Chapter 318 - 313 — Scam
Despite Garrick’s boisterous laughter, the air somehow became even more oppressive.
"Damn... this kid. I fucking love this kid so much." He slapped the armrest of his seat, turning towards Severin with a wide grin. "Oi, Severin, you must feel like absolute shit right now, huh? All that cheating, all that scheming, all that fucking ’Sarakhel ingenuity’—and your boy still got his ass handed to him! Ha! Ingenuity my ass! The little bastard was a scam from the start!"
Kastor, too, had a look of pure pride plastered across his face, sitting noticeably straighter than before. He made no attempt to hide the satisfaction on his face. If only he cared for such things, perhaps he might have thrown a few jabs of his own.
Meanwhile, King Cassian and Torvak had both fallen into deep contemplation, their expressions dark. Meanwhile, High general Rathen was shocked beyond words.
"Now, now, Garrick, don’t be too harsh." Garaxe cleared his throat. "The boy did show some intelligence, particularly towards the end. Once he was beaten, bloodied, and completely out of options, he at least possessed enough wisdom to surrender."
"Haha! Garaxe, listen to yourself! You’re dressing your insults up in nice words again. Somehow you’re even more of an asshole than I am!"
"I have no idea what you mean." Garaxe cleared his throat again, trying to maintain a serious expression, but the twitching corner of his mouth betrayed him completely. "I merely gave the boy credit where it was due."
"Of course, of course! And so did I!" Garrick laughed. "Ha! To think this dumbass was actually compared to our Zephyrion. What a fucking scam! Zephyrion spent the entire exercise walking on eggshells around the fool, and he was too busy admiring his own fake genius to even notice! All he knew how to do was beat his own people and convince himself that everyone else was too stupid to understand him."
He shook his head before turning towards Severin again, the grin on his face becoming even more obnoxious.
"Oi, Severin, why so quiet? You were awfully fucking talkative before. What happened? Cat finally get your tongue?" Garrick leaned forward slightly, openly enjoying himself. "Come on, tell me. How does it feel to finally see what an actually smart kid looks like? And before you get confused, no, I’m not talking about your delusional little spawn. I mean the real deal."
His grin widened.
"Ha! You know what? You should bring the rest of your children next time. Make it a family lesson. Who knows? Maybe if the entire Sarakhel line watches Zephyrion long enough, some actual intelligence might finally rub off on you lot."
"One more word out of your mouth." Valdris’s eyes were like steel. "And it will be the last one you ever speak."
"Haha! There it is! Now it all makes sense!" Garrick’s grin turned cold. "I kept wondering how Malach became so fucking delusional, but it was you lot all along, wasn’t it? I can practically smell it from here. You infected the poor bastard!" He scoffed. "Damn. Forget Malach—the whole fucking Sarakhel line might be diseased."
Valdris took a single step forward, the force of it shaking the entire room, but Severin raised an arm, halting him in his tracks.
Valdris immediately turned towards him, his eyes practically begging to be let loose, but Severin didn’t even spare him a glance. Eventually, Valdris gritted his teeth and backed off, though not without shooting Garrick a murderous glare that made it clear this was far from over.
Garrick, however, couldn’t have cared less. With an obnoxious grin, he raised a hand to his head and began mimicking the motion of shaving his hair, copying exactly what Zephyrion had done to Malach. Then, as though that wasn’t enough, he slapped the smooth armrest beside him and slowly ran his palm across it.
From how hard Valdris was grinding his teeth, it was a miracle sparks didn’t start flying from his mouth. The fact that he was completely bald only made Garrick’s mockery that much worse.
Eventually, for the sake of his own sanity, Valdris tore his gaze away from that evil bastard and turned back towards the screen, only then noticing Severin’s aura filling the room.
The head of House Sarakhel was a metal Ascendant, yet the air around him somehow felt like it was burning. Severin’s eyes were sharper than daggers, colder than ice. None of Garrick’s jabs seemed to faze him in the slightest. His attention remained fixed on the screen, where his own spawn knelt before Zephyrion, trembling uncontrollably.
The Calderalth were unmatched in forging armor and weapons. The Kharadun were unmatched in creating sentient constructs. The Eryndor were unmatched in pure battle prowess.
And lastly, the Sarakhel were unmatched when it came to the mind.
Their comprehension and cognitive abilities were always among the cream of the crop, granting them the ability to accomplish what most found incredibly difficult—enchanting their own physical bodies. But that was only one aspect of what made the Sarakhel feared.
When it came to thought, to strategy, to staying one step ahead of everyone else, the Sarakhel had always stood at the very top.
The entire empire knew this.
If Malach had been defeated by overwhelming power, Severin would have understood. He would have accepted it and already begun forming plans and counters for their next encounter.
However, Malach had been defeated through the very thing the empire specifically knew the Sarakhel for. Through what Severin took the most pride in when it came to his bloodline.
The mind.
This was... harder to accept.
A low chuckle suddenly escaped Severin’s lips. It continued for several seconds, growing louder and louder until his laughter rang throughout the entire room.
Several of the dynasty heads gave him strange looks. Who the hell laughed after suffering such humiliation?
"Oi, I think he finally fucking broke." Garrick grinned, staring at Severin as though he’d just discovered a new form of entertainment.
Eventually, Severin’s laughter died down, leaving behind a cold smile as his gaze remained fixed on Zephyrion on the screen.
’This child... his mind might be even more dangerous than his talent.’
What Zephyrion had done hadn’t escaped Severin. Of all the opportunities he’d had throughout the exercise, Zephyrion had deliberately chosen now to expose the Sarakhel’s involvement because it was the perfect time.
Malach had already been defeated, which meant Severin couldn’t back out of the bet even if he wanted to. And now, with Malach gone, there were no longer any cheaters left in the exercise, meaning there was no reason to stop it either.
In other words, the Sarakhel would suffer the backlash from being exposed, while Zephyrion would still walk away with the reward from the bet.
The perfect checkmate.
Severin slowly shook his head. Ridiculous talent coupled with an incredible mind, both were glaring red flags in his eyes, the perfect ingredients for an obstacle that would become a massive pain in the ass in the future.
’I can’t allow this child to grow.’
A moment later, Severin cleared his throat and turned towards the other dynasty heads, a pleasant smile appearing on his face as though he hadn’t just been laughing like a madman.
"Well, there’s no point embarrassing myself any further." He said. "I lost. Completely, in fact. But a deal is a deal. The thousand high-grade elixirs will be delivered."
Garrick’s eyes immediately lit up. Even Garaxe couldn’t quite hide the excitement on his face. However, before either of them could say anything, a low chuckle cut through the air, drawing everyone’s attention towards Cassian Aur Eryndor.
"My friends... aren’t we celebrating a little too early?" A confident smile spread across the Kings face. "The exercise isn’t over yet."