The Assassin's Seven Principles of Manipulation

Chapter 281 - 276 — Compensation

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"Or could it be... you’re simply upset your spawn didn’t think of it first? Come now, Kastor, there’s no need to look so grim. Some children simply take a little longer for their intelligence to blossom."

A loud bark of laughter immediately erupted from Garrick. He stared at Severin as one might stare at something pitiful.

"Of course you’d teach your seed to be as rotten and disgusting as you. No fucking surprise there. But please, don’t embarrass yourself talking about intelligence."

Garrick scoffed, looking almost offended by the comparison.

"That kid would swallow your kid whole, chew him up, shake him around, spit him back out, and the poor bastard still wouldn’t know what the fuck happened to him. Your seed doesn’t come close."

The air grew several times colder.

Severin’s smile faded, while the space around Valdris seemed to tremble. His eyes pierced through the moonlight, locking onto Garrick with enough intensity that the surrounding air seemed to tighten.

"Watch your fucking mouth."

"Huh?"

Garrick blinked, then blinked again. He glanced around as though completely certain Valdris had been speaking to someone else, even looking behind himself for good measure. When he turned back and found Valdris’s unamused stare still firmly fixed on him, Garrick slowly raised a finger and pointed at himself.

Then he burst out laughing.

The sound was loud and boisterous, tearing through the oppressive night with such complete disregard for the tension that Severin’s expression darkened even further.

Eventually, Garrick’s laughter tapered off. He wiped a tear from the corner of his eye before fixing the heartless fiend with an amused look.

"Watch my mouth?" His grin widened. "Why? What the fuck are you going to do about it, hm? You overgrown hairless monkey."

A vein across Valdris’s bald head throbbed, and his killing intent slowly bled into the air. With his eyes fixed firmly on Garrick, he looked like a beast barely restraining itself from lunging at its prey.

Severin, however, merely smiled, brushing aside the insult as though it were beneath his notice.

"I still stand by my words, though. The world is far too cruel for us to be clipping the wings of our youths whenever they learn to fly. What exactly are we teaching them then? To obey rules? To play fair? I assure you, their enemies will offer them no such courtesy.

"This arrangement came about entirely through Malach’s own ingenuity, and personally, I see no reason to punish the boy for being clever enough to create an advantage for himself." Severin’s gaze shifted towards Rathen, his smile remaining perfectly pleasant. "Surely you agree, Rathen?"

Rathen went stiff as every gaze immediately shifted towards him.

’Shit...’

He cursed internally, staring at Severin’s smile. Despite how pleasant it appeared, Rathen could clearly see the cold glint hidden within those eyes. He didn’t need words to understand what it meant. If he refused to support Severin here, he could kiss his daughter goodbye.

Rathen gritted his teeth, the weight of the situation pressing heavily against him. Agreeing with Severin was basically rejecting the Calderalths’ claim, and doing so could easily draw their wrath. Only, that wrath would no longer be directed solely at the Sarakhel, but at him as well.

’There’s no choice.’

He couldn’t afford to lose her.

Rathen clenched his fists and slowly exhaled, preparing to speak, when Garaxe suddenly cut in.

"There is sense in what you say. However, dressing a violation in pretty words does not make it any less of a violation. A rule has been broken, Severin. If you insist that it remain broken, then there must be consequences."

Garrick snorted.

"Exactly. Hell, if that’s how we’re playing now, let’s send Ingrid down there to ’help’ Zephyrion too. Let her show the little bastards what ingenuity really looks like." He shrugged. "Actually, fuck it, why stop with Ingrid? Call every House Commander. Let them all jump in, and we can turn the whole fucking exercise into one big family gathering."

Severin’s gaze darkened. "Malach convinced Rhydan entirely on his own. What you’re proposing is deliberate interference. They are not the same thing—"

"See, that’s your fucking problem." Garrick’s smile disappeared as he stared at Severin.

"When your seed gets help from a House Commander, it’s ’ingenuity.’ It’s clever. Brilliant, even. We should all clap for the little shit. But the moment we do the exact same thing, suddenly it’s interference?"

His expression twisted with disdain.

"What the fuck do you expect us to do, sit quietly and watch because your brat thought of cheating first? Bullshit. Your side gets a House Commander, ours gets fuck all. That’s a disadvantage no matter how prettily you dress it up, and if you want it to continue, then we get compensated for it." Garrick glanced towards his brother. "Right, Garaxe?"

"Compensation..." Severin muttered, finally catching on.

Garaxe nodded. "Precisely. I’m entirely in favor of allowing our youths room to spread their wings, as you put it. However, Zephyrion is now fighting at a considerable disadvantage through no fault of his own. If you insist that disadvantage remain, then it is only reasonable that he be compensated for it." He paused slightly. "Especially when he wins."

"When?" Severin’s eyes narrowed. "You’re that certain he’ll win?"

For the first time, Severin’s voice turned cold. To claim that Zephyrion would win despite such a disadvantage was practically spitting in the face of the Sarakhel. Worse still, it was an insult to their intelligence, and there were few things Severin despised more than having either his own intelligence or that of his spawn questioned.

"Ha!" Garrick laughed. "Certain? Was there ever any fucking doubt?"

Severin’s eyes grew colder.

"Very well, then. If your confidence is so great, let’s give it some weight. In exchange for turning a blind eye to this matter, I’ll wager a hundred high-grade elixirs of your choice, payable should your spawn actually manage to win."

"A hundred..."

Garrick’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.

Rathen was no different. A single high-grade elixir of substantial quality was worth around five thousand gold coins. A hundred of them amounted to five hundred thousand gold coins!