“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”
BANG!
Dean Slater slammed the door to Dean Pennel’s office behind him, absolutely fuming. The latter had defused the entire situation, and though technically speaking, she had toed the line perfectly and there were no faults to pick, this wasn’t nearly enough for Dean Slater.
They could have gone for blood, really flexed their muscles here, but the end result was something that could only have been considered “not bad.”
All things considered, the task that Dean Pennel gave Theron was incredibly difficult, and it was a genius maneuver.
The Thistles were trying to shift everyone to the Sects and undermine the power of the Imperial Clan. But now one of their pawns had gotten caught by them and would be forced to act on their accounts.
If Theron succeeded, all the glory would be that of the Imperial Clan’s. And if he failed, it would be a matter of ease to flip things and blame the Thistles again. They would also have a convenient excuse to handicap one of the best pawns the Thistles had.
No matter where you looked these days, Theron seemed to be everywhere.
Some things had calmed because Theron wasn’t at the forefront of the Secret Realm incident. But the fact he had managed to survive such a massacre spoke for itself.
“Whose door did you just slam?” Dean Pennel hadn’t said a word as Dean Slater went into a tirade. It was only when she sat down that she finally seemed to notice that there was a furious man in front of her.
Dean Slater’s eyes narrowed. “Do you think I’m a child? Do you think I fear you?”
“Fear me? No. But you should fear my son.”
Dean Slater gagged on his breath. This woman was truly shameless. But could you blame a mother for relying on the child she had pushed out herself?
“So I’ll ask you again. Whose door did you just slam?”
Dean Slater grit his teeth. “Don’t try and scare me with a man who’s a million miles away. He could die any time.”
“Is that so?” Dean Pennel nodded slowly, her smile appearing again just as gentle. No, even more so… almost sickly sweet. “Mm, I will keep that in mind, then.”
Dean Slater trembled involuntarily. Then, somewhat stiffly, he turned back to the door, ready to leave.
But then it was as though he had gotten a small boost of confidence from some unknown place. Or maybe it was simply his own foolishness shining through.
“Your stubbornness will just lead to the downfall of your Clan eventually. You only have one man holding up the skies, a man with no heir at all. You have no husband by your side, and all you do is play around with handsome little boys all the time as though this will save your pitiful future.
“You’ve been left behind by the times long ago. And there are ways to deal with your kind.”
Dean Slater ripped the door open and slammed it closed again on the way out.
Dean Pennel didn’t say anything in response, but murder flashed in her eyes. Twenty years ago, she would have already taken his head clean off his shoulders.
But twenty years ago… her husband was still very much alive.
After a long while, she sighed and her anger deflated. Why should she waste her time with someone who was just a pawn of a pawn?
Sometimes she wished that her son wasn’t so stubborn, that he didn’t have to hold up the skies on his own. But… he got that from his father. She couldn’t change it now even if she wanted to.
The world was undergoing an upheaval, and her son felt that it was his responsibility to set things right. It was just that he was foolish enough to think that he could do it all on his own.
Until he was strong enough to ensure that no pain or hardship came to his child, he refused to have them.
Having experienced the loss of a parent, he had no desire to put his own son through such a thing.
What he didn’t realize was that this was just the way of the world. Even if he grew strong enough to hold up the entire sky here…
What about the sky beyond that?
And the sky beyond that one?
In the end, she could only do her part. She had to raise a generation that could stand by her son. But maybe… she had focused too much on their talent and not enough on their character.
‘… What choice do I have?’
Her aged hands slowly pulled out a file. The pages were worn from how much she had read through it, filing out every detail of Theron’s life that the Empire had managed to gather.
‘A young man with so much hatred in his heart… am I about to make another mistake? Will he help the Empire? Or will he destroy it?’
The answer to that question was one she didn’t have. It all depended on just how large a fingerprint Theron had had on recent events.
The trouble was that she didn’t have enough evidence for her conjectures at all. But if she was correct…
He would almost certainly destroy the Empire.
‘… And maybe that’s for the best.’
She closed the file again, rubbing her hands across its worn surface.
‘I can only hope that if you one day grow powerful enough to do that, you won’t run into the same roadblock my late husband did… the same one my son almost certainly will…’
If she was correct about the person who slaughtered Theron’s Clan, though… it was unlikely that he would even get a chance to run into that roadblock.
Given the abilities of that Clan, someone that they had marked couldn’t hide, they couldn’t run, they couldn’t scheme.
If there was one person in the world that knew exactly how much of a fingerprint Theron had on all these matters, it was the young man that appeared that day to cross his Gold Tribulation.
How could you face an enemy you could have no secrets before?