Rivers of the Night-Chapter 302: The Real Theron

Chapter 302: The Real Theron

Theron ate dinner in silence, the Alpha lying under the table beneath him. The warm bristling of its fur was actually quite calming to him. He had never had a pet before, but he had underestimated the value of having a companion. freёwebnoѵel.com

Sometimes, he found himself absentmindedly stroking the Alpha’s fur, which was a bit amusing considering its origins. This Gold Mancy Beast was probably one of, if not the, strongest existences in this entire city.

Of course, that was a bit of an exaggeration. At the very least, Elder Black was on a level all her own. The value of a bloodline with Runebound Resonance wasn’t to be underestimated.

But the Alpha most definitely had at least as much potential as a Black Clan member—and, considering it was a Mana Beast—far more.

Yet now, it was obedient as a little puppy, and such an anomaly that most treated it as though it was a regular dog.

As Theron was lost in his thoughts, a person slid into the booth across from him. Then came another, and then someone else took a seat right next to him.

Inwardly, he raised an eyebrow. He wondered if they would be so aggressive if they knew of Alpha’s true strength. But unfortunately for them, because Alpha’s Mancy path was so unique, no one could sense it properly.

“Hello, seniors,” Theron said politely. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

Ray of the Fourth Year military stream sat right across from Theron.

“What was that?” Ray asked in a low voice, ignoring the question.

“What was what?” Theron blinked in confusion.

“You know what we’re talking about,” Supra interjected, a Third Year from the military stream. She had never liked Theron in the first place, and of course, being from the Zhen Grand Duke Clan certainly didn’t help that.

“Do I?” Theron shook his head.

The third person in question was none other than Sigil, their replacement for their dead Second Year. But that fact was exactly what made this dynamic so weird.

On the one hand, they were mad that Theron had thrown the military stream round and made it impossible for them to make up the gap.

Though Sigil had done his best to overcome things, he had ended up heavily injured in the attempt.

What was also clear was that the use of targeting in the later rounds was far more subtle and carefully selected. Otherwise, these three wouldn’t be so confused.

But that much made sense. Why overextend themselves if they didn’t have to? Riyan had already lost handily, and Theron placed both himself and the Firewings in a poor starting position.

After the first round, the Aurans and Sangun had a considerable advantage, one that they could ride all the way to the end.

Ray and Supra clenched their jaws. On the one hand, they were struggling to rein in their tempers, but on the other, they knew that Theron was far too strong for them to bully.

They just wanted an explanation, but Theron wasn’t even giving them this.

“Seniors, there’s no need to react like this. When the final round comes, all grievances will be repaid.”

This time, it was Ray and Supra’s turn to blink in surprise. They looked at Theron deeply and then exhaled a breath.

“Okay.”

To the side, Sigil watched this in silence. He couldn’t help but wonder… just what had Theron done that made them so obedient?

Sure, he had been there while Theron was massacring the geniuses of the Thistles. But was that enough? It felt deeper than that.

‘Well… aren’t I the same?’

Sigil shook his head. At some point, he found himself having lost the willingness to compete with Theron.

That day when he built up the courage to raise his weapon, and yet Theron turned his back on him and chose to use him as a pawn to sow chaos in his family instead… Sigil realized the true extent of the gap between them.

If Theron had chosen to fight him—even if he beat him into the ground—Sigil would have had the fortitude to pick up his whip again and fight once more.

But right now… he felt completely and utterly deflated.

A part of him couldn’t help but wonder if Theron was so calculated that he had planned this as well…

To rip a man’s heart out without even lifting a finger. Just what sort of monster was he, exactly?

…

Theron left the restaurant in the dead of night, the second round having continued for much longer than the scholar round had. His robes swayed in the cool wind, the Alpha following at his side.

Only in the cultivation world would no one bat an eye as a two-meter-tall beast walked the streets. It was also only in the cultivation world that no one would bat an eye when a shadow suddenly manifested from thin air.

Theron’s steps stopped seamlessly as Chopra stepped across from him, blocking his path forward. There was a calmness to the both of them as a pair of blue and crimson eyes met across a not-so-subtle distance.

“For a First Year, you certainly have interesting eyes. I wonder… who trained you?”

Theron looked at Chopra, wondering if these words were an implication toward Daggers of the Night. But honestly speaking, though Theron credited Daggers of the Night with his rapid refinement into a warrior… he knew that one way or another, he would reach this stage.

“Does it matter?” Theron asked.

“No. No, it doesn’t… I just wonder if you react like everyone else when they face death. Will that facade fade away? Will I see your real face—one of fear? Or unwillingness? Will you beg for forgiveness? Grovel? Pray to some unknown god? What do you think?”

Theron gave him a glance and didn’t say a word. He took a step forward and brushed by him, vanishing into the distance.

It would be foolish to think that Theron liked to speak. His quippy remarks were used only when he was putting up a false showing. The real Theron… the scariest version of him… was the Theron no one could see through.

The real him.

This was it.

And when he came out, his only intention was to kill.