Rivers of the Night

Chapter 796: Rich?

Ayame hadn’t had much of a reaction to anything. She only stood there, her expression as icy cold as always. However, there was one part of her that was quite stark in contrast to everything else.

Her hands.

They were coated in blood that had yet to even dry.

What was particularly odd about this was that she wore armor of white and silver, alternating in plates of hard metal that reminded one of mithril and a gorgeous white leather.

This armor, though, was completely unscathed. There wasn’t even the slightest mote of dust on it at all. It was like Ayame had chosen to dip her hands and nothing else into a pool of blood.

"Is that so?" Urong said calmly. "Then you should ask me one more question, then."

"Which question? I assume it’s not that one?"

"You should ask me what the cost of advice from a Transcendent is," Demon Duke Urong said calmly.

"I think you mean that I should ask what the advice of a Transcendent who didn’t experience the baptism of a Primordial Destruction Bolt is, no?"

The shadowy form of Urong flickered and vanished, revealing a man with dark grey skin and horns of black that curved into a deep crimson at their tips. He wore robes that looked almost as though they were still dripping in blood, and when he appeared in his full form, it looked as though the sun itself dimmed.

He raised a hand, pointing it down toward Theron.

"I think I made him mad, Alpha. What do you think?"

Alpha responded with a growl.

"Ayame, what happens if I kill a Demon Duke?" Theron asked.

"... Will you join the Demon Corps?"

"Sure."

"In that case, you take his rank."

"Even if I’m not a Transcendent?"

"Yes. Though..."

Theron laughed. "You don’t need to explain. I understand."

What she wanted to say was obvious. As someone who wasn’t a Transcendent himself, the amount of trouble Theron would face as a so-called Demon Duke would far surpass anyone that had ever come before him.

"What if you help me?"

Ayame’s expression was deadpan, but her lip couldn’t help but twitch.

"What?" Theron said innocently. "I never said I could kill him alone."

There were some sighs of relief, but even more than that, they were wondering if Theron had a few screws loose. If he didn’t have such an ability, why would he say such a thing?

"I have no interest in being a Demon Duke," Ayame said. "And it wouldn’t count if you had help. It would be an assassination, and it would be frowned upon."

"Mm..." Theron nodded. "How rich is he?"

"Probably richer than you," Ayame said.

"I see..." Theron nodded again as though he had come to a decision. "Alright. I expect a reward for this."

Ayame only stared at him blankly, but Theron had already moved.

Urong couldn’t believe what he was seeing until the Dagger Call Platform suddenly flashed, expanding until it swallowed up the skies. The sun was completely blotted out, leaving nothing but a rotating disk of complex grooves and etchings as their sky.

Theron came to a stop across from Urong, and the size difference between the two couldn’t have been more obvious. Theron was already not the tallest man there was, but Urong must have stood at eight feet at the shortest.

"Another question, though," Theron asked. "Are you considered human?"

This was the first time Theron had run into such a thing. Looking at Urong now, it was hard to tell if he was truly human or not. He looked more like a real Demon.

Urong’s only response was a sudden palm, though.

He had only just moved when a suffocating pressure crashed down from above. His arm stalled, and his soul felt like it was being ripped apart.

The Demon Duke looked into the skies, his expression finally changing just the slightest bit. Was this thing the reason Theron had survived his earlier soul attack? No, even if Soul Treasures were incredibly rare, they had to be used by those of equivalent strength. Theron wasn’t even a Soul Mancer either, so how was he controlling it? The only way that was possible was if...

It acknowledged him of its own accord. A Soul Treasure acknowledging anyone or anything other than a Soul Mancer? How is that possible?

BANG.

Theron’s fist landed on Demon Duke Urong’s chest and, distracted, the latter took a single step back.

Urong looked down at Theron’s fist, seemingly in shock that a mere King had managed to touch him at all.

Theron took a step back as well, shaking out his wrist.

"Wow. You Transcendents really are sturdy."

Urong was still staring blankly. What the hell was going on? A King made him take a step back? He didn’t care even if he was distracted. Even if he had been completely unconscious, something like that shouldn’t have happened.

The worst part was that his senses were sharper than anyone else’s...

Theron wasn’t a Flux Mancer, yet all he had used just now was his fist. No Mana, no enhancements from his treasure or any other treasure for that matter... nothing.

If anything, Theron had put effort into making sure the Mana around him didn’t react to his movements because he knew it would naturally, due to his Profound Truth.

This... didn’t make any sense.

"It seems that this is going to be quite the battle. You Demon Dukes have earned your place in the world, I acknowledge it," Theron said with a smile, unsheathing his dagger and short sword.

Urong couldn’t help but be drawn to the dagger. It felt like Theron wasn’t holding a blade in his palm at all, but rather a soul-sucking abyss.

Theron’s last dagger, like so many before it, had been destroyed in battle many times. This one had actually been casually crafted by Theron’s own hand. But the more Urong observed it, the more constricted his pupils became.

How could a King ever get his hands on such materials?