Rivers of the Night

Theron looked at Sigil's hand for a long time.

An oath taken on one's Core was heavy. It was the one Forbidden Spell that any cultivator could cast themselves.

Sigil's request was unexpected… the oath was even more so.

Reaching forward, Theron took his hand.

"Alright."

Sigil grinned, his fingers tightening around Theron's hand.

"Good! In that case, I look forward to hearing about our success."

"You aren't coming?" Theron asked.

Sigil sighed, shaking his head. "It's not something my father would allow. I'm his only heir. This will be left up to you. I have a feeling, though, that when you return, you just might be able to stand shoulder to shoulder with me."

There was a sincere grin on Sigil's face. He hadn't made his oath lightly.

"Alright, I've done my duty. If you survive this time, everything will change."

"I will," Theron said calmly.

There was a flicker in Sigil's eyes, and then he slowly nodded. After seeing the procession, it was hard for him to find the muster to doubt Theron.

But something told him that though on the surface, only Bronze Mancers could enter… the tides were shifting.

If this tower was as important as it seemed, very soon, news of the secret realm being open to Silver Mancers as well would likely spread.

Theron himself had already felt the oddity in the Patriarch's words, as though the latter was leaving a clue behind for him to figure it out himself.

But regardless of what the challenge was, he didn't plan to lose his life. Not before his revenge was complete.

…

Sigil watched Theron leave, exhaling a breath.

There were certain talents that couldn't be controlled. It was either you killed them before they grew, or you became friends with them.

His father had chosen to kill. But his father's methods were also the reason even in the midst of this chaos, he still had to be wary of his own uncles and cousins. It was why he had never been close to his own late brother.

Sigil planned to take a different path for himself.

The oath he had made today wasn't just a promise to Theron, it was an assertion that he would stand against a decision his father would likely try to make in the future.

That came with a completely different weight to it.

**

Theron returned to Daggers of the Night several times over the course of the next two weeks. This time, it actually took him quite some time to learn these new techniques.

[Soul Escape] wasn't nearly as intuitive. He couldn't even sense his own soul very clearly.
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Ironically, it was only thanks to the existence of the curses on him that he could feel it out.

Of course, he knew where the soul was—located at the center of the forehead. But knowing where something was, and intently feeling its existence were two different things. Even when he implanted the Soul Tie Jade into Kai, it was only by pressing it into the general location.

Obviously, that had been good enough for then, but the same couldn't even remotely be said in this case.

According to the old man, the soul decided more about the lifespan than the body alone did. A sliver of energy from the soul was worth hundreds of times the same density of Mana.

If you could pull out this sliver, the explosion of power one could gain would be shocking. But if you took too much, there was no going back.

By the same token, because it was so difficult to control, and because it was so energy dense, you had to constrain it well.

Much like [Blood Escape], all of the energy was concentrated into fast-twitch muscles, mostly of the legs, though some energy radiated elsewhere.

Theron had truly never felt so challenged before, not when it came to matters of control.

But… wasn't this exactly what he wanted?

He was so enamored with mastering [Soul Escape] that he never tried to segue it into any other understandings. And yet, he didn't regret it in the slightest.

…

The old man watched Theron leave, his eyes following him for much longer than maybe even the boy was aware.

'Odd… his progress has always been so fast. Why has his cultivation slowed so much?'

The excitement of Theron's progress seemed to be growing dull to him. Not dull as in it shocked him any less, but instead that he had grown used to it enough to begin to see some things more clearly once again.

The odd and sudden slow crawl of Theron's cultivation gave him cause to pause. Was his rise not nearly as natural as it seemed? Had he maybe taken shortcuts?

But that didn't make sense. Someone that had taken shortcuts wouldn't have nearly as much control over his strength as Theron did…

In the end, was it really just a lack of talent? Was there no amount of comprehension abilities that could make up for raw talent?

The old man looked down at his teacup and shook his head.

There was a reason he had said that there were no geniuses beneath Gold Mancy.

'Well, I guess there's no need to rush it. Let him keep proving himself. I've already found my True Chosen anyway. If I get another, then good. If I don't, then I just wouldn't be the luckiest man alive.'

Raiden was still rough around the edges and hadn't been given the best resources; otherwise, he would have reached Gold Mancy long ago at just 16 years old.

But the old man wanted him to struggle, to feel that hunger that could drive him forward. Only that way could he forge a true killer.

As for Theron, if he really lacked the talent, then using him as a whetstone while Raiden was still so weak was good enough as well.

**

Theron returned to the Luminescent Moon Sect, feeling that there was something off about its atmosphere immediately.

'Right on time, it seems…'

The Secret Realm would certainly be opening up soon. It wouldn't be long before he was called.