The Assassin's Seven Principles of Manipulation-Chapter 9 - 8 — How?

’When?’

If Denmar meant to strike in the office, it would have happened the moment the letter arrived.

’After.’

Zephyrion let his mind run through every tell again. In all, Denmar had gone to great lengths to ensure his presence remained unknown.

’He’s more worried about a clean disappearance than a quick kill.’

Someone like that wouldn’t stain his own office.

’He’d pass the work to someone else. A cleaner hand.’

Zephyrion studied the man walking ahead of him. Even now, not a single footstep echoed in his wake.

The man wasn’t guiding him to his quarters. He was guiding him to his execution. Somewhere no evidence would remain.

Zephyrion adjusted his pace. Time was running out. 𝘧𝑟𝑒𝑒𝘸𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝓁.𝘤𝘰𝓂

’There’s no choice.’

They reached the end of the hallway and turned into the next corridor.

’It’s here.’

Zephyrion dipped into the WorldPulse. The instant his foot touched the ground, he felt it, every thread of metal woven through the stone beneath them, through the floors below.

A pull.

The floor vanished.

"What—?!"

Zephyrion threw out a startled shout as they dropped.

The assassin twisted midair instantly, scanning the falling debris in alarm, only for the next floor to collapse beneath them.

Then the next.

And the next.

They plummeted through the bastion level by level before slamming into the lowest floor.

Zephyrion tucked into a roll, letting the momentum hurl him toward the outer wall. He hardened his body a moment before impact, smashing through stone and bursting into open air in a cloud of dust.

A wave of stares hit him as he rose.

’I was right.’

Zephyrion had found the emptiness of the bastion odd from the moment he arrived. During his past visits, the halls were always filled with roaming soldiers and staff.

Only two things emptied the bastion: active war... or a prayer session.

The former wasn’t it. The timing was off, but the latter was far more probable.

With the numerous oddities surrounding his arrival, Zephyrion had known he might be walking into a lions den.

Which was why he had engineered Kai’s fall earlier, to touch the ground and map the most likely path through the bastion.

’Rule six.’

Always leave yourself an escape.

Now, before him was the open center of the bastion, a massive stone courtyard. At its heart stood a towering iron effigy of the Iron Father, its arms raised toward the sky.

"What in the—!?"

"Someone just crashed through the walls!"

Soldiers filled the courtyard. Some were already on their feet, others still knelt in prayer, their eyes narrowed at the explosion of sound.

As he took a step forward, Denmar’s assassin slid silently in front of him, blocking him from sight.

"It’s dangerous, young lord. Allow me to escort you," he said quietly, a low hum rising as he connected to the WorldPulse.

A crushing weight settled over Zephyrion’s limbs and locked him in place.

Zephyrion frowned.

"There’s no need. I can see Calderalth’s warriors among them. Step aside. I want to speak with them."

"I—I cannot. It’s not safe. You—"

"Did I stutter?"

Zephyrion cut in, his voice dropping cold.

"Or did that fall shake more than your footing? I said step. Aside."

The assassin froze under Zephyrion’s icy gaze.

With a clenched fist, he bowed stiffly and stepped aside.

As Zephyrion stepped forward, the soldiers before him stared as though they were witnessing a ghost.

"I-it can’t be..."

"Purple eyes... that face..."

"Y-young lord Zephyrion..."

"...He’s alive?"

Zephyrion gave a calm nod.

"It has been some time."

The courtyard went still as hundreds of eyes silently locked onto him.

...

’How is this possible...?’

From the top floor of the bastion, Denmar watched the scene unfolding below with widened eyes.

His plan had been flawless. Aside from the soldiers, he had ensured that no other soul had seen him.

The letter had further confirmed that no one was aware of his presence here. It had been arranged perfectly for a clean and silent disappearance.

’So it wasn’t an accident...’

Denmar’s fingers curled tightly into his palms. Not once during their meeting had it felt like he was speaking to a mere seventeen-year-old.

Zephyrion had deflected each inquiry with such seamless ease that it was only after the boy left the office that he realized that without the letter, he would not have been entirely certain that his presence here remained undiscovered.

He was not foolish enough to believe that the reinforced floors of the bastion had conveniently collapsed while his subordinate was escorting Zephyrion to his death.

Nor was he naïve enough to assume that they had fallen into the one location where he had stationed every soldier under his command.

’Was this his doing?’

Denmar found it hard to believe that a child like him could possess such foresight. But the reality was clear. With every soldier in the bastion now having seen him, a discreet removal was no longer possible.

A sudden, piercing gaze rose from below, and Denmar found Zephyrion looking directly at him through the surrounding chaos as though the noise and confusion did not exist.

The hardness in Denmar’s expression dissolved instantly into a refined, practiced smile the moment their eyes met.

He inclined his head slightly, his fist tightening at his side, then withdrew from the window.

...

’It’s not over.’

Zephyrion watched Denmar’s departing figure with a blank expression.

He hadn’t missed the smooth smile forced onto the man’s face. Nor the shock when he realized that hundreds of soldiers had seen him.

’He’s gone as well.’

The assassin who had been assigned to escort him had disappeared, no doubt to report what had transpired and await further instructions.

’Hmm.’

Zephyrion sifted through the details in his mind. A considerable number of Calderalth’s warriors were present, and beyond them, countless other eyes had seen him.

However ambitious Denmar might be, he would not dare silence thousands of witnesses. Not without leaving loose ends.

’After.’

Any harm that befell him within the bastion would inevitably reach Calderalth, and the repercussions would follow just as swiftly.

Which meant Denmar’s next move could only unfold once Zephyrion stepped beyond these walls.

The murmurs spreading through the fortress had already begun to irritate him when the assassin reappeared not long after.

"I’ll escort you to your chambers, young lord."

Zephyrion studied the man briefly before giving a small nod.

Soon after, he found himself inside a spacious chamber at the highest tier of the bastion. Thick stone walls reinforced with metal seams, wide windows overlooking the fortress grounds below.

It was a residence reserved for high level figures visiting the bastion.

"If you require anything," the man said as he stepped back, "I’ll be right outside."

The door shut with a muted click, and Zephyrion’s gaze rested on it for a moment.

’He has no intention of leaving.’

The assassin’s presence remained just beyond the door.

’Now he observes.’

Without speaking, Zephyrion walked to the bed and lay down, folding his hands neatly over his chest as his eyes fixed on the ceiling above.

His face remained devoid of expression as his thoughts began to move. It was a habit he maintained at the end of every mission, something that eased his mind.

Within moments, the events of the past days replayed itself. From the Order, to the village, to the road, to the office, to the courtyard.

Each sequence arranged in order.

Nothing overlooked.