Rivers of the Night

The young man stood there with a quiet confidence. White hair fell down the length of his shoulder, so slick and meticulously kept that not a single strand seemed out of place.

His eyes were a gorgeous silver—not a dull grey that could be easily mistaken as such, but a true silver, as though one had placed a carefully brushed version of the metal over his irises.

He was refined in a way that was hard to describe, and his aura felt unfathomable. Sometimes he would appear to be in the Bronze Resonance, at other times in the Gold, and yet at some others he would appear to have no aura at all.

A bottomless chasm of mystery, and yet the only thing that seemed to be odd about him was the large pair of scissors that hung at his waist. That, and the ones that followed to his back.

All of them had appeared so silently and without a word, and Gian didn't need to be a genius to pick out that there had to be a Spatial Mancer amongst them. His Divine Realm level Third Eye would also be remiss if he couldn't tell that the Spatial Mancer in question was the little girl sucking on a lollipop at the Seijin Young Master's back.

Of course, there was no way that this seven-year-old lookalike was truly seven. Gian also didn't need to be a genius to know that it was likely one of the other sick proclivities of the Seijin.

This wasn't the sick proclivity most would be thinking of. Instead, it was the habit of the Seijin to experiment with methods of cultivation no one would ever want to touch.

With Wren, his pain had been attached to his weapon. With Vellan, he was forced to take a heavy weapon path as a Wind Mancer because this young man had attached him with an inner armor he couldn't take off even if he so wished it.

This little girl's current visage was just another product of what must have been one of those experiments.

It was said that children were far more sensitive and flexible than their adult counterparts. Gian could think of dozens of different paths of cultivation that might be able to take advantage of this, especially for a Space Mancer where the Spells one had to cast were endlessly complex.

But she was far from the only oddity here.

There was a man whose back split to reveal his spine. It looked as though his bone was encased in metal, sparking with lightning.

There was a woman whose breasts hung out in the open over her corset, a pair of heavy, rainbow crystal balls hanging down from their nipple piercings. Somehow, the light gathered in the balls and pulsed into blue, violet, and pink veins that coursed into her skin and outlined her heart. The piercings, while they seemed to be for her nipples alone, were clearly rooted far more deeply into her body than it seemed.

Another man seemed dressed in prisoner's robes, shackles as thick as six inches in depth hanging around his wrists and ankles. It seemed to have him locked in a permanent forward lean where his shoulders slumped and his head hung low.

There wasn't a single one of them that didn't seem to be suffering from some sort of odd ailment—whether visibly or internally. And yet, there was no denying the power they exuded.

These weren't normal Gold Mancers. They were actually all in the Divine Realm.

The torture the Seijin put their geniuses through was nothing short of hellish. However, each one of these geniuses could make it onto the top 20 of the Mandate Leaderboard at the absolute worst—it was just that the Seijin never allowed them to.

Their death rate was also truly shocking.

But those that made it to the very end…

They were existences that just might be among the most powerful on the continent.

This was why the Seijin were feared. This was why no one dared to oppose them. This was why they were untouchable.

They weren't just the experts that could rule the continent. They could also create the experts that would rule the continent as well.

"Why have you come here, Garethon?"

"Why have I come? A truly silly question, uncle. The entire continent is about to be inflamed. How could I miss such a thing? You truly did me a great favor by pointing out the center of Karma in this little corner of the world. How could I not be here to back you up in your time of need?"

Gian's body looked frail, as though he might collapse at any moment, but he stood there, tall and firm.

"Indeed," Gian said with a smile. "You have your own advantages, do you not? You've tied your Karma to the boy. Maybe you just might win after all."

"Lucky me, no?" Garethon laughed.

Gian had never directed Garethon here at all. Instead, it was the boy who found his location and took this place as a point of interest. As for the rest… it was actually nothing more than dumb luck.

While Garethon pretended now as though this was all part of his plan, if he had really known that Theron would grow into such a thing, he wouldn't have let him go out and free into the world.

The problem was that Theron's Talent didn't present like the others at all. He grew, evolved, and his body changed with his comprehension. A Seijin as inexperienced as Garethon would have never found him. But…

Gian had.

In fact, Gian had also helped Theron along by risking offending the Black Clan far too early to get him exactly what he needed to evolve further.

But Garethon didn't know that…

Until now.

And because of that, he didn't want to let Gian out of his sight.

"Then shall we, uncle? With how much you've sacrificed, it would be best if I play the role of dutiful descendant to help you, no?"