The Assassin's Seven Principles of Manipulation

Chapter 229: Chapter 225 — How

Zephyrion sat upright on the bed, waiting patiently. Two weeks had already gone by since he entered the academy. Now, less than a minute remained.

Lumi’s soft snores filled the room. It was the brief lull after their morning training and breakfast, and he had decided it was the most appropriate time for... this.

His legs tampered ever so slightly as he counted down the seconds in his mind. The instant it reached zero, he exhaled, raised his rune tab, and slowly tapped a series of runic letters.

The moment he finished, two clicks echoed, followed by a thick voice.

"Hello. Who’s there?" Kastor said.

"...I’m here," Zephyrion replied.

"...I’m here too, Lord Calderalth," Ingrid’s voice echoed a moment later.

After two weeks, it was time for their biweekly call.

They both waited. When several moments passed without a response, Zephyrion began to wonder what was taking so long.

"Garaxe," Kastor suddenly called.

"Yes, brother."

"You gave me something defective. It isn’t working. Bring me another one before I keep them waiting."

"Defective...? But I’m certain it—"

There was a brief silence.

"...Brother, it isn’t defective. You’re already connected."

"Hm? Then why can’t I hear them?"

Garaxe let out a long sigh.

"Because you’re holding the mute button."

"Hm? This?" Kastor asked. "Aren’t you supposed to hold it while you speak?"

"No. Brother, I genuinely don’t know how someone as capable as you can be this hopeless with rune tabs. It’s automatic. Just... let go of the button. They can hear every word you’re saying. You can’t hear them because you’ve muted the sound."

"...They’ve been listening this whole time?"

"Yes." The reply came with an amused chuckle.

The silence that followed was deafening.

"Alright." Kastor cleared his throat. "You may leave."

Garaxe’s footsteps gradually faded into the distance.

A smile was on Zephyrion’s lips before he even realized it. The great Kastor Calderalth had just made a fool of himself. The thought filled him with an odd sense of satisfaction.

A moment later, Kastor spoke again.

"Report. Ingrid first."

"...Yes, Lord Calderalth."

Ingrid cleared her throat.

"Over the course of the week, I added a few more Titan forms and..."

Ingrid’s report was concise, detailed, and to the point. She explained everything, even down to the Titan forms she had developed, unconcerned that he might make use of them himself. She almost seemed eager, and were it not for Kastor cutting her off, Zephyrion was certain she would’ve eventually moved on to her personal arts.

"Zephyrion," Kastor ordered.

Zephyrion took a moment to gather his thoughts before speaking. His report was far less detailed than Ingrid’s, and he deliberately avoided mentioning the specifics of his Titan forms.

Though he probably didn’t mind one of them finding out, he certainly minded the other. As for which was which, even he wasn’t entirely sure.

Soon, he was done, and a heavy silence settled over the call.

"Good. Keep trying new things. Experiment, especially in battle. That’s how you discover useful... Titan forms."

"Yes, Lord Calderalth."

’It should be over now.’

Zephyrion waited for Kastor to end the call, only to frown as several moments passed in silence.

’What else?’

At last, Kastor’s quiet voice came.

"...How is the academy?"

Zephyrion frowned, offering no response.

Ingrid, however, was different.

"It’s been well, Lord Calderalth." There was unmistakable pride in her voice. "I’ve been tempering the cadets and shaping them into the best warriors they can become..."

She went on about their training regimen so far, careful not to reveal any future developments, while describing how she had been pushing the cadets to their limits.

"...I have no doubt they won’t leave the same people they were when they arrived."

"Good job."

A moment later, Kastor spoke again.

"Zephyrion."

By then, Zephyrion’s fists had already clenched.

’Why?’

Why was he acting as though this was all normal? Like a father asking his children how school had been.

After everything... everything that had happened, did he really think things would simply return to normal?

Never.

"I—"

Bang!

The sound of a door being thrown open echoed through the rune tab, followed by a drunken voice.

"Big Brother!"

"...Garrick. What are you doing here?"

"I’m here to stop you from being an idiot! Let’s finish this already and teach those bastards a lesson!"

"You’re drunk." There was obvious dissatisfaction in Kastor’s voice. "You promised you wouldn’t drink for a year."

"Well I fucking lied! There’s this hole in my heart I just can’t fill. Booze helps. It’s wonderful, it... huh?" A brief pause. "Why’re you holding your hand up?"

Another pause.

"Oh! You’re on a call." His tone immediately turned curious. "Who is it? Let me talk to them!"

There was a bit of shuffling before Kastor finally spoke.

"We’ll continue this another time."

A click echoed as he ended the call. Another round of silence followed, leaving both Zephyrion and Ingrid speechless.

As the seconds passed, however, the irritation in Zephyrion gradually ebbed away. Only then did he realize his sister was still on the other end.

Unsure of what to say, he eventually settled on the only thing that came to mind.

"...Hey."

"...Hey."

Another silence settled between them.

"That ointment... it was you, wasn’t it?"

This time, the silence stretched for nearly half a minute before Ingrid finally spoke.

"...How did you figure that out?"

"Your handwriting."

"You remembered it?" There was a hint of surprise in her voice.

"Of course."

Another brief silence passed before she asked more quietly,

"...Did you use it?"

"I did." He thought for a moment before adding, "It works. It’s only been a day, and the scar’s already fading."

He wanted to ask how she had even noticed the cut in the first place, but decided against it.

"Of course it works. I picked it myse—" She seemed to realize how that sounded and quickly cleared her throat. "...I mean... it should. I made sure it was a good one."

Another moment passed, and Zephyrion felt the mood gradually grow heavier.

"The pressure test..." Ingrid asked quietly. "How are you?"

"I wasn’t injured. The nurse already clea—"

"That’s not what I meant."

Zephyrion frowned. Then what could she possibly mean?

"I meant... you." She paused for a moment. "...Mentally. After everything."

’Haa...’

Now he understood. She was talking about the sanguines he’d slaughtered. After all, to the rest of the world, he was only an eighteen-year-old.

He stared at the rune tab, unsure how to respond.

What was the best way to handle this?