Theron's eyes snapped open.
Power brimmed through him, his head rushing up from the table it had just slammed on.
Barely a few minutes had passed, and he had expected as much. When he noticed how focused he was, he knew that he couldn't allow himself to lose control of his body for so long.
The only option at that point was the breakthrough into Fourth Resonance.
Luckily, the pressure he put on his Core by continuously draining it had allowed him to push through the final layer. While he had still lost consciousness for a short while, it shouldn't be enough to put him in real danger.
The moment he awoke, though, he found two pairs of eyes staring at him maybe a little too intently.
Theron blinked and then smiled lightly.
"Sorry, I was very focused. Thank you for the lesson, Dean Pennel."
"The lesson?" The old woman was speechless. She was pretty sure that she had been accusing this brat of killing her disciple. What was the relation between these two things?
It could be said that the Bronze and Silver Cores were also known as False Cores in the cultivation world. The True Core didn't manifest until one reached Gold.
To do what Theron had done with a Silver Core simply made no sense.
And just what was that breakthrough? Was that truly someone entering the Second Resonance? It felt more like he was breaking into Gold Mancy.
But it was very clear that he was still using Silver Mana.
Dean Pennel leaned back into her chair, looking at Theron silently for a long while. She wasn't in a rush to speak anymore, but she seemed to also realize that intimidating this boy the way she wanted to was going to be impossible.
Something told her that even if Theron chose to display some fear, it would be little more than a facade.
After a while, the Dean smiled a gentle smile. She had a much better idea.
"I'm rejecting you from the academic stream."
Theron blinked, but his eyes only seemed to lose a slight hint of gentleness to them as he looked at her intently.
The Dean's eyes narrowed. This was certainly not the normal reaction of someone who was being screwed over.
"The Main Imperial Academy is not like the branch academies," the Dean continued without missing a beat. "Those that graduate from the academic stream with a passing grade are guaranteed a low-tier government position. Those that graduate as Honored Imperial Scholars and meet the 66 Credit cut-off mark are guaranteed a mid-tier government position. Those that graduate as Perfect Imperial Scholars and clear all 99 Credits are guaranteed a high-tier government position.
"There is no working your way up, no probation period, you immediately start influencing the decisions and direction of the Empire.
"Because of this, students aren't just accepted based on their skill and merit, but also their character.
"Your character is lacking, as you've proven several times already. And I'm not comfortable with the pace at which you are gathering credits. At this rate, you are guaranteed a mid-tier government position, and that's about as good as leading a hundred thousand-man army."
Dean Pennel shook her head, but Theron didn't respond as though he was waiting for something.
The Dean only smiled. So, Theron nodded.
After saying this, Theron stood to leave.
"If that's everything, then I'll excuse myself."
The Dean's lip twitched, but by the time she thought to say something, Theron had already left, the door softly clicking closed behind him.
A silence fell in the office. Well, it was silent until Fern chuckled and she hurried to cover her mouth as the Dean's head whipped over.
Fern coughed. "Nice weather we're having, hm?"
Theron looked up into the skies.
'It's going to rain soon… hm, maybe I can use this…'
Dean Pennel's words had long been forgotten by him. Quite honestly, he didn't care. It didn't matter much to him what he faced, he was indifferent to it all—humiliating or not.
There were a million things he could have said in response, up to and including pointing out the fact it was Dean Pennel's own disciple that had traveled to his city for no other reason than to kill him. Was that morally upright to the Dean?
But the words would have been wasted.
He could tell that Dean Pennel was trying to hint at him to do something else, but he didn't have the time to get wrapped up in the schemes of yet another old monster.
If nothing else, his rejection was even more useful than his acceptance.
But now wasn't the time to use it. He would be asking for death if he did something like that in the Imperial Capital.
Others might think him to be reckless, but he was toeing a very fine line right now.
With that thought, Theron silently slipped into the shadows.
"You got embarrassed."
"Say one more word like that and I'll fight it out with you right here and now." Rowan growled.
"You're a peak Outer Disciple of our Obsidian Eclipse Sect and you didn't even dare to fight!"
"He said anyone beneath Third Resonance! BENEATH!"
"You can fool someone else with that bullshit, but me? You were scared to step onto the arena and you know it."
Rowan threw his glass of brown liquor against a wall, the splash of sparkling crystal and dark gold playing against the aged wood of the bar.
He glared at the young man speaking to him, veins bulging across his forehead. But seeing the sneer he got back, he eventually took a breath and turned, opening the doors and leaving.
The word made Rowan see red. But he was simply no match for a genius of a Duke Clan. He might be second-ranked amongst Third Silver Resonance Mancers in his family, but he was only barely top 100 among them in the whole Sect.
'One day I'll take your head, Alden Nowlan. You wouldn't be the first of your family to die because you ran your mouth too much.'
Alden sipped at his drink for another few hours before he got up, leaving the bar with a strut in his step.
He steered down an alley to take a piss, not knowing those would be his last.
His head flew through the skies as the drizzling rain fell on his corpse.
The word "Rain" was etched into his chest.