Rivers of the Night - Chapter 737

Capítulo 737: Calm

“KILL HIM!”

The shriek of the woman came the moment Theron appeared. There wasn’t a moment of respite or calm, simply rage and violence. A surge of Mana poured into the air, and Theron took a breath and then exhaled.

Something about the world felt calmer and more peaceful right now. That rage constantly beating in his heart felt more fleeting and far away.

All he could feel was that will to battle and fight, that will to struggle and conquer. To not just outsmart his enemies, but to crush them with power and strength.

A regal temperament pooled out of him in waves.

‘Not yet,’ Theron thought to himself.

Ever since he had gained his two Domain Spells, he had had an idea for how to use them that would likely shock the masses. Till now, though, he had had no confidence in executing it, even with his level of control. It would take too much, even for him.

But now, he felt this odd wave of unprecedented confidence, as though there was nothing in the world he couldn’t do—like a weight, while not fully removed, had been gently lightened in a way that left his spear flowing.

The Umbra Clan warriors surged, but they stood not a single chance. They might as well have been moving in slow motion.

A single Ninth Resonance Gold Mancer stood before them all, his spear thrusting just once for a life, twice for two, thrice for three. Agile and rippling, fleeting and flowing.

He exhaled a breath, and the world faded, becoming streaks and lines—moving masses of Mana reflecting across his irises. He had entered Veinsong even without realizing it, but it felt like a deeper level than ever before.

He wasn’t seeing warriors and their actions. He was feeling the formations of their Spells and techniques taking shape in the world around them, and the moment he did, he predicted the outcome before they even descended.

With a flicker of his wrist, a head flew into the skies. A warrior roared, only for a blade to split his mouth and sever his spine from the front.

Theron pulled his spear back, tapping a foot and flowing out of the way of another attack as though gliding across the wind.

The battlefield bowed to his whims. Like a chessboard reflected in his mind, he played three moves for their every one, cutting across their strategies, shattering their hopes and aspirations.

BANG.

Theron suddenly kicked out, and an empty space in front of him opened up to a face—a nose and skull shattering against the impact of his heel.

Power felt truly intoxicating.

Theron came to a stop, a cool breath leaving his lips. Cracks and icicles formed in the air, a frigid wind whipping by his hair and causing it to dance. There was a moment of silence until the entire battlefield seemed to fall around him.

The cultivators fell one after another, their blood soaking the city’s streets through.

Theron looked ahead. Whether it was Averi, Benni, or Analisc, they couldn’t seem to believe what they were seeing. It had all happened so fast, and often they couldn’t even trust their eyes.

Somehow, Theron’s spear seemed to be everywhere and nowhere at once. Sometimes it looked like he missed entirely; other times they thought he had already fallen, skewered by countless enemies—only for him to suddenly appear somewhere else.

He moved within the mesh of Mana as though a fist in water, his comprehension of Dark Mana so deep he used the Spells of his enemies against them as easily as they believed they would have worked on him.

The ground shook as more elite guards surged toward the region. But… would they make it in time?

Theron took a step forward, the squelch of blood echoing in the air like a pin drop in deathly silence. The movement seemed to awaken Averi and Benni, and the two roared, their Mana surging into a torrent. They unsheathed the swords at their waists and thrust forward in unison.

All the while, Analisc didn’t move a single inch, her eyes bulging as she looked at Theron. There was a focus in her gaze that didn’t seem to want to fade, but the more she saw, the less sure she was.

Just who was this child?

Theron tapped a foot to the ground and accelerated back for the first time. Elite guards surged into the region, and it looked as though he was about to be surrounded—until the situation suddenly changed.

Averi’s head flew into the air, the power behind his thrust falling deaf and silent until the clank of his blade reverberated across the dull pavement.

Theron appeared where he fell, his body wrapped in wisps of darkness as though he had become a human bundle of Mana. He seemed to have perfectly replicated a certain Quasi King without even thinking about it.

He was Darkness, and Darkness was him. It came with such ease he didn’t even need to think about it.

Comprehension left him in a daze for the briefest moment until danger warnings suddenly spiked.

Theron leaned back, his body curving out of the way of the heavy sleeve of a dress. He leapt back, palming the ground and flipping overhead.

He landed with a skid across the bloodied ground, but a palm had already appeared right before his face.

Fast. Sharp. Strong.

There were only a couple Resonance Tiers between the head guards and Analisc, yet it felt like a world of difference. But this should have been natural. One was a high-tier Dome of Heaven expert and the wife of the Umbra Patriarch, while the other group could only be guards.

Theron’s eyes glazed over as he dodged again and again, watching her palms pass over him, but he didn’t quite feel relaxed. He could tell…

She was just probing him. Even after everything she had seen, she still felt like she had the upper hand.

In that case…

Theron’s back foot ground into the earth. His spear struck out like the maw of a flood dragon, raging and roaring with billowing Darkness.