Theron closed his eyes.
Every time. It was constant, again and again.
A relentless attack on his psyche, on his heart. It was never just a blade, it was never just physical pain, it was never just a war of intellect.
They knew they couldn’t get him like that. He had simply never lost.
So instead, they took this route—the route they thought they could poke and prod at him with, the path they felt he was the most vulnerable in.
Theron’s body relaxed, his breathing becoming steady, the rainfall from above nourishing him in silence. He didn’t bother to respond to Patriarch Gian’s words.
However, Gian didn’t seem to mind. He just chuckled, looking over toward the old assassin.
"Old friend, it really is nice to see you. Any guesses at how long this will take?"
The old assassin gave Gian a look, but he too didn’t say anything.
"Well, no one seems to want to talk to me, but I can give my own read on the situation. Little Theron is quite intelligent, don’t you think? He’s probably figured out quite a lot. Maybe the reason there’s a war going on at the bottom of this mountain right now is at least 70% due to his actions.
"A clever, clever little boy, indeed. So why do you think he’s being so patient right now? What do you think he’s waiting for?"
Gian smiled. Theron didn’t react, but the old assassin’s eyes narrowed.
"Don’t you think it’s interesting that his cultivation is so fast, but he’s been at Quasi Silver for so long now—and yet he hasn’t even attempted to break through?"
Gian’s smile deepened further.
"I wonder, who does he hate so much that he’s waiting for? Who is he waiting to catch in his little trap? Who does he want to kill so badly that he’s waiting to gather all the experts in the world to create the strongest Tribulation in all of history? Hm?"
Theron’s eyes slowly opened.
"Oh, did I hit a nerve?" Gian chuckled again, but his laughter stopped when Theron’s gaze landed on him.
"You will die with him."
Theron’s voice was gentle, almost soothing to the ear, as though its resonance was caressing their eardrums. And yet, Patriarch Gian felt as though his spine had been dunked into a vat of icy cold.
After a long while of silence, Gian’s smile returned, but it too had turned icy.
He had come here today knowing that every single one of them would be putting their life on the line.
Today wouldn’t be as simple as killing Theron and being done with it. The irony of it all was that they needed him. They needed him to be the one that broke through the glass ceiling.
Was it foolish to antagonize the person that could break you free of the prison you had been stuck in your entire life?
Maybe. But only to those who didn’t understand the full story.
The legends said that it could only be one. If Theron was of his right mind, if he was perfect in every way, then it would undoubtedly be him.
However, how could Gian give up such an opportunity?
The one to ascend could only be him. He had given up everything, planned for so long, waited so patiently.
This child born to luck, granted his talent from the very Heavens his bloodline seemed to hate, wouldn’t be the one to take this from him.
It would be all his own to take. He would never allow another to take this step ahead of him.
Out from the fog, the frame of a woman burst through.
Karra Black gasped for breath, streaking lines of Water Mana following after her, forming and collapsing from shields to amorphous blobs again and again. Their formation and collapse matched the rhythm of her breathing, and it looked as though she was just too tired to maintain the form of her spells.
But when Theron sensed this through his Third Eye, he couldn’t help but give it a second glance.
That wasn’t normal at all—not even remotely.
Matching one’s breathing to one’s Mana was something he had never seen before. It definitely wasn’t a coincidence that her Mana was fluctuating to such a rhythm.
Although it was a fact that her control was waning, how one lost control when they were fatigued was also a measure of how much control they had at their peak.
This woman—Theron had never met her before, or even heard of her quite frankly—but she was good. Very good.
And a Water Mancer at that.
Theron had never met a Water Mancer on his level before, and though he felt that he was far stronger than this Karra Black, that wasn’t because her talent was lacking. It was because his store of Mana was much deeper and faster than her own, and his Resonance was a full level higher than hers as well.
Karra stopped running, her shields suddenly solidifying as she sensed many powerhouses around her. Her face flickered to confusion when she saw Theron tied up over the abyss, the chains locking down his wrists and ankles, but she didn’t have time to consider it for long because of the presence of the Patriarch and the old assassin.
Suddenly feeling like she was being outflanked and outranked, she grew extremely cautious, and her waning Water Mana seemed to have been reined back into her control.
Theron took note of this. It seemed that it wasn’t that she was too fatigued to control her Water Mana—it was instead that she was doing the equivalent of catching her breath by loosening her control on purpose.
He had also never seen such a thing before. It felt like the world of cultivation was far deeper than he knew even now.
"What a fascinating opportunity. The two best little Water Mancers in the world come together in such a way. Karra Black and Theron Galethunder." Gian laughed heartily. "What a twist of fates, indeed."