The Assassin's Seven Principles of Manipulation

Cries and low groans of pain filled the clearing. The village head, Omar, stood still as his gaze swept over the warriors resting around him.

After hours of running, they had finally come to a halt to rest.

Their bodies were battered, wounds seeping through torn flesh as they struggled to recover. 𝓯𝓻𝒆𝙚𝒘𝓮𝙗𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝒍.𝙘𝓸𝙢

The elders were in even worse condition, their injuries far more severe. He had led them into this... and the outcome had been nothing short of devastating.

Worse still... his son was gone.

Guren had disappeared during the battle, and no matter how much he searched, there had been no sign of him.

A tightness gripped Omar’s chest as the thought settled deeper.

He could only fear the worst.

’If not for him.’

The village head curled his fists as he fixed his gaze on Zephyrion, who stood leaning against a tree not far away.

Even now, there was no trace of strain on his face, his expression as calm as ever. He had no idea how the boy had managed to draw an entire horde here, but one thing was certain, without him, they would not have survived.

Just as he began to step toward him, a voice called out.

"...father..."

The village head turned sharply. His eyes widened as Guren emerged from the depths of the forest.

"Guren..."

His armor was scorched and blackened in places, his body marked with bruises and wounds, yet he was standing. He was alive.

"Son!" The village head closed the distance at once, pulling him into a tight embrace before stepping back to look him over.

"Guren!"

"Guren—he’s back!"

By then, the other warriors had noticed as well, gathering around him one after another.

"I searched for you during the battle... I couldn’t find you. Where were you?" The village head asked.

Guren lowered his gaze, his hands curling into fists as he forced a look of regret onto his face.

"...The first clash sent me down the hill. One of the beasts followed me... I tried to deal with it. I’m sorry I couldn’t help, father... I’m sorry."

The village head drew him back into another embrace.

"It’s fine. You’re alive—that’s enough."

The surrounding warriors reached out, patting his back, offering quiet reassurances.

"You had us worried."

"Yeah... you made it back, that’s what matters."

"...you’re all amazing."

Guren’s expression eased as he nodded in response, accepting their words.

"..."

Leaning against the tree, Zephyrion watched the exchange unfold, his expression unchanged.

Several minutes passed before the village head finally moved. His fists were still clenched at his sides, his expression hardened as he made his way toward Zephyrion.

The moment he reached him, he dropped to his knees without hesitation and bowed his head.

A ripple of shock passed through the surrounding warriors. Not one of them had ever imagined the village head would kneel... especially not before someone so young.

"Young warrior... thank you... truly, thank you for your help. Without you... we would have lost everything..."

They were the strongest force Pulsegrove had. If they had fallen here, the village would not have survived. The village head’s hands tightened further on the ground.

"...how could I ever repay you..."

Zephyrion silently stared at the man for several seconds, before he nodded.

"...I have one thing..."

....

After resting for a while, they continued their journey back to the village, arriving just as the sun began to set.

It went without saying that the sight of the battered and injured warriors returning with lowered heads sent the villagers’ morale plummeting. Even more so when Omar gathered everyone to make an announcement.

"The beasts are far beyond what we can handle. We faced them... and we lost. Without this young warrior, none of us would have made it back."

"He saved them...?"

"...he doesn’t even look tired..."

"...we owe him our lives..."

Many gazes turned toward Zephyrion, a lot of emotions in them. Awe, gratitude, respect... but he received them all with the same calm indifference.

"In light of this... I’m sorry to say, but we have to leave. At least until the threat is dealt with."

"...leave...? We’re leaving the village?"

"No... we can’t just abandon it..."

A wave of gasps rippled through the crowd as hands rose to cover mouths in disbelief. To leave the village... their home...

"I understand how you all feel!" Omar’s voice rose. "But we have no choice. Pulsegrove isn’t these walls, it’s its people. We leave by morning... and we will return. I promise you that."

Whatever little morale remained crumbled at those words. Some villagers hurried back toward their homes to begin packing, while others made their way to the iron effigy, dropping to their knees to pray to the Iron Father.

As night settled over the village, a heavy silence took hold. Though many remained awake, there was no life in it, only a stillness that covered the entire village.

Within that silence, Guren scaled the wall of a compound and landed without a sound.

Moving through the familiar space with ease, he came to a stop before a door.

His eyes, which had been warm and regretful during the journey, were now cold, laced with killing intent.

’He should be out by now.’

Guren had slipped a sleeping mixture, enough to put even Mark Sevens under, into Zephyrion’s dinner. Poison would have been too obvious, so he had chosen this instead.

’I’ll slit his throat while he sleeps, then dispose of the body before anyone notices. I can use his disappearance to delay our departure... and move more warriors into the forest.’

As the one who had saved them, his father was deeply indebted to Zephyrion. He wouldn’t leave him behind, no matter the risk.

With the plan settled in his mind, Guren exhaled softly and pushed the door open, stepping inside dfwithout a sound.

The room was dark, steeped in silence, but his eyes adjusted quickly.

In one corner, a figure lay still beneath a cover, its form, to his face, fully covered. The faint rhythm of breathing filled the space.

’Perfect.’

A cold smile appeared on Guren’s lips. A blade formed in his hand as he closed the distance in silence.

’Blame yourself for your death.’

In one smooth motion, he yanked the blanket aside and brought the blade down.

Squelch!

A smirk had already begun to form when a cold voice came from behind.

"You’re finally here."

Guren’s eyes widened. He spun sharply.

From the darkness, a pair of still, purple eyes watched him in silence.