Rivers of the Night - Chapter 80

Chapter 80: His [Golden Ticket Bonus]
Theron was unmoved by the words. Deep inside, he would have sneered had that been in his personality to do. He would be a fool to trust anyone who killed for a living.

Who knew how many women, children, and elderly the old man had killed in his life. There was no mission an assassin wouldn’t take if the pay was right and the challenge suited them.

When you reached the level of the old man, you had to have become so indifferent to killing that it came with your inhale and exhale. If it suited him, Theron didn’t believe for a second that the old man wouldn’t kill him right here and now.

For him to take him under his wing meant that he needed something.

It had to be remembered that this wasn’t part of Theron’s plans. He didn’t think the old man would take him in. The fact that he dared to claim the Nightingales would be able to touch him either was an especially interesting touch.

Theron couldn’t help but wonder… just how deep did this pool go?

Still, none of that stopped a light of excitement from flashing briefly in his gaze. As much control as Theron had over his Mana, his control over his expressions and emotions just might be even more shocking.

And of course… such things were also in the tenets of an assassin.

The old man didn’t even ask Theron to kneel and acknowledge him as his disciple. Maybe amongst assassins, these things were entirely unneeded.

“What cultivation method do you practice?”

“[Water Conventions],” Theron replied.

The old man’s eyes narrowed. “You cultivate the most widely circulated method of Water Mancy cultivation?”

“It’s the one that’s been vetted by the most people.” Theron replied simply.

“Ha…”

The old man chuckled, looking Theron up and down. By now, he could certainly afford a better cultivation technique, but he didn’t bother to get one. Instead, he used the slowest method available to him… and yet had somehow reached the Eighth Resonance so swiftly.

But this method… was also the one without the slightest holes.

It was just as Theron had said, his cultivation method might be slow, but it was also the one guaranteed to not have the slightest flaw at least until the end of Gold Mancy.

“What techniques do you practice?”

Theron listed them—all five.

“You practice five techniques?” the old man frowned.

“Three are at the Consummate Barrier, one is at Adept, and the last is at Proficient.”

The more questions the old man asked Theron, the more ridiculous he found it. He didn’t know whether he was listening to a child speak, or a fictional character.

Slowly, he shook his head.

“… Like I said, I can only teach you assassination techniques. But understanding your foundation is necessary. As you know from the tenets, it’s not about what you know, but about how you apply them.

“I will teach you two methods, both of which are related to Veinsong. The first is a concentrated attack that channels the focus you gain from Veinsong into a powerful blow that is as much as double your baseline strength.

“The second is an escape method. This channels the focus you gain from Veinsong in a burning blood method that increases your speed as much as ten times. With your current body, you should be able to match the speed of a Higher Silver Resonance Mancer for a minute or two.

“Both methods are sacrificial and dangerous to use, especially for those of us who are not Flex Mancers.

“These Methods are known as [Songful Blade] and [Blood Escape]. Prepare yourself. The run here was for no reason other than to warm your body up.”

**

Three days later, the old man sat alone at his stone tea table, seemingly the only part of his little peaceful garden that wasn’t disturbed.

“I wonder…” he said to himself after a sip. “… Did I make a mistake?”

He looked toward some sliced rock in the distance, and then some deep foot plants imprinted right into the trunks of ancient trees.

Reaching forward, he pulled his tea pot toward him and then poured the steaming liquid, not into his cup, but onto a small plate. With a tap of his finger, an image began to sparkle into being.

When it solidified, an unexpected image reflected back…

Raiden.

“Even my little disciple here has only barely mastered those techniques… just what kind of monster are you, exactly…?”

The old man was a legend amongst legends. Theron had never asked for his name, nor had he ever shown any signs of giving it, and maybe that was good.

If Theron had known it, maybe even he would have trouble keeping his cool.

The non-descript old man was known by a single title. Four little words that reverberated not just across this province, but them all.

Cadence of the Crypt.

But maybe his more shocking identity right this moment was that of being precisely the overprotective master of Raiden.

**

Theron collapsed in his basement, his body spasming. It felt as though he had been swallowed by a cramp that went head to toe.

With his control over Water Mana, how could he, of all people, suffer cramps? But this time, he truly couldn’t control it.

His muscles formed balls and knots in his body, and even soaking in water didn’t seem to have helped. The balance of his body itself was off. Water alone wasn’t enough; he needed minerals, supplementation, food, and sustenance.

He understood enough about his body and bodies in general to know this. But that didn’t mean it would be any easier to deal with when just moving made him feel like death.

Unfortunately for him, there was a trembling of Mana that passed through his abode, a system to let him know that someone was at the door. And he got the very unfortunate feeling that he knew exactly who it was.

Teacher Burne had returned.

He grit his teeth, forcing himself up. What happened next would certainly be a large part of his plan.

If Burne had returned so quickly, it was only for one reason.

They wanted him to kill Thessa.

He could see their plans long before they had even decided on them. This was his chess board, not theirs.