Theron exhaled a heavy breath, his lungs screaming, his Meridians being singed with a heat he couldn’t even begin to describe. He had used up too much Mana—so much that even a low-tier Gold Mancer would be on the ground panting right now.
Chopra was weak. So weak that Theron almost felt disgusted. It was only made worse by the fact his philosophy on battle was so completely infuriating.
He viewed battle much the same way one would expect any privileged bastard to view it. He had never had to fight for survival, never had to think of what his loss would mean for his family or the Clan that stood behind him, never had to consider anything but his own pleasure.
Chopra wasn’t the culprit behind what had happened to his family. Theron knew that better than anyone else. But he was a symptom of the same disease. No, maybe he was the disease in and of itself.
It made Theron’s stomach churn with a fury that he could hardly put into words. And yet just as savagely as that fury appeared was just how quickly Theron suppressed it, as though it wasn’t there at all.
His mind returned to a state of calm, his hair slowly relaxing, and the Blue Pufferfish armor around his body settling in. To the outside world, it looked as though his armor had dispersed, but only Theron knew that he was silently reabsorbing the Mana he had used to make it.
It was a seamless sort of transition as he accomplished what should have been impossible.
Mana that was already processed into a spell couldn’t just be taken back, as it had already been fused with atmospheric Mana and was technically no longer your own. If you wanted it back, you would have to cultivate it much the same way you would Mana at any other time. You couldn’t just reverse it on a whim.
And yet Theron had, because it was also infused with his Resonance.
A rain began to fall from above—not from the skies, but instead from Theron’s water prison. Mixed within, flesh, bone, and blood fell just the same, descending in masses of grotesque, twisted dreams.
The irony of it all was that the water fell much heavier despite being of much lesser consequence. By comparison, Chopra’s remains were like a delicate pitter-patter, falling in the midst of a rain of Water Mana so heavy that trees were split as though the arrows of Gold Mancers were running through them.
And in this carnage, there was no one else but Theron who was responsible for it all.
Now, there was a real silence on the battlefield. Aside from the crashing water, no one seemed to be in the mood for battle.
The Auran Army, and the latter half of the Sangun that had finally come to complete their pincer attack, were likewise frozen in the distance, unwilling and unable to move as though their hearts had been ripped out of their chests.
That wasn’t a First Year in front of them. That wasn’t a Silver Mancer either.
Theron took a final breath and looked up into the skies, his body having already recovered. All of a sudden, it looked like he was more than ready to jump into another battle whenever he so pleased.
And that was what he did.
There was no suspense at all, so much so that Theron was hardly using Mana at all and was instead replenishing it with every passing interaction.
The voice that spoke earlier obviously couldn’t interfere as they pleased, and there was no ending things unless there was an intention to stop and never complete the gathering.
At this point... there was simply no going back.
The Aurans were late and didn’t understand what was happening until they suddenly found themselves surrounded and attacked by a puppet army that was twice their size. nøvel.coɱ
A large part of the reason Theron hardly used any Mana at all was because directing the puppet army was more than enough.
They simply had an overwhelming advantage.
In the outside world, Crown Prince Aetherion Nightingale watched on in silence. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking. But those that knew him well enough could see just the slightest shrinkage in his pupils.
This result... this was not what he was expecting at all.
How could a Silver Mancer be so powerful?
And was that a breakthrough they sensed in the middle of battle? Did that mean that Theron was now a Quasi Gold Mancer? But why did his Mana still not feel like Quasi Gold Mana? Could it really be that he wasn’t at Ninth Silver Resonance like Saularon thought?
Just how much room did he have left to grow?
’Dangerous. Far too dangerous.’
Theron wasn’t something they could keep in a jar. He was a monster.
A monster that had to be killed in its cradle.
Elder Black held onto the armrests of her throne so tightly that it had cracked several times already. For an Elemental Mancer like her to do such a thing, one could imagine just how much effort she was putting into controlling herself.
She had sensed it more clearly than anyone else just now. Not only was she a Water Mancer, but she too knew the power of a Runebound Resonance when she saw it. It was the real reason the Black Clan held so much power, but it was also so coveted that only the elite of the elite of their Clan would unlock it, even if they managed to fuse with a Black Limo Tortoise Echo.
But Theron... he had comprehended it on his own.
Kelyne Black’s breathing became heavy. For a moment, she forgot how she had felt when Theron killed. It almost felt like she could make any exception for him.
But then the door to her skybox shattered.
Her head turned over as quick as lightning, fury building up in her eyes. Who could possibly be so brazen?!
But when she sensed the aura, she nearly collapsed. All of her fury became fear in a single instant.