Rivers of the Night

"So strong…" Lyra said softly, her eyes glimmering as she looked up at the screen.

From time to time, she found her eyes bouncing toward the other disciples, expecting to see some discrepancy, something Theron lacked. But in the end, she continuously came to the same realization again and again…

Theron was actually better than the vast majority of them.

There was only one that made her question things, a single disciple that seemed to be near Theron—one that showed flashes of power and overwhelming strength that made it obvious he was still holding back a great deal…

Orin.

But as impressive as Orin was, and though Lyra couldn't sense his cultivation clearly through the screen, it was all too obvious that he was several realms beyond Theron—and even more obviously much older.

How could Theron possibly be so powerful?

Let alone Lyra, the Elders of the Nightingale Sect all felt a cold bucket of water dumped onto their heads. That cyclops would have ripped any one of them apart in a single instant. That beam of light that first attacked Theron could have already ended all their lives.

How Theron used a mere Silver Resonance technique to block it—they had no idea.

How Theron actually managed to go as far as killing it—they were even more baffled by this.

Now, Theron sat at the top of the leaderboards, his power practically radiating toward them through the screen.

If they had been surprised by the disappearance of the Fourth Elder before, now they had almost no doubt that it had to be related to Theron in some way.

Matriarch Macie, though, stood in silence, her expression not changing in the slightest as she watched Theron's screen alone, detailing every little thing she saw. It was like nothing else in the world mattered, and yet it was somehow simultaneously unable to move her.

There wasn't even a twinkle of fascination in her eyes. Instead, there was a deadpan sort of observational grit and rigor, the sort that made one feel that even if the world was ending around her, she would never look away.

Lyra swept a quick glance toward Macie and then back, feeling a cold chill even deeper than the one that hung around them. She didn't know what was wrong with this Matriarch of their Sect now, but she found herself hoping that even with the strength Theron had displayed… that he didn't get on her bad side.

Clenching her small fists, she looked back toward the screens and then landed on Orin again.

As for threats in the immediate future, she hoped that Theron could beat Orin as well.

**

Orin looked at the leaderboard again. Standing with his hands clasped behind his back, his white and sky-blue robes dancing in the winds of chilling Ice Mana, floating hollow disks of silver mowed down everything in his surroundings.

A bear Ice Spirit Beast lunged for his back, only to be diced into a dozen pieces before it could even take another step. All the while, Orin never looked back at it.

"Theron Galethunder…" he said softly.

He didn't believe it was a coincidence. The Third Elder had mentioned wanting someone to join them in benefiting from the true secrets of the Trial of Heart, and then this name he didn't recognize appeared. That couldn't be a coincidence.

Orin's steps came to a pause outside of the barrier of the Core Ring, trying to figure something out.

He had actually been moving toward the Core Ring quite quickly. The Core Region was too dangerous, but the Core Ring just around it would be perfect. At least that was how he had felt before Theron's appearance.

It had always been easy for him to take first place—he didn't even have to try very hard at all. But this Theron…

'Is he really a Silver Mancer?' Orin's gaze flickered.

To Orin, as the only disciple of a true Dome of Heaven expert in the Sect…

He had no intention at all of claiming anything but first place.

Just as he was about to take a step, he turned to the side. His gaze sharpened like a hawk's, feeling that someone had actually stepped into the Core Ring ahead of him.

'… Is that so?'

It was impossible for it to be Theron. The trouble with not having your Third Eye was that orienting yourself in this place was difficult. However, Orin's special attack method and Echo allowed him a method of circumventing this and feeling out enemies from a greater distance. This was also why his points shot up without much effort.

Others had to wait for the Ice Spirit Beasts to come to them, but he was different. Not to mention the fact he could attack from a distance.

Orin looked back at the leaderboard. Calculating for a moment, he realized that he was right. At the pace Theron's points were skyrocketing, he wasn't in the Core Ring yet either. That meant that someone else had actually entered first.

'Curious. Master gave me a vague warning about the Mercenary Guild before I left today. Is this what she was talking about?'

The Mercenary Guild was tricky. They played a balancing act of neutrality, but everyone knew that it was one of those things that shouldn't be stress-tested too much—especially if you were a power on the level of the Hall.

Maybe those enormous Sects out there truly had nothing to fear from the Mercenary Guild, but Sects in the middle—or even weak ones—had to be wary. The Mercenary Guild might not dare to act too brazenly, but if they took something that could at least be semantically explained away with fairness, there was little the Hall could do.

On the one hand, the Mercenary Guild had to keep their veneer of neutrality and cordiality. But they also existed to protect their own as well. Without ironclad reasons for lashing out, they couldn't.

'Whatever you want… I won't let you have it.'

Orin entered the Core Ring with a step, his Mana flaring.