BANG!
The hammers of the behemoth of a young man shattered, his nose and face collapsing in as he fell by the side of the arena, barely breathing.
It wasn’t even obvious to those well above Theron’s cultivation how he had done it.
“You aren’t in the First Silver Resonance.” Rowan’s voice echoed coldly.
Theron blinked and looked over. “I don’t remember saying I was. But also, I can neither confirm nor deny. What obligation do I have to tell you what my cultivation level is?”
Rowan clenched his jaw.
The feeling of the density of Theron’s Mana made him feel as though he was already in the Ninth Resonance, but that didn’t make any sense at all. Who could accept something like that?
Yet, the subtlety and smoothness of the Mana, though it represented signs of someone who was incredibly experienced with Silver Mana, also made it feel a lot like First Silver Resonance Mana.
The completely contradictory thoughts made Theron an enigma.
Theron hopped down from the stage.
“Since there doesn’t seem to be anyone else, this is a waste of my time. I came here to be an academic, not a brute. I’m just a little Water Mancer, I’m not very good at combat.”
Countless heated gazes landed on Theron as he walked back to the counter, pulling his badge out and moving to a receptionist that wasn’t fainted on the ground.
“Please help me register for the entrance exams of the academic stream. If possible, book all the First and Second Year Exams for me as well.”
“Uh… yes…”
The receptionist wanted to reject, but he simply didn’t have any reason to. Plus… Theron’s power left him trembling.
The lingering words of sarcasm hung heavy in the air.
Water Mancers? Weak in combat? Even if it was true, who would dare to retain this thought as though it was some sort of ironclad truth now?
…
Rowan could only watch Theron walk away. He was right there, and yet he didn’t dare to fight.
There was something about Theron that felt like a deep, unfathomable well. The shattering of those hammers was without a doubt the largest impression.
Who had ever heard of a Water Mancer with destructive power to do that?
What was that spell? [Pressure Burst]?
Rowan wasn’t a scholar, but he had vaguely heard about this spell before. It was a complicated Water Mancy spell that basically no Silver Mancer was capable of using.
It was a spell available to both Water and Wind Mancers, but regardless of who it was, it required a level of control over Mana that was far too high.
The concept was simple enough: rapidly change the atmospheric pressure in a region, causing a shift from a region of high pressure to low pressure. Depending on the method used, it could force an item to crash in on itself, or for something within it to rush out.
The power of atmospheric control was unique to Wind and Water Mancers who also had the largest array of weather-related spells in general.
But to use a shift in atmospheric pressure to shatter a pair of Bronze Resonance Treasures?
Luckily this spell could only be used on inanimate objects not well protected by Mana… but even if those hammers hadn’t been well protected, they had certainly had their own skin of Flux Mana.
Just how had Theron done it?
Monster.
That was the only conclusion he could come to.
It was rare that a genius came from a nothing bloodline, but not rare enough that it never happened.
This Theron… he represented the potential rise of a Water Mancer bloodline.
‘We have to kill him. We can’t let the Thistle birth a powerful enough Water Mancy line to counter the Firewings…’
It seemed that this Rowan’s thoughts were far more meticulous than even Dean Thistles were.
**
News of Theron’s appearance spread like wildfire. When the results of his academic stream results came out, though, it was like the flames were doused in the most volatile of crude oils.
It burned wildly, insatiably, spilling over everything in waves.
A single student. A single day. A single string of Exams.
42 Credits.
In a single bound, Theron had claimed enough credits to graduate not from a branch academy, but the Main Imperial Academy, a smooth string of S Grades following his wake without a single hint of a slip-up.
By this point, news of his arrival to the Imperial Capital had reached the ears of many of the Clans he had offended, from the Knight Clans all the way up to the Marquis Clans.
But it also had to be remembered that among the few he had killed on that day, there was a youth that had killed the genius of a Duke Clan and yet survived to tell the tale…
Moreno’s Knight Clan was also alerted to the happenings.
Theron, however, was on a completely different mission as though none of the commotion had anything to do with him at all.
…
Deep in the night, Theron appeared at the window of a wooden cabin. Crouching on the sill, he watched the beautiful woman bathing down below with indifference in his eyes.
The woman suddenly froze and looked over her shoulder. She hadn’t even locked eyes with Theron when she jumped to her feet, a blade appearing in her hands.
The muscles of her torso tightened and her quads flexed, but her breasts continued to sway out of her control, soapy water falling down their curves.
Even so, much like the last time Theron had seen her in such a compromising position, her gaze remained cold and focused as though it simply didn’t matter how many eyes fell on her in such a state.
When she saw that it was Theron, she didn’t relax. If anything, she tensed more, the grip on her weapons tightening to the point her already fair knuckles went completely white.
Even as soap pooled into her eyes, turning them red and sending a stinging sensation pulsing through her, she didn’t dare to blink a single time.
The latch on the window broke and Theron hopped down calmly.
“Nice to see you again. I think we should have a talk.”