Theron became calm. Eerily so.
His ears twitched and his breathing slowed. He could feel the shift and changes in all those around him—the fidgeting hands, the agitated hearts, the slight trickle of cold sweat that increased the humidity of the room by just the slightest hint.
He felt it all.
There was a hollowness in his ears as the ground trembled again, and his breathing, as slow and controlled as it was, felt almost too loud to him.
He needed to be calmer, more controlled. Unless he was, there would be no chance.
Then he heard it, the circulation of his own blood.
When he joined Daggers of the Night, they spoke of this state. A state where you were so focused, so driven, so silent that only the rhythm of your heart and the lifeblood pumping through your veins could be heard by you.
They called it Veinsong.
Theron’s fists unclenched and relaxed, his short sword and dagger slipping into his palms with a soft pat.
There was a flicker in the hovering red eyes, but nothing at all was said. Theron was already down a hallway before the other Bronze Assassins reacted.
His Fifth Resonance cultivation thrummed like a calm building of steam in his body, his steps moving in a flash as every muscle worked in perfect unison.
Theron knew portions of the layout of the hideout like the back of his hand. It was nothing but a series of winding tunnels and arched ways of stone. The vast majority was made up of living quarters, while only about 20% was forged for training purposes.
The unfortunate part was that the portions he was so familiar with were only the Bronze Assassin living quarters. He had no way of knowing where the higher realm assassins resided or how deep things really went. And the only way he knew in and out was through his own room.
For obvious reasons, that route couldn’t be used. In fact, if he was correct, the teleportation options had almost certainly been cut out.
The only way out of here was the old-fashioned way.
Realizing this, Theron knew that there were probably three potential ways out, and all three had to be in regions he had never been.
The fourth option was that the exit was in a place hidden in plain sight, and that was the worst of the options.
However, there was a better choice than hoping he chose the correct path.
Go right toward the danger.
Wherever the rumbling was, there was highly likely to be an exit. It was just a matter of making it through.
Was it smart to be the first to go? Under normal circumstances, no. However, because he went first…
The sound of rapid footsteps following him echoed in Theron’s ears as he moved.
‘Good.’
He had already expected this. Assassins or not, humans were pattern-following creatures. When they saw one person confidently step out and move, the likelihood they would follow was exceptionally high.
Theron rounded a corner, stepping on a wall to avoid slowing down and bursting forth.
Speed wasn’t his strong suit; he knew that well. But with his Mana control, around these sharp bends and corners, his agility was on full display. His skill in starting, stopping, and changing direction was as good as it could be without relying on a dexterity-specific movement method.
Because of that, he was able to stay ahead with great ease. There were most definitely Eighth- and even Ninth-Resonance experts amongst the Bronze Assassins, but if these people had chosen to follow him, they wouldn’t overtake him even if they could.
And therein lied the risk.
Theron felt the shift in the wind before he saw it. A thin veil of mist was stretched out before him, every little twitch and noise reverberating back to his ears.
Finding the location of the rumbling in these tunnels was far easier than it sounded. You might think you were running in the right direction, only to slam right into a dead end.
Somehow, Theron had avoided all of that. And just as inexplicably, his back arched, his knees sliding across the ground with a rough tearing sound as a blade passed over his nose.
The blade turned out to be a boomerang, rounding a corner and beheading a Bronze Assassin before they could even react.
‘Metal Mancer.’
Theron felt the string of Mana control the rotating boomerang, and because of that he also knew exactly where the Metal Mancer was.
He dismissed his sphere of thin mist. He had already used up half his Mana just maintaining it. Now that he had found the opponents, it was no longer necessary.
With a flex of his calves and a double fist to the ground, Theron launched himself back up from the ground mid-slide.
There was only one direction to go ahead, a sharp turn to the right.
He kicked at the wall, his short sword flashing through the air.
There was a streak of blue and a head flew into the sky.
‘Not the Metal Mancer.’
Theron could feel the danger coming from his back. The boomerang was returning, and the Metal Mancer was hidden in the back of this group.
He had taken the head of one, but there were at least half a dozen others, not including the Metal Mancer, and the weakest of them was at the Sixth Resonance.
‘The Metal Mancer is at the Ninth Resonance. I can’t face that sort of attack head on, but now he’s entirely focused on me.’
He had dodged the first attack and drawn second blood. It was impossible for him not to be the prime target.
The wind practically let out a sharp inhale behind Theron. He could feel the sharpness slicing through the air, the boomerang baring down on the back of his head still dripping with the blood of the fallen assassin.
As danger bore down from the back, the warriors in front of Theron finally reacted to his presence.
Pincered from both sides, it didn’t feel like there was anywhere to go.
Nothing but the steely blue eyes beneath the hood of Theron’s cloak reflected any sort of calmness.