Rivers of the Night-Chapter 846: Scream

There was something about the scream that practically broke something inside of Theron.

He hadn’t known Ayame for long, but he knew enough to know that she wasn’t the sort to scream like that. She could have lost a limb, been suffering the worst pain, but nothing should have been capable of making her react like that.

She was someone who had survived in the Demon Corps. But even beyond that, she had experience with something Theron understood intimately.

An Assassin’s Guild.

When Theron originally met her, she had been a part of the Assassin’s Guild he snuck into after leaving the Hall of Ice and Heart. You couldn’t just casually sneak into an Assassin’s Guild. That meant that she had gone through every hint of initiation that the others had.

Someone who could make it through that wouldn’t scream.

What could possibly make her scream?

It was the only thing Theron could think about as he cut through the skies, moving as fast as his Mana and his legs would allow.

The power of his body, by now, was off the charts. He had the raw power of a King in his limbs alone. Even without using the slightest bit of Mana, he was probably already undefeatable within the King Realms—this was a large part of the reason why he was able to fight so far beyond his cultivation realm.

Theron rarely pushed his body to the absolute limits. Quite frankly, he wasn’t 100% sure how to. Much like most Mancers—at least non-Flux Mancers—he relied much more on his Comprehension and Mana.

But right now, he was pulling on everything he had.

In an instant, the city was already in his line of sight, every tree he stepped on exploding beneath the impact of his foot.

For Theron, who was used to having steps as silent as the calm winds and floating clouds, this was completely different from his usual style.

A line could be drawn from where he had been to where he was going, the shards of wood, splinters of oak, and cascades of bark falling in his wake.

BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.

The air exploded and formed a vapid tunnel for him, and in another instant, he was at the top of the city’s wall.

His toes fell at the edge of the inside wall, his legs bending, his quads flexing as his Dark and Water Mana rotated around him.

BOOM.

He moved so fast he seemed to vanish into the air. But no matter how fast he was, he was still slower than those who had already been in the encampment city itself.

‘Demonic.’

SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING.

Legions were mobilizing as currents of a foul air Theron had only smelled in the Demon Corps’ territory hung heavy.

And then he finally saw it.

The tent that Ayame had been in was gone, erased to ash.

At the center of it all, plumes of ash, soot, and a dark energy billowed into the air, forming wave upon wave—continuous and endless.

It was nothing like the Wind Mana that should have been there.

No… it was somewhat like it, but darker, heavier, filled with a malice that came straight from the heart.

At the center of the cyclone, the vague form of something hung in the air. Its head was tilted back, almost like a string was being pulled from its heart toward the skies.

Its head dangled back, loose strands of something vaguely reminiscent of hair dancing in the winds. But they could have very easily been tentacles just the same.

Theron was sure that this thing had to be Ayame, but its form barely seemed human at all.

The fingers and toes grew to inhuman lengths, its arms continuously snapping at odd angles. What looked like a nose grew into a beak and then shrank once more.

It was a continuous series of rapid changes, and all those who tried to get close to the pillar found themselves being blasted away.

The entire encampment was on high alert. It was like a Demon had manifested right in the middle of one of their most secure regions—how could they not react fiercely?

But much the same, this didn’t change anything for Theron. He immediately understood what had happened.

He had thought about it before. He was too smart not to think about it.

Sure, Demon Prince DiBarr’s contingency plans might have been Jun, but he also knew just how much of an anomaly Theron was. Who was to say that someone who dared to kill a Demon Duke didn’t have countless other cards?

Plus, even if you removed Theron from the equation, Jun would be going into the territory of one of the Generals the Demon Corps feared the absolute most. How could he be 100% certain in commanding a battlefield from so far away?

Obviously, then, the contingencies that the Demon Prince would have wouldn’t rely on the son he didn’t favor in the first place.

And the moment Jun died, that contingency plan activated.

For a moment, Theron didn’t move at all. He just stood there, the echoes of Ayame’s screams pounding against his skull.

The scream had long since come to an end, replaced by a different sort of eldritch horror. And yet, it sounded just as clear to him as if it were still resounding even now.

This was his fault.

He knew it was a possibility. He knew that Ayame was directly in the line of fire and had been around the Demon Prince for long enough that what happened to her might be far worse than what happened to him.

But he had been so angry that he ignored the possibility, seeking improvement so desperately that he took the risk without assessing all the potential flaws.

He had properly protected himself, but he had ended up hurting someone who didn’t deserve to be hurt.

Malaya’s face flashed in his memory.

It wasn’t the first time he had done something like that.

A pain welled up in Theron’s chest.