Rivers of the Night

Theron was much too unpredictable. It seemed that even the Mandate Guild hadn't necessarily acted with thoughts of things reaching this point.

Though the Gold White Veil had intentionally used those methods, it was more so to suppress. While a genius was busy fighting against the effects of his chains—something that most cultivators would do on instinct because they had a fear of the Heavenly Mandates—it would weaken them considerably.

One of the things people feared about the White Veils the most was that they didn't need to be powerful to be real threats. Their Mandate Marks, even in the best-case scenario, would have you battling at half capacity.

If you were particularly sensitive to the Mandate Marks, or were facing a particularly adept White Veil, then even being left with a mere third of your combat power wouldn't be a shock at all.

Often, people would give up and not even cross a White Veil to begin with. That was because if you used up too much of your combat power in the battle, then your ability to fight back against the Mandate Mark would weaken considerably.

And if you slipped up… well, you would end up a cripple just like Theron.

"You mean to say… that he didn't fight back?"

"No, Elder Pipen. It's as though he didn't feel it at all… no, I could feel him observing it the entire time, but he just didn't flinch. I've never seen anything like that before."

"Didn't flinch…"

Elder Pipen still hadn't shown himself, but the words were making him frown. His antennas were up.

This wasn't normal. This wasn't normal at all.

Not flinching at a Mandate Mark was like standing there while something shot an arrow between your brows. It didn't make any sense at all.

The only way you wouldn't flinch at something like that would be if the archer was far beneath your notice—but who would dare to put the Heavenly Mandate beneath their notice?

If Ott could hear the conversation the two were having right now, he might feel just a bit more panicked. From his thoughts, the oddities of Theron would only be exposed when he broke the Mandate Mark.

However, the understanding the guild had for the Mandate Mark was deeper than most others. Ott knew of the abilities of the Mark, but he had never experienced it personally, and there were bound to be details that slipped his attention.

He was meticulous, but he wasn't nearly as meticulous as Theron.

"What of his demeanor on the way here?"

"He didn't say anything, Elder Pipen. Usually, they try to speak to me, to negotiate, maybe hoping that I can remove the Mark so that they can regain their cultivation. But he still hasn't said a single word."

"Do you believe it is because he is too arrogant?"

"This is a possibility, Elder Pipen. I have rarely, if ever, seen someone so self-confident. But it doesn't feel like hubris—it feels like calmness. I can feel his soul fluctuations intimately through the Mandate Mark. It feels almost like… almost like he was asleep the entire time."

The clouds in the cultivation room rolled.

From experience, the Gold White Veil knew that this meant the elder had stood to his feet—and violently at that.

This was probably what the elder had been waiting for the most.

Mandate Marks were nurtured by White Veils in the same way Mandate Plaques were by the various geniuses. The difference was that White Veils gave to Mandate Marks, while those geniuses took from their plaques.

As such, Mandate Marks were almost like an extension of the White Veils, and their ability to sense and feel through them was actually quite exceptional.

This left an obvious elephant in the room: What would happen to a White Veil when their Mandate Mark was used to cripple another?

Well, it was lost forever, and the White Veil would thus become useless to the guild unless they could nurture another Mandate Mark.

Unfortunately, those capable of nurturing just one were already incredibly rare. Those that could nurture two?

Well, that was the separation between a powerful Gold White Veil and an Elder Veil like Elder Pipen. Those that could nurture three were at the pinnacle of the Mandate Guild, old monsters who had lived for ages and rarely, if ever, showed their faces.

They were the Ancestor Veils—and veiled they were, a mystery to most of the world but the oldest generations among them. Even the most powerful of Elder Veils weren't aware of the exact number of them.

However, there was a reason that geniuses punished in this way by the guild begged for a chance even though this was supposedly irreversible.

There was a rumor, though never confirmed… that the Ancestor Veils were the only ones capable of reversing a Mandate Mark crippling.

"Bring me to the boy. I must see him."

Elder Pipen had a slight thought to alert the Ancestor Veils right this moment, but he chose not to. If he did so based on the words of a mere Gold White Veil and he was wrong, it would be impossible to pay for his sins with anything other than his head.

He had to confirm personally first. And if the words of the Gold White Veil were true…

Then this would change everything.

Sweeping down from what seemed like the Heavens themselves, Elder Pipen appeared in a flash.

"Right away!" The Gold White Veil didn't hesitate. Realizing that this had probably become bigger than he could fathom, he too rushed away at his fastest speed—the feeling of an elder on his tail making him feel flushed to the point of overheating any moment now.

\\*\\*

Seijin Clan.

A young man sat on a cushion, looking out into the distance. A dagger casually danced between his fingers, gliding from one to the next in a fluid motion, so fast it left blurs.

There was something particularly beautiful about his fingers, as though if he reached out and plucked, the strings of Fate themselves would listen.

"A pickle, indeed. A pickle, indeed. Seems I might actually have to move out personally."

The young man chuckled.

"I wonder, Theron Galethunder. Did you do this on purpose? You thrive on chaos, don't you? It's your best chance to survive… unfortunately for you, I'm aware that you have no idea just what sort of storm you've kicked up this time.

"They say ignorance is bliss. Maybe it is. But it also means death to many.

"Will you die with a smile on your face, though?"