Rivers of the Night

Theron took one look at his blown-off door, shook his head, and then walked to the next door. Opening it, he stepped inside and accepted it as his new room without much of a care.

Whether he was allowed to be in this room or not didn't matter much to him. At the very least, a palace like this one would have a practically endless supply of guest bedrooms. Taking another wouldn't cause problems. It was just a shame he couldn't find a real cultivation room.

Truth be told, Theron had never had one before. The academy was the closest he had gotten, but from what he had read in the past, it wasn't considered a true Immortal Cave—the sort that could block off interference from others and bolster cultivation speed.

Regardless, this was just going to have to be enough for now.

Closing the door behind him, he found a place on the floor and crossed his legs in silent meditation.

He felt as though strings of something complex were rolling around in his mind. But it was much fainter now than it had been before.

'A soul attack…'

Theron was certain that that was what the white ninja had tried to hit him with. But he didn't even get a chance to defend himself before the latter collapsed.

In truth, Theron wasn't even sure if he would know how to defend himself from something like that, and it left him worried. What if next time it was someone far stronger?

From Theron's understanding, controlling and wielding the soul wasn't something that came easily to anyone. Gold Mancers had an advantage in this regard, but it wasn't common.

Theron only knew this much because of \\[Songful Blade], \\[Blood Escape], and \\[Soul Escape]. All of these techniques tapped into aspects of soul control, which was why the old assassin was so shocked Theron picked them up so quickly.

Maybe it was because of them, and the improvement to his Third Eye, that allowed Theron to rebuff such an attack with ease.

But, once again… what would he do when it was someone stronger?

'It wasn't just that it was a soul attack, but that this soul attack seemed to carry some wisps of the Mandate…'

This guild… Theron knew too little about them. Today was the first he had caught even their faintest wisps. But they were very interesting to him nonetheless, and he had a feeling that information about them would come to him whether he wanted it to or not.

In the meantime…

Theron pulled out the plaque, his eyes looking at it with curiosity.

He thought for sure that the Mandate Badge would take all his attention this time. He didn't expect that his interest would instead be pulled by this mysterious plaque.

'Was that man really telling the truth?'

It was odd… why would the guild care less about the Mandate Badge than they did this plaque? It seemed that, at least on the surface, the ability to call down a portion of Heaven's power was far more important than anything else.

But instead, this plaque, carrying a so-called Mandate Path, was far more important to them?

That white ninja did nothing when he took away Monet's Mandate Badge, but insisted on interfering when he took this plaque. It seemed that he would have to take advantage of that.

Unfortunately, Monet didn't have one on her body. But that went to prove how valuable it was all the more.

\\*\\*

Ott landed on the ground by the white ninja, waiting there in silence as the latter writhed in pain. Slowly but surely, the white ninja regained his bearings, looking up with a groan, a hand still pressed to his head.

With a smile, Ott bent forward and helped him to stand.

"Are you alright?"

The white ninja frowned. "Who are—?"

The eyes of the white ninja widened as though finally recognizing who Ott was.

"You…"

Instantly, the white ninja put two and two together, remembering what it was Theron said before he disappeared. There was definitely something about a master.

"You're his—."

Ott chuckled. "I guess that's the cross I must bear now. The things us cultivators do for power, hm?"

The white ninja blinked in surprise, not understanding what this was supposed to mean.

"You can go back now. I won't harm you, don't worry. Tell your superiors that they're free to come and talk to me if they would like, but I won't tolerate any of them bullying my disciple because he's a little curious. Though, if you all send low-tier Gold Mancers after him, I won't complain at all."

Ott smiled. It was the gentle smile only someone who spent their life immersed in books could exhibit to the best degree. But the white ninja still found himself shivering.

What was wrong with this master-disciple duo? Were they all madmen?

This task was supposed to be easy for him. The name of the guild alone was always enough for the white ninja to accomplish whatever he wanted.

How had things suddenly ended up like this?

"Were you… were you the one that blocked my Mandate Domain?" the white ninja asked after gathering up his courage.

"Your Mandate Domain? No, no. That wasn't me. If it was me, you would be dead."

The Scholar smiled the same smile, and the cold chill spiraled down the white ninja's spine once more.

Madmen. Truly a pair of madmen.

"I—I will go now…"

"Yes, yes, of course." Scholar McIntyre smiled.

The white ninja turned, rushing away. He slipped down a tree by accident, his coordination still not back up to full bore. But he caught himself on the ground and rushed away even faster than before. He had forgotten about embarrassment in favor of getting out of here as quickly as possible.

Scholar McIntyre didn't stop him, standing in silence.

"The guild is troublesome," Ott said, seemingly speaking to himself. "To benefit from them, one must be a Gold Mancer. But the best time to benefit from them is in Silver Mancy. I wonder. Is that by accident? Or have they always done that on purpose?"

Ott's smile deepened.