The middle-aged woman screamed, being the first to notice what was happening.
In truth, it was an overreaction. Even if Theron fell from five meters, his current body likely wouldn’t even bruise—and that was assuming he didn’t land on his feet.
But what happened next seemed to make such a reaction more than warranted. In fact, it felt like it wasn’t enough.
Theron’s foot only slipped for a moment before it seemed to latch onto something.
He sprang forward, leaping up another five meters.
His foot slipped just the slightest bit once again. Discover stories at
’This should be about the correct rhythm… I’ve got it.’
Theron’s eyes flashed once again and he launched himself up seven meters this time. More confident in how much weight he could catch, he accelerated.
Mana didn’t just randomly attach itself to anything. But who asked the Luminescent Moon Sect to make their entire wall out of metal?
SHUU!
He soared up, his steps becoming faster. His hair fluttered in the wind, his robes whipping about as he soared past the final height, clearing the wall.
The old folks stood in silence. Even the fat middle-aged man had stood from his rocking chair, looking toward where Theron had disappeared with a cold sweat on his brow.
Was Theron sure that it was an Outer Sect Elder that had invited him?
Recommendations were rare, but one from such an existence was still next to worthless. Outer Sect Elders weren’t even Gold Mancers and many were weaker than active disciples. The fact they were given one recommendation slot a decade was already giving them face.
Most would just use it to flex a little bit of nepotism once in a while, and those disciples rarely if ever panned out.
But this young man…
For a moment, they began to wonder if they had made a mistake not trying harder to help out.
**
“Why are you bringing all of us here, Tenn?”
Tenn grinned. “It’s just to witness something funny. When have I ever steered you all wrong? Come on, we need to gather up more disciples.”
“To the worker disciple quarters? The stench here is terrible.”
“Fine, fine. Do you remember Theron Galethunder?”
Several in the party frowned. Most were outer disciples, but there were a large number of inner disciples as well. As a Silver Mancer, Tenn himself had obviously already crossed the latter threshold as well. ṙo͍ВΕš
But the gap from inner disciple to Core Disciple was probably something most of them could never bridge. Unless you could make it to High Tier Silver Mancy by 25, and pass the test, they would forever be inner disciples.
But that much already came with a great deal of prestige. Most of them would slowly accumulate and reach Gold Mancy one day, and that would be enough to hold up a small piece of the sky.
“The one who killed Beifong?”
The air became a bit stale. This was a great humiliation for their Sect. Even amongst the inner disciples, many were quite close with Beifong, realizing his talent.
They weren’t fools, they knew that once he finished accumulating, he would soar through Silver Mancy. Plus, he was the adopted son of a powerful elder. Even if he was weak, they would be foolish not to try and curry favor, let alone the fact he wasn’t.
But now he was dead, and it was a smack to the face of their Sect. It had left a great number of them infuriated.
Unfortunately, there was no way to get revenge—not until Theron entered Silver Mancy.
Beifong was already their strongest Bronze Mancer, and if they sent an inner disciple to deal with Theron, they would only lose more face.
As such, they had only been able to grit their teeth and endure.
Tenn sneered when he saw their reactions. “Would you believe me if I told you that he’s about to obediently crawl through that door?”
He pointed over his shoulder.
The region was barren, sand and dried soil pooling around on the ground. However, there was a flapping curtain dancing in the wind. From time to time, it would blow just enough to show an entrance barely tall enough for a young boy to walk through comfortably.
Anyone an inch or two above five feet would have to duck.
“What nonsense are you talking about, Tenn?”
Tenn’s sneer became a grin. “He came here to become a disciple with a three-month-old recommendation letter from an Outer Sect Elder. Can you believe the audacity?”
The disciples were stunned for a moment and looked toward one another. As the truth settled in, though, they too began looking toward the door, feeling their own eagerness set in.
Unlike the worker elders on the outside, they understood the Sect far better. They knew that even if the recommendation letter came from years ago—before Theron was born, even—it would still be active for use.
The power of recommendation was ingrained into their laws and practically as absolute as the veto powers of the Patriarch.
If they couldn’t block Theron from entering the Sect, and they couldn’t fight him for fear of loss of face, then humiliating him… yes, that seemed like the next best option.
“Interesting crowd. What are you all looking for?”
The gentle voice came from high above them. They all looked up at once, frowning as they noticed a boy standing atop the Sect walls.
It wasn’t that no one had ever been there before, but access wasn’t common and quite restricted.
But then, before they could even understand, under their astonished gazes, Theron took a step off of the wall.
At that sort of height, was he looking for death? They couldn’t even grasp what his intentions might be before their minds broke again.
Theron was just… walking…
Walking down the side of the Sect walls as though it was flat ground.
He touched down to the cracked soil and smiled at them.
“Is this a welcome for me? Hello, fellow senior brothers and sisters. Thank you for accommodating me.”