The Verdant Bloomstone rattled on the table, spinning until it came to a stop.
Dean Thistle’s gaze sharpened. He didn’t recognize the jade immediately, but very few would. Still, his knowledge as a high-level cultivator was certainly extensive. While it took him a moment, the instant the scent hit his nose, obscure memories rolled in one after another.
Theron saw it when it appeared, that moment of agitation, of recognition, of undying greed.
For a cultivator at this level to lose his cool like this, Theron knew that he had grasped onto the perfect weakness. Almost nothing else would matter precisely because this Bloomstone had appeared.
Dean Thistle regained his calm with shocking efficiency. As he reached forward to pick up the jade, it was as though he didn’t know what it was at all.
He flipped it in his palm, looking at it from all angles.
“Verdant Bloomstone. What does this have to do with my son’s death? And…” Dean Thistle’s gaze sharpened as he looked back up. “How does the likes of you even know that I lost a son?”
“You have fools like Sawyer in your Clan. Is there a need for me to explain?”
Dean Thistle didn’t reply, looking back down at the Verdant Bloomstone.
“Kai.”
“Impossible,” Dean Thistle said indifferently, his suspicions blaring.
“Then you might want to ask yourself why this fool came to hound me for no reason other than reading books on herbs.”
The sound of squishing liquid and flesh resounded as a head fell onto Dean Thistle’s table.
It was none other than Kai.
“So your suspect is dead?” The sneer in his tone was practically palpable.
“Don’t you have a Spirit Mancer by your side? Use him. Or could it be that I need to explain to you how to do this as well?”
“Your tone is getting quite big, boy.”
“And your family has given me absolutely nothing despite what I’ve given them. If your plan is to string me along and then kill me when you feel I’ve grown too strong, then you might as well kill me now. Do you think I’m a fool? ℞ÀꞐọ฿ËṦ
“I gathered three Beast Cores perfect for the youths of your family, and what did I receive in return? Three Mid-Tier Bronze Resonance Pills when I was already in the high tier? The ability to sit in on a class I was going to be able to sit in on given another few months anyway? How useful you’ve been.”
Dean Thistle’s eyes narrowed, and he looked over to Burne, who turned stiff but didn’t dare to meet his gaze.
The Patriarch didn’t say a word in reply as he continued to observe the jade. At the very least, not related to Theron’s complaints. But that was as good as an acknowledgment.
The reason so many Sect disciples had appeared in Thistle Brook was for no other reason than to clear out the Sect and make things easier to search for.
Originally, Sigil had been meant to enter the Sect during this time as well, but the plans on this side needed more stabilization after Yonowai died, so that was tabled for the moment.
Dean Thistle had expected that it would take a great deal of time to get everything sorted, but he didn’t expect that what he had been looking for all this time would fall into his lap like this.
“How will you deal with this situation?”
“Me? I don’t have the resources of a Noble Clan. What do you expect me to do to combat public sentiment? They managed to twist a battle I was challenged to by another cultivator into bullying a woman. Half of the city hates me by default, and another 40% either want nothing to do with me or are disdainful.
“I bet that very soon, this princess consort’s husband-to-be will make an appearance, or maybe a statement. If he’s as smart as it seems, it will definitely be the former—he’s just waiting for his fiancée’s pretty face to heal.
“At that point, my reputation will be set in stone. In fact, very soon, rumors of how I forced Malaya into marriage will certainly start to spread, building up to the day of their appearance, where I’m sure this crown prince will challenge me to a duel for the sake of his fiancée’s face.
“I will inevitably reject because I have no intention of fighting a Gold Mancer for your sake, nor should you want that. If I die, you gain nothing and lose far more.”
“You’ve said a lot,” Dean Thistle responded indifferently, still studying the jade. “What is the solution?”
It was like he hadn’t heard Theron’s insults at all.
“Before I give you the solution, how are you going to compensate me?”
A dangerous light flashed in the Dean’s eyes.
“You’re playing a dangerous game.”
“The game’s been dangerous ever since I completed those 21 Credits. But you are free to use my Plan B if you want. Kill me and then blame the Nightingale Clan, spread tales of how they failed me in my youth, allowing my parents to be killed under their watch, and that bred my hatred—only for them to kill me silently in the dark for fighting back.
“It’s a good plan, don’t you think?”
The Dean’s gaze shot up, a shuddering pressure descending onto Theron.
“I’ve grown tired of the childish games,” he said coldly.
“Don’t be mad at me for reading you. You’re predictable, and that’s no one’s fault but your own. That’s why you were outmaneuvered this time. You think that you’re the only smart person in the room, and contrary to your overinflated sense of worth, you only got here with everyone kissing your ass.
“Now do you want to hear a real plan or not?”
A wild grin spread across Dean Thistle’s face.
“I can’t wait to kill you,” he said coldly.
Theron’s hair fluttered, his true expression slipping into being as his face became frighteningly cold.
“You had better cut the line early, or I’ll be holding your head instead.”