Rivers of the Night

Chapter 794: I Promise

Uyon felt slack. It wasn’t the same slackness from weakness he felt before, but instead like he was witnessing a world that didn’t make any sense.

That was a Chosen. That was a behemoth of a talent—one who had a cultivation even higher than Theron’s own, one who had been so powerful even a Saint like Uyon felt completely helpless against him.

The Chosen were like monsters in vaguely humanoid skin, existences that touched upon Resonances and talents that shouldn’t have existed in the world.

Yet, Theron not only called one of them weak, he had casually proven it in the next instant of time... because he had never lied.

Sure, if it had been before he went on his retreat, Inshwelu would have likely been an enemy he couldn’t defeat. But after grasping Profound Truth, Theron realized just how little actual cultivation mattered...

Especially when he had abilities like his [Entangling Blood Vein Pupils] and his Void Cores to help him control far more powerful mana than his body was ready to handle.

And none of that even mentioned the fact he had the body of a King Beast now. Theron hadn’t needed his Mana at all to defeat Inshwelu. He outpaced him in speed, in reaction, and in sheer strength.

He had only used his Mana just now because he couldn’t be bothered to dirty his actual hands anymore.

But he certainly felt better now. One less scummy Spirit Mancer in the world. Who knew, maybe if Spirit Mancers as a whole were wiped from existence, the world would be a much better place.

BANG.

A figure landed not far away, and Theron raised an eyebrow. It was another young man, but he oddly wore the getup of a butler, a single gold monocle attached to his left eye. The golden chain of the monocle dangled in the wind, and it seemed to focus the gaze of the young man on the dead Inshwelu.

"A moment please!"

The voice that had been too slow finally hung in the air properly and echoed across the destroyed city square. It seemed that whether it was his speed or Theron’s, both were much too fast.

"Well, this is unfortunate." Chosen Viensci clicked his tongue. Honestly, he couldn’t believe that his long-time rival had died so easily. "But this will probably be a problem for you."

"Oh? And why’s that?" Theron asked.

"Well, for one: all of the Demon Duke’s Chosen are Spirit Mancers."

"Is that so?" Theron’s smile deepened.

Chi.

Viensci’s head rolled off his shoulders just as his voice echoed out, once again lagging behind his actions.

"And second, Inshwelu is quite the annoying character to deal with because he happens to be a part of the Demon Form Guild. They’re quite protective of their members."

"Mm." Theron nodded as Viensci’s head plopped to the ground.

Just like that, the third and second Chosen of the Demon Duke were now dead.

"What’s the Demon Form Guild?" Theron asked, looking over at Uyon, who had seemingly still not picked his jaw up off the floor.

"The... Demon Form Guild... is a Guild of Formation Masters of the Demon Corps..."

"I see. And they like to protect their own?"

"Vehemently..."

"What was his rank amongst them?"

"Very high up... he never took a master because once you become a Chosen, your only Master can be the Demon Duke himself. But because of that, he had the favor of many while taking advantage of remaining neutral."

"Sounds to me, then, that no one is willing to actually stick their necks out for him all that much at the same time."

Uyon froze, realizing that Theron was probably correct.

Those sorts of relationships were very potent when someone was alive, but after they were dead, how many people would care enough to continue?

Alpha suddenly growled, and Theron raised an eyebrow. They both looked toward the distance, where a young woman sat on the edge of a roof, her feet dangling and swinging below. She rested an elbow on a thigh and her chin on its palm, staring at Theron intently as though she was watching something interesting.

Chosen Yonwei. The number one ranked Chosen of the Demon Duke.

Despite watching two of her junior brothers die in such fashion, she didn’t seem to react very fiercely at all. There wasn’t even a coldness coming from her; she just seemed quite nonchalant about it all, like it had nothing to do with her at all.

"Oh man, these guys really just come out one after another, huh? Where’s the familial love? The cohesion? The camaraderie?"

Theron raised a finger and pointed, but the young woman raised her hands into the skies in mock surrender... or maybe it was a very real surrender.

"You wouldn’t harm a lady who’s already given up, right?" she asked, a smile gracing her cherry lips.

In one moment, she seemed to have been in a completely different world, and in the next, she was flirting away.

"Was it your plan to deal with Ayame?" Theron asked.

"My plan?" Chosen Yonwei blinked. "Was there a plan?"

"Well, if you aren’t going to be honest, I will just have to kill you too."

There was a flicker in Yonwei’s eyes. Honestly, Theron seemed a bit too confident for her liking.

Her junior brothers were all in the middle tiers of the King Realm, but she was not. Yet, Theron didn’t seem to feel like there was much of a difference between them at all.

"Masterrrr," Yonwei blinked her large eyes and looked up to the skies, "You’re not going to let your favorite disciple die like this, right?"

Theron had already been looking up into the skies before Yonwei spoke, and clearly he was correct to do so.

It was hard to see clearly. It felt more like a shadowy figure than a real entity. Something about its presence was somehow both heavy and yet fleeting—so hard to grasp it might as well have not been there at all.

A Transcendent.

Theron had felt this aura many times before, and had been forced to run from it more times than he could count. There was something about Transcendents that felt wider than the skies above. If the Dome of Heaven Realm formed a dome of your own Heaven, and a King ruled it while a Saint blessed it, a Transcendent stood above it.

They peeled themselves away from the mundane nature of life and reality, looking down upon it like gods amongst men.

It was quite the cultivation realm, indeed. There was no doubt about it.

The eyes of this shadowy figure met Theron’s, and it felt like a bolt of cold ran through his body. It then shifted its eyes to its two dead Chosen, but much like Yonwei, it hardly reacted either.

Uyon didn’t even know what to say or do at this point. The only hope was that Demon Duke Urong hadn’t cared enough to appear—but what were the chances of that now?

There wasn’t a chance at all.

At that moment, there was a sudden fluctuation. A dilapidated and ignored teleportation pad lit up. There was no one to man it, so there was likewise no one to stop it. But by the same token, should anything go wrong, it was tens of times more dangerous to go through such a teleportation platform.

But then it stabilized, and a young, graceful woman walked out.

Theron didn’t miss the flicker of disdain that danced in Yonwei’s eyes for a moment. But as quickly as it appeared, it disappeared soon after.

Ayame.

Ayame’s feet paused, her eyes landing on Theron first. It was hard not to notice him. He stood in the midst of destruction—a handsome young man without much of an air to him. Yet it felt like the entire world was drawn to him nonetheless.

’What a powerful Profound Truth...’ she thought to herself.

Unlike her master, she wasn’t surprised that Theron was alive at all. This sort of person wasn’t the kind to die in silence in the wilderness. Theron’s path of death would be on a battlefield somewhere, stabbed through the heart by someone he had finally decided to open himself up to.

Why did Ayame have such a thought? Honestly, she wasn’t too sure. It just felt... appropriate.

But then Ayame looked toward her master, who hung from a rotting tree. Though he seemed healthy and spry now, it was very obvious that this was thanks to something Theron had done, and not because of the warmth of the Demon Duke.

"You did this?" she asked coldly, looking up at the shadowy figure in the skies.

There was no reply. Maybe that was because it didn’t have one, or maybe because it was still trying to hold onto the veneer of power and control.

"There’s really no need for you to answer. I’ve received the favor of Demon Prince DiBarr today. Release my master, or face the consequences. For every second that you don’t, I promise that the result will be worse for you."