The Assassin's Seven Principles of Manipulation-Chapter 45 - 43 — Pressure

Sometime later, Zephyrion exhaled slowly, feeling a strange calm settle over his mind.

’I can now think.’

The initial surge of information had felt endless. Yet, his mind had filtered through it far faster than he would have expected.

After mulling it over for a moment, Zephyrion eventually attributed it to his high comprehension speed.

An Ascendant’s comprehension speed was largely dependent on their cognitive prowess. With an unusually high cognitive ability, processing the flood of information had been possible for him.

Zephyrion drew in a measured breath and steadied himself.

The first thing he noticed was that Garrick was no longer standing before him. The second was the complete absence of noise.

’He erected a barrier.’

Having reached that conclusion, Zephyrion shut out everything else and turned his attention inward.

’A Relic that overwhelms the mind.’

Considering everything Garrick had explained, a Relic like this would gradually increase his cognitive speed over time, and in turn, improve his rune comprehension speed.

’Hmm.’

Now that the effect was clearer to him, Zephyrion also understood Garrick’s intentions.

’He thinks my comprehension speed has declined.’

Given the circumstances, it was the most likely conclusion anyone would reach. Most would assume he lacked the ability to comprehend the higher ranks of power. That his talent had been lacking from the beginning.

They would be shown the truth soon enough.

Still, this training was clearly Garrick’s attempt to help him. For a brief moment, Zephyrion considered telling him about the fog...

But he quickly shook the thought away, suppressing the emotions that had begun to stir.

’Rule twelve.’

Weakness invites predators. If he had to be weak, then no one could be allowed to know it.

Exhaling slowly, he drew his focus back to the Relic. Now that his thoughts were no longer scattered, he could begin to properly analyze.

A moment later, he appeared within his mindscape and lifted his gaze.

The pressure had taken form as an invisible force, one that constantly weighed against his mindscape and constantly pushed it to its limits.

He shifted his attention away and turned to his metal rune, settling on the fog obscuring it.

He knew better than anyone how absurd his comprehension speed already was. Attempting to expand it further now would yield little to no change.

The true problem was the fog.

Zephyrion raised his gaze once more to the boundless sky of his mindscape, an idea quietly forming.

’It’s worth a try.’

Steadying himself, he fixed his eyes on the barrier that stretched endlessly above. Focusing on a single point, he began to part it open, slowly and carefully until a strand like force slipped through the tiny opening.

Zephyrion’s focus sharpened instantly as he seized control of it, guiding it until it collided with the fog moments later.

A second passed, and his brows drew together.

He could sense the effect, it was working, slowly clearing the fog, but the progress was negligible.

’Hmm.’

He shifted his gaze back to the boundless sky.

What he was attempting to do was to redirect the pressure of the WorldPulse to aid in eroding the fog.

But the risk was undeniable. He was allowing an external force into his mind. If his control faltered even slightly, the backlash could leave him mentally incapacitated.

A moment later, Zephyrion exhaled. His expression hardened.

’Anything to get rid of the fog faster.’

With that, he widened the opening slightly, doubling the force.

’More.’

He repeated the process, again and again, each, until eventually, nearly seventy percent of the force was redirected toward the fog, clashing against it relentlessly.

Only then did Zephyrion stop.

’This is as far as I can control.’

He was already exerting a considerable amount of metal power to direct the pressure toward the fog. Pushing any further would risk losing control entirely.

’Still, it’s good.’

A faint smile appeared on Zephyrion’s lips as he observed the scene before him.

The Relic’s pressure was something capable of overwhelming his mind, which made it far more potent than the pressure his own mind could muster against the fog.

Yet now, nearly seventy percent of it was being redirected, constantly clashing against the fog and steadily clearing it.

And more than that, if Zephyrion layered his own mental pressure onto it, the force acting on the fog would effectively double.

Suppressing his thrill, Zephyrion reassessed his earlier estimations.

He smiled.

’A week and a few days.’

That was all he needed to reach Mark Three.

After mulling it over briefly, Zephyrion withdrew from his mindscape and opened his eyes.

He squinted, raising a hand to shield them from the sudden brightness. As his vision adjusted, the pressure on his mind surged as a flood of information came crashing.

He paused, taking a moment to evaluate himself.

’It’s doable.’

Even outside his mindscape, he retained the ability to direct the pressure toward the fog.

And with the majority of that pressure no longer bearing down on his mind, but instead focused on the fog, enduring it became significantly easier.

This was good.

It meant even while attending to other tasks, he could continue clearing the fog.

...

Garrick lay sprawled across the platform, his head propped lazily against his arm.

With a bottle of booze on one hand, there was a faint blush on his face as he grinned while flipping through the lecherous contents of the magazine before him.

However, the moment a trainee slowed, he casually formed a metal ball and flicked it with terrifying speed.

It struck the trainee square in the forehead, sending him tumbling across the ground.

"If you stop again, I’ll aim lower next time. Move!"

"Y-yes, head instructor!"

Garrick didn’t even look up, lazily turning a page.

As the training dragged on, he eventually finished his magazine. With nothing else to do, he took another swig of booze and shifted his attention to the trainees.

Watching them struggle under the 100kg weight as they ran, he let out a low scoff.

It had barely been two hours.

"Hmm... how pathetic."

Back in his time, he had run with twice that weight, and for far longer.

He had expected little from the Iron division, but this... this was somehow worse.

Even the trash in the Steel division could at least pretend to be useful.

’At least they’re not all completely hopeless.’

His gaze drifted to the three leading at the front. A boy with a sharp gaze and steady composure. A girl whose technique held even under strain.

And lastly...

’Hmm... not bad.’

At the forefront was a boy with spiky hair. Despite the crushing weight dragging at him, his gaze remained fierce and unwavering, like a hungry wolf.

Noticing the ash-colored headband tied around his head, Garrick understood.

’So he’s the top trainee.’

He watched him for a moment longer, then lost interest just as quickly. After all, there was something far more entertaining nearby.

As he fixed his gaze on Zephyrion, he froze.

’Huh?’