The Assassin's Seven Principles of Manipulation-Chapter 51 - 49 — Mark Three

"Y-young lord."

The sudden voice made Zephyrion frown. He emerged from his mental space a moment later and fixed his eyes on the figure standing before him.

Of average height, with strands of hair veiling parts of her face, it was none other than Fiona.

Zephyrion’s gaze lowered to the object in her grasp, wrapped in layers of cloth.

Only a few days had passed since that incident, and this was already the third time she had come to him.

Feeling his silent gaze on her, Fiona quickly lowered her head and extended the object with both hands.

"I-I... I brought you this, young lord."

Zephyrion allowed a faint frown.

"...you don’t need to keep doing this."

"B-but I have to repay you... somehow..."

"You already did."

Fiona shook her head firmly.

"That... that doesn’t feel like enough, young lord. Not after everything. Please... accept this. Let me repay you properly."

She pushed it toward him again, her fingers tightening slightly around the cloth.

"..."

Zephyrion looked at the object for a moment, then let out a small sigh.

"...Alright."

He took it from her. A moment later, he felt Fiona’s quiet, expectant gaze settle on him. She clearly wanted him to open it.

Zephyrion peeled away the cloth, revealing a gleaming dagger beneath. Its ash colored hilt was neatly shaped, and the dark blade was smooth and flawless, without the slightest visible imperfection.

His eyes narrowed slightly.

He wrapped his fingers around the hilt and gave it a few measured swings, the blade slicing cleanly through the air.

Then he turned and found Fiona watching him, shoulders slightly drawn in, her eyes fixed on his expression.

Zephyrion smiled faintly.

"The balance is excellent. The blade is smooth, the finish is clean, and there are no visible flaws. It’s a remarkable piece."

Fiona’s eyes widened.

"You... you really think so?" 𝚏𝐫𝚎𝗲𝕨𝐞𝐛𝕟𝚘𝐯𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝗺

"I do."

"...I’m glad."

A bright smile bloomed across Fiona’s lips. But the moment she noticed him still looking at her, she froze.

A faint flush crept up her cheeks, and she quickly lowered her gaze, letting her hair fall forward to shield her face.

"T-thank you, young lord."

"It’s nothing."

A brief, awkward silence settled between them.

"...Is there anything else?"

"Ah! No, young lord. I’ll leave you to it!"

She turned and hurried off.

Zephyrion’s gaze lingered on her retreating figure for a moment, then returned to the dagger in his hand. He studied it in silence.

’It’s good.’

He hadn’t exaggerated. The balance was precise, the weight distribution clean, and even with a light grip, he could feel the blade’s edge.

It was far too refined to be the work of a seventeen-year-old.

If she had truly forged this herself, then he had clearly underestimated her talent.

’Hmm...’

After another brief look, he secured the dagger at his waist and closed his eyes, slipping back into his comprehension of the metal rune.

The hours drifted by, and just as the day began to settle into its usual rhythm, a sudden wave of gasps from the trainees broke through his focus.

Zephyrion opened his eyes.

Ahead, Kaiden stood confidently in the arena. Around him, several blades of metal hovered in slow, controlled orbits.

"This... he’s controlling metal in the air...!"

"Wait—then that means... Mark three!?"

"He’s on a completely different level now."

The trainees all stared at him in a mixture of disbelief and awe.

"..."

A brief silence fell.

"Begin!"

The match ended almost instantly.

Before his opponent could even react, the hovering blades surged forward, striking from multiple angles at once.

"Winner!"

The announcement rang out, and another wave of awe rippled through the trainees.

As Kaiden stepped down from the arena, his gaze suddenly locked onto Zephyrion. His lips curved into a confident smile. Then, with a faint scoff, he turned away.

"Wow... Kaiden’s really at mark three now. He can even go up against the Steel trainees."

"You didn’t know? He already beat two Steel trainees a year ago, even at a lower rank."

"That’s insane... no wonder he’s the top trainee."

"Yeah... but what I’m more curious about is his fight with the young lord."

"...Right. He’s still at mark two... So, what happens when he faces Kaiden?"

"...he doesn’t stand a chance."

As the trainees gradually left the training grounds, many of them cast pitying glances toward Zephyrion.

Yet, long before the crowd had begun to disperse, Zephyrion had already closed his eyes and returned to his training. Their opinions barely registered in his mind.

...

The world suddenly stilled.

A deep, resonant vibration hummed through Zephyrion’s body. Though his eyes remained closed, he could see the world around him clearly, feel everything in his room.

Zephyrion slowly opened his eyes.

He raised his hands, moving them gently through the air, and watched as faint ripples formed and shifted with each motion.

’So this is perception.’

Connecting with the WorldPulse always opened one to the world. The senses sharpened, and everything became more vivid, more defined.

Normally, this connection required conscious effort and an active reach toward the WorldPulse.

But upon reaching the third mark of the vessel rank, flow, that effort faded.

Now, it felt as though his mind had slipped into alignment with the WorldPulse, maintaining the connection effortlessly, without the need for active control.

’How far?’

From what he knew, the range of this perception usually depended on the level of one’s Resonance.

Someone with a high level of Resonance typically had a range of about five to ten meters, and it would expand as they progressed.

But after probing it for a brief moment, Zephyrion determined his range was roughly twenty five meters.

Within that space, everything felt clearer, more defined. The world sharpened, and every trace of metal stood out distinctly to his senses.

"Whew."

Zephyrion let out a slow breath, steadying himself.

’Let’s test this.’

He glanced at Lumi, curled beside him and breathing softly, before rising and stepping out of the room.

A moment later, he entered the mansion’s training ground. The silver moonlight poured in from the open roof above, washing the space in a calm, muted glow.