Theron raised an eyebrow. But eventually, he did as he was told.
Inwardly, he was still calm, wondering how fast he should go, and how long. In the end, though, he chose to go all out in terms of speed. As for his length, he wouldn’t allow the old man to see that.
What exactly did he have to lose? At least against an opponent like this… he stood no chance at all.
The old man was prepared to comment, but then he froze.
Theron’s gaze had already reached a state of unprecedented concentration, and then it became dull. His entire body seemed to have disappeared where it stood, his aura waning and becoming a controlled center of Mana.
Right then, he was little different from an Imbued Beast, everything flowing naturally between nature and himself.
Then, he pulled himself out seamlessly to find the old man staring at him.
For a long while, there was a silence as the old man didn’t say anything. This time, the latter’s face was stone cold and impossible to read. If he had been surprised, there was nothing there to suggest it. He had truly become an iceberg.
“… What do you think are the most important things you learned at Daggers Camp?”
“Don’t bullshit me.”
“I am serious.” Theron replied.
“Then why?”
The tenets of an assassin were very different from the rules of the Guild. They were more free flowing, and far more detailed.
They couldn’t be explained in just a few sentences as they distilled years of training into thick tomes. They described methods of disguise, what to do during an operation’s failure, how to scout a region and how to set traps.
They encompassed all the sorts of detailed readings that Theron liked to do… and they were also among the things new recruits disregarded the most.
For Theron to reply with it was like he was trying a little too hard to be a teacher’s pet. At least, that was what the old man thought.
“Why would the most important compilation of centuries of experience not be the most important?” Theron raised an eyebrow as though it was obvious.
The old man was speechless again. Normally when he asked this question, the kid would get flustered trying to remember details about things they had only vaguely read.
Theron didn’t even bother.
“Is that so…” The old man’s eyes flickered. “In that case, Case Study 0331—.”
“A case of an old man in a rocking chair. You enter the room, sun is coming from a north facing window, your target is in a corner, elderly and too weak to move. The floor boards creak as you quickly side step to your right, not having expected such an open invitation. There is vast open land between the forest and the cabin that is your target. If there are protectors, you’ve almost certainly been exposed already, and yet they’ve allowed you to enter the room without pushback. What do you do?”
The old man’s eyes narrowed.
“And?”
“Isn’t it obvious? There should be no direct sunlight coming from the north. There are only two options. The illusionist either made a mistake, or it was a necessary change.”
“Why would it be?”
“For others that are in hiding to understand the changed orientation of the room. The sunlight is like tag reminding them of how the room was shifted. In this case, it’s a reminder that north has now become whatever direction the sunlight should be coming from, and to adjust accordingly.”
“And then?”
“If the man is beside the north-facing window in his rocking chair, with direct sunlight beaming down, then just attack the west corner of the room.”
“Why not the east? Why are you so sure? The time of day is not listed in the case study.”
“That was idiotic, by the way. The tenants are very useful, but some of the problems within it are silly. What assassin wouldn’t know the time of day? But regardless, I choose to attack the west because of the floor board’s creak.”
The light in the old man’s eyes became especially sharp, waiting for Theron to continue.
“If the first thing I notice when coming into a room is the sunlight from the north, then I entered from the south. But we’ve already established that it couldn’t possibly be the south, it has to be the west or east.
The creaking of the very real floor boards is the one thing that can’t be changed through an illusion that strictly takes place in the mind. But the target is in a rocking chair. If there were squeaking floor boards beneath it, it would be heard. Regardless, what’s most important is that where I stepped is likely the true south of the home.”
“And why’s that?”
“The south receives the most sun through the day, even if it isn’t direct. The cabin is made of wood and prone to expansion and contraction. For mostly unused floor boards to squeak, while floor boards that undergo perpetual wear and tear beneath a rocking chair do not, that is the most likely explanation.”
“Continue.”
“If stepping to the right meant that I was south, then that means that the way I just came from should be the true west, which means that the rocking chair is usually placed near an east facing window.”
“Didn’t you say to attack west, then?”
“Casting a bad illusion is easy enough if you have enough Mana as a Spirit Mancer. Casting a transposed illusion like this one is impossible without the highest levels of intelligence. This illusionist is a man or woman who undoubtedly has genius-level intellect; they would certainly think one step deeper.
So you attack east, right next to the location of the doorway you just entered from, and right through the swung open door.”
“And why not two levels deeper and attack east instead?”
“Why bother? If you miss, run.”
The old man’s eyes couldn’t come off of Theron. It was like he was staring at a real-life gem.
After a long while, he slowly stood.
“I will give you the protection you want. In Daggers of the Night, no one can touch you. Not even the Nightingales.”