Low stood in silence for a while, taking in his surroundings. His tongue couldn’t help but click when he sensed the first few droplets of rain.
’What an annoyance,’ he thought.
With a subtle pulse of Mana, his usual perpetual Mana skin was amplified an extra bit.
Usually, those who were combat veterans would almost always have a protective layer of Mana over them. Some did this for raw defense, others did it to detect subterfuge with greater ease, but regardless, it wasn’t usually enough to not be bothered by the rain.
This was because it was limited to the skin, whereas a rain barrier would need to cover the clothes and hair as well. The gap in Mana usage wasn’t huge, so it was still worthwhile for the majority.
Clearly, Low fell into this demographic.
Krr.
The snapping of a twig caught Low’s attention, and he looked back. He didn’t see anyone immediately, and he somewhat wondered how incompetent someone had to be to step on a twig of all things in this barren landscape.
’Maybe it wasn’t a twig and just a rock or something.’ There were tons of those around, at least. The difference didn’t seem to matter.
There was a flicker in Low’s eyes. He couldn’t be so lucky, right? To run into one of their targets so easily?
How could he not recognize Theron’s voice?
Low didn’t reply, his steps flickering.
This land was barren, but there were large collections of rocks everywhere, and the few sparse and half-dead trees here and there. There was plenty of cover in this region.
Unlike this idiot, he didn’t plan on making such a rookie mistake.
…
Theron shook his head when he didn’t receive a reply. Honestly, he had thought about seeing what he could get out of this young man without killing him first, but it seemed that Theron was on a kill list.
In a way, the fact Low was already emitting killing intent was its own form of information.
But it was also odd.
After the prince let him go so easily, Theron was fairly certain that the Nightingale Clan had decided to use him for their purposes, much like the Thistles had… and much like the Patriarch and the old man were.
Thinking through it all, he was somehow caught between what seemed like four factions, each one of which had its own goals.
This aside, the fact that he was being targeted for death now was… interesting.
’It seems that the alliance between the Firewing and Nightingale Clans isn’t so solid. Either that, or the Nightingales are hiding things from the Firewing, which is only natural. This can be used as well.’
Theron calmly added this to his rolodex as Low appeared to his back.
Even until now, he didn’t seem to have noticed the man at all, and Low hadn’t brought out his Mana, trying to remain covert until the very last moment.
’Their mission must be quite important to them, taking even a Bronze Mancer like me so seriously.’
Chi.
Low’s Mana flared, his sword passing right through Theron’s body and… hitting nothing. Continue your adventure at
Stunned, Low’s Third Eye activated.
Third Eye was excellent, but only when it was actually activated. The trouble was that others could sense it if a Third Eye locked onto them or passed over them.
Out of an abundance of caution, Low didn’t use his. And of course, Theron had sensed this and taken advantage.
[Touch of Mirage].
CLANG!
Low reacted quickly, blocking a dagger that was just about to separate his calf from his thigh.
Theron was a bit surprised that he reacted so quickly. Low was at the Third Resonance now, which meant he was probably at least Sixth Resonance before the suppression. Knowing he was faster than himself, Theron had aimed for the Firewing’s leg instead of the neck.
It was an awkward angle and it would force Low’s sword to travel a much further distance. Yet, the Firewing had still managed to block.
’Silver Mancers are, indeed, strong… especially when they’re veterans of battle like this one. Unfortunately, it still isn’t enough.’
Theron’s eyes almost glazed over, slipping into Veinsong. His second blade accelerated, water wrapping around him akin to the swaddle of a newborn.
It caressed the edges of his sword and dagger as though it couldn’t sense his lethal intent at all. Like a mother that closed her eyes to the fault of her child, the rain lovingly gazed upon Theron nonetheless.
Low hurried to make some distance, but his blocking angle was awkward and placed so much pressure on the knee he had just saved from decapitation that his legs buckled, slowing his retreat.
Leaning back, he blocked the short sword coming for his neck, only for a dagger to stab at his chest.
One attack flowed into the next, a relentless barrage like water broken free from a dam.
And yet the strikes almost seemed gentle. Not once did Low feel as though he was about to lose grip of his weapon, nor did he feel like he might fall over.
He snorted on the inside. In the end, Theron was still a Bronze Mancer, the gap was too big. Plus, they had all seen him lose to Caelan. All Low needed to do was regain his footing and then—.
DENG.
CHI.
Theron’s short sword suddenly accelerated, a heaviness falling like a meteor from above.
Low’s sword flew out of his hand, a foot sweeping at his calf and sending him flying in a spin through the air.
The last thing he saw as he fell parallel to the ground, still spinning as though he would land heavily on his neck, was a dagger that descended from above.
It was beautiful, no less as fluid as the others.
And then it resonated like a blade, its tip extending and piercing right through his neck.
BANG!
Low sputtered out a breath, trying to breathe and only expelling blood instead.
He died with his eyes wide in disbelief.