Zandro couldn't figure out what Haoran was planning. He knew just how obsessed the man was with his wife, Eula. Naturally, Zandro had assumed Haoran would send the Valdemors—fiercely loyal to the clan and highly skilled—to Bordeaux, Aquitaine, to negotiate with Nakago and bring back Eula and their son, Hao.
Instead, Haoran sent the Manzoni.
The Manzoni were another subfamily under the Azakura clan, loyal in appearance but simmering with dissatisfaction over Haoran's leadership. Unlike the Valdemors, who embodied unwavering allegiance, the Manzoni harbored deep resentment, especially toward Haoran's decision to uphold the silent truce with the Toheyama clan.
The Manzoni's head, in particular, had made his disdain clear in subtle ways, and Zandro knew they would seize any opportunity to sabotage the peace treaty between the Azakura and the Toheyama. The Manzoni wouldn't hesitate to sacrifice anyone if it furthered their agenda—including Eula and Hao.
Still, Zandro couldn't question Haoran's orders. His job was to follow orders, no questions asked. That had been the way of the Leighton family for generations. Their loyalty to the Azakura clan was absolute, dating back to its very foundation. Zandro had no intention of ending that legacy, even if the current head of the clan—brilliant as he was—was clearly unstable.
Haoran was unlike any other head of the Azakura clan. He dared to envision a future where the clan moved beyond the shadows of underground dealings, a vision that made him both revered and reviled.
As they walked toward the dining hall inside Château Rouge, nestled in the Limoges countryside bordering Aquitaine and Limousin, Zandro broke the tense silence.
"Why did you send the Manzoni?" he asked, his tone neutral but his curiosity clear.
"They wanted to prove their worth," Haoran replied flatly, his expression unreadable.
Zandro frowned but pressed on. "They may sabotage the silent truce between the clans. Are you not concerned? Not just about the truce, but also for Eula and Hao's safety?"
Haoran stopped abruptly in the middle of the corridor. It had been four days since Eula ran away with their son, and while Haoran's face betrayed no emotion, Zandro knew the man was on the brink of losing his mind.
For all his faults, Haoran cherished his wife and son in his own twisted, obsessive way. His silence, his calculated decisions—it was all part of his unraveling psyche.
"I am counting on the Manzoni going rogue," Haoran finally said, his voice calm but carrying an edge that made Zandro's brows furrow in confusion.
"What do you mean?" Zandro asked cautiously.
Haoran turned to face him, his dark eyes cold and calculating. "They will serve as an example to the pathetic old guards who refuse to see reason. There is a reason we did not go to war with the Toheyama. They can't see it. But I can."
Zandro remained silent, allowing Haoran to continue.
"The Toheyama are not dangerous because their clan is big. They are dangerous because, unlike ours, they shield each other from outside forces. There is no power struggle among them. They work as one. In our clan, and in most others, even the slightest misstep will have your allies turning into your executioners."
Haoran's voice grew quieter, more chilling. "The Manzoni think they can use this mission to their advantage, to make their move against me. But they are wrong. When they fail—when they overstep and pay the price—it will be a lesson for the rest. The Toheyama will retaliate, and when they do, no one in the clan will question why I upheld the truce."
It was a ruthless plan, one that left Zandro uneasy. He knew Haoran's methods were always calculated to the smallest detail, but this… this bordered on cruelty. Using the Manzoni's inevitable failure to reinforce his authority, to cement his control over the clan—it was a gamble only someone teetering on the edge of sanity would make.
"You're willing to risk your wife and son to make a point?" Zandro asked quietly, his voice tinged with concern.
"I'm not risking them," Haoran said with quiet conviction. "I know Nakago won't harm them. He may be our enemy, but he is not reckless. He understands the value of restraint better than anyone. That's why I sent the Manzonis. Their failure will strengthen my position in the clan and make it clear to everyone why I lead the way I do."
For a moment, Zandro said nothing, his mind racing to process Haoran's strategy. It was brilliant, no doubt, but it was also cold and calculated to the point of cruelty. He couldn't help but wonder how much of Haoran's obsession with power stemmed from a genuine desire to protect his family—and how much was simply a reflection of his own fractured mind.