Rivers of the Night - Chapter 355

Chapter 355: Clues
Theron’s expression became deathly calm, everything slowing around him. He didn’t have much stamina left mentally; he felt that he had truly squeezed himself dry just to get to this point.

But as far as he was concerned, this wasn’t nearly as intensive as battle. He began rifling through his memories, trying to find something analogous to this inner armor.

What did he know?

He knew that it was heavy. He knew that it had pricked him several times, seemingly sampling his blood. He knew that it didn’t have any obvious runes or patterns on it, and yet it was moving as though it were some sort of living entity. He also knew—or rather speculated—that Vellan hadn’t been able to take it off, to the point that he had to layer another inner armor on top of it just to give it some use aside from its durability and heft.

Theron’s eyes flashed.

There was one other thing he knew as well. That inner armor had caught his attention because it managed to shatter his dagger. Back then, he remembered being shocked because that shouldn’t have been possible.

When he concluded that it was a Gold Manaborn inner armor, it was somewhat more acceptable, but was he correct about that?

A Gold Manaborn armor… Were the Seijin really so rich that they could give such a thing to a Silver Mancer they saw as nothing more than a servant?

Maybe. Theron couldn’t completely dismiss that possibility. But…

Theron’s gaze shifted to the scattered bits and pieces of the cover armor from before. He was looking for something, his pupils moving so fast they left blurs of black in his eye sockets, quickly hopping from place to place until he found it.

Just a little piece of a rune, something that managed to survive just enough.

‘Silver.’

Theron realized it right then.

Vellan had been wearing a Silver Manaborn armor; it was just that this inner armor was able to elevate it to Gold.

That was the last piece. It was just Theron’s turn now to put all of this information together.

His mind spun on overdrive, trying to understand what he was working with.

A treasure that needed blood? He had never heard of it. There didn’t seem to be an obvious answer.

This sort of symbiotic armor that somehow worked with a Wind Mancer and was now just as eagerly coming onto the body of a Water Mancer also didn’t make sense. If bloodline was what it was after, then why did it not have a preference of Mancy Path?

This armor could adapt; it took, but it also gave. But it was also cancerous, weighing down heavily on you.

Was there a way to stop it? It didn’t seem so. But there had to be.

The context that Theron was relying on was the Seijin. If they were able to use this armor to trap Vellan, using him as some sort of science experiment like they had with the others, then that could only mean that they had some sort of method of transferring the armor, no?

The armor was already halfway across Theron’s chest by this point, and it only seemed to be moving faster. As it moved to the center of his body, its excitement grew and Theron could feel more pricks against his chest.

‘It’s outlining my Meridians and setting itself up against them. It’s altering itself, mutating, evolving…’

Theron looked at the silver-blue state of the armor and found himself suddenly feeling a bit woozy. Just how much of his blood was it planning to take? Why did it feel like the more it took, the more excited it became?

Theron’s mind was still rifling through thoughts and possibilities. He really couldn’t afford to alter his combat style so drastically.

And then it clicked.

‘That’s what you are.’

It was a leap of logic, one that Theron wasn’t sure fit here, but everything pointed toward this direction. If he was lacking in information to make a better decision, fine. But unfortunately, he neither had a library of information to rifle through right now, nor did he have the time even if he did.

BANG!

The earth around Theron shook, and his hair exploded in a cascading rain of delicate pinks, violets, and blues. He looked particularly radiant in the middle of the dark forest around him. Even with so many corpses littered at his feet, he seemed impenetrable, godlike—beautiful.

The inner armor froze in place, a menacing weight falling onto it. It trembled on Theron’s body, almost whining as though it truly had emotions of its own.

‘I was right.’

An attachment to people? The ability to adapt? The capability to latch onto things and improve their strength and power? A quasi sort of sentience?

If Theron were simply looking at this list of facts from an external sense, he would recognize them immediately.

An Echo.

The Theron of the Nightingale Empire would have dismissed this thought, but the Theron of now had run into two odd Echoes. The first was Ironvale’s sword Echo, and ironically enough, not long ago, had he not run into Wren’s sword Echo as well?

What if he took this a logical step forward?

As one progressed through the stages of cultivation, one’s Echoes became more solid, more real. So… what if one eventually reached such a height of cultivation that one’s Echo completed a cycle, returning to life and gaining the ability to be independent once more?

Had he not just fought a sword with sentience? What was the surprise in facing off against an inner armor with sentience?

The moment Theron reached this point in his thoughts, everything changed for him. It was still a gamble; he had no way of knowing if he was right. But he also had nothing to lose. It was either this or let this mysterious item take root on him as it pleased.

But now…

“Take it,” Theron said coldly.

There was a shudder in the armor, its whining becoming fear. But it was already far too late.

The image of an Immortal Jellyfish appeared behind Theron, swaying gently, its beautiful silky strands leaving a delicate mist in the air.

And then it pulled.