Rivers of the Night

Chapter 742: Realization

Theron awoke to the rays of the sun with a slow movement of his eyes. He hadn’t moved the entire night, sitting in the same spot. And yet he didn’t feel stiff or restrained. If anything, he felt free and alive. And quite frankly...

He didn’t like it.

More and more, he was starting to feel like something was wrong with him, like something was shifting his views on things and his outlook on the world.

But what could that...

The realization hit Theron like a ton of bricks.

The Primordial Earth.

His soul, it had grown exponentially stronger in a short period of time, touching upon levels that shouldn’t be possible at his cultivation realm.

It was always ridiculous taht he had a Cloud Realm soul. To the people in this section of the universe, this essentially put him at the level of Ninth Resonance Dome of Heaven Mancers in terms of soul strength.

But, after gaining the Primordial Earth, he had gained characteristics to his soul that were even beyond the King Realm, touching upon certain secrets even these vaunted experts couldn’t fathom.

What this meant, though, was something troubling that Theron had no choice but to admit to himself.

The problem wasn’t him. It wasn’t even the Primordial Earth.

It was his bloodline.

The irony wasn’t lost on him. He was so obsessed with maintaining his connection to his family that he had always placed this bloodline, this pride, above everythign else.

Even now, he still felt that way.

But the truth was also plainly obvious before him as well.

His bloodline had been destroying him.

So much rage and heat. So much emotionless cold.

The dichotomy of the two, constantly pinging back and forth, constantly either suppressing him or sending him into a frenzied fury.

To be sure, all of those emotions had truly been him. But that didn’t mean that his bloodline hadn’t amplified them several times over. It didn’t mean that it hadn’t poured fuel on the fire.

But now... his soul was too powerful for his bloodline to push and pull him like it had in the past.

But there was also another piece ot the puzzle as well... his Dark Mana.

With the addition of two new Mandates to match and balance his original two, it had experienced a counter balance and a calming. When these two factors came together, it was like he had become an entirely new person. Or, rather...

He had returned to the Theron he had always been.

He could finally return to using Veinsong again, he could feel peace, he could sleep, he could feel caring and affection...

And once again, he didn’t know if he liked it.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that he could live and they could, that he could enjoy life and they couldn’t, that he could be here and they could never be anywhere again.

Theron closed his eyes, this time not to sleep, but instead to hold back the tears he could feel were coming. He took steady breaths, trying to restrain himself again.

There was a nuzzle at his chest and he didn’t need to open his eyes to knwo that it was Alpha. The warmth of his body was practically the only thing keeping the cold away at this point.

Feeling hatred... it felt a lot easier than feeling guilt. He didn’t want to feel like this at all. Who would he blame and punish for this? Himself?

Who else was to blame for guilt he was feeling?

Theron’s fingers sank into Alpha crimson coat, tightening his grip on the thick fur as though to find some sort of purchase, some sort of calm.

He took another breath, this one far shakier.

Alpha didn’t do anything mroe, hardly moving. All he did was just lie there, his large, heavy head on Theron’s lap.

Theron’s eyes slowly opened another hour later, read with grief and unshed tears. He felt like he needed some sort of distraction, something to take his mind off of things. So he turned his attention elsewhere.

Formations.

His teachers had always told him that he would probably be good with formations. Teacher Fern, of course, being the prime suspect. It was a shame that she wasn’t around to nag him anymore either, but maybe he would do this for her sake, then.

He had a rudimentary understanding of formations, and he had been relying on the change to his eyes until now to decipher other things, but that wasn’t good enough.

After he gained the Primordial Earth, the ability of his eyes to see through formation was only all the more exaggerated now. In fact, that was how he had managed to trigger the teleportation platform so quicky.

However, right now, he was like a supreme athlete with all the speed, strength, and flexibility in the world, but without the skill to play his sport of choice.

He had all the tools but none of the experience. If he wanted to truly become a Formation Master, or even concoct his own ancient pills, then he was going to need to be far better than this.

Since he still had some time to work with, he should truly learn to comprehend the secrets of the Angel and Demon Doctrine.

**

"Get off of me!" Analisc shrieked. "I can walk on my own!"

She stumbled forward after pushing a helper away. Wounds littered her body and it looked as though bandages were barely holding what was left of her body together. But that was only because she didn’t let the healers finish their jobs.

She wanted to speak to her husband right this moment.

BANG.

She burst into the throne room, fury written all over her face.

"Your son is dead!" she screamed at the man with a greying beard. He didn’t even look up from the documents that were being held up before him by wisps of Dark Mana.

The Patriarch of the Umbra Clan truly had an odd appearance. Almost as if...

He was an older version of Patriarch Nightingale.