He slammed him into the arena with a heavy, bone jarring impact.

"Argh—! I can still fight... I’m not done!"

Hans struggled to rise again, but his movement halted the moment he felt the tip of the wooden sword resting against his neck.

"You’ve lost."

"No..."

Hans’ hastily lifted his head, but his eyes widened as they met Zephyrion’s still, purple gaze looking down at him.

"Hah..."

The strength left his arms as his sword slipped. With clenched fists and gritted teeth, he let out a heavy breath.

"...I lost."

...

Garrick hurried down the stone stairway of the training area.

’I better not be late.’

He almost cursed out loud as he recalled the promise he had made to the trainees.

’Why the hell did I agree to that long training session today of all days?’

It had taken far longer than expected to get away.

’If those idiots made me miss this, I’m doubling their training... no, tripling it.’

He reached the bottom of the stairs and stepped into the instructor’s cavern. There was a wide grin on his face. He could barely contain his thrill!

After seven long years, the boy who had once stirred his blood had finally returned. There was no way, no way, he was missing this assessment.

The moment he entered the cavern, he frowned at the absence of instructors.

’...Don’t tell me.’

His eyes widened.

’DON’T tell me they already started.’

He broke into a full sprint toward the main building, teeth clenched as a list of punishments rapidly formed in his mind.

’I’ll have them running laps till their legs fall off. No, weighted laps. With blades. In formation.’

Bursting into the arena, his gaze swept across the scene before landing on Zephyrion and another instructor standing apart from each other, while Kon stood between them, declaring the rules.

Garrick let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

’I made it.’

He moved toward the back of the gathered crowd, a faint smile on his face.

’Hmm... that’s Hans, right? Good. That’s actually a decent matchup.’

Hans was a grade three instructor, two tiers below Garrick himself, who stood at grade one. Still, Garrick had seen the man fight more than once. He was solid, disciplined, and not the type to embarrass himself.

Which made this interesting

His gaze shifted to Zephyrion, and his brow furrowed slightly. The boy wasn’t even looking at his opponent.

’Oi... don’t tell me you’re still like that.’

He grinned.

’How will you fare now?’

Zephyrion had passed his earlier test flawlessly, but there was something different about him now. His eyes... they were sharper. Heavier. Like something had been carved out and replaced with something colder.

Garrick didn’t know what the boy had gone through over the past seven years.

But he could feel it.

The Zephyrion he remembered had already been a monster. So now...

What the hell had that monster turned into?

Garrick steadied his excitement as he waited for the match to begin.

"Begin!"

The instant the word rang out, the air around Zephyrion shifted.

’...Hm?’

It was subtle, yet unmistakable. It was as though the boy had simply... stepped out of everything. As though he had entered into a space entirely his own. 𝗳𝐫𝚎𝗲𝚠𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝘃𝚎𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝗺

Garrick’s eyes narrowed.

Such focus...

He fixed his attention on the arena as Hans lowered into a stance and raised his blade. Zephyrion, in contrast, remained completely still, unmoving.

A brief moment passed. Then Hans lunged forward, his thrust cutting straight toward Zephyrion’s leg.

But Zephyrion was already gone. His movement was clean, fast.

Hans’ sword struck nothing but air.

And in the next instant, Zephyrion’s blade rested at his neck.

Garrick’s eyes widened.

’What the hell...’