Rivers of the Night

Vellan was surprised by Theron’s sudden movement. He hadn’t been watching for a chance to move, and had instead just been watching the situation, analyzing.

There was something off about Theron, he felt—like he had depths he couldn’t see through.

At first, Vellan didn’t take Theron very seriously at all, so he hadn’t paid much attention to the young man, even during the gathering events. However, after Chopra’s death, there was little more they could do but pay attention to him.

Unfortunately, their best chances to observe Theron by that point had gone out the window, especially after his breakthrough in his battle with Chopra.

The trouble was that through the screen they were viewing everything on, too many details of that battle were also made worse. So it was hard to pick out anything.

Their next best chance came when he fought against Wren, but then came the Tribulation that obscured much of the remainder of the battle.

They had no idea that Wren had already died before the Tribulation even descended in the first place—and the thing that Theron had been battling in its presence was actually a sword and nothing else.

A sword that Theron had destroyed.

Now, with Theron beaten and broken, it felt like the best chance to deal with him, but Vellan was feeling apprehensive, and clearly Exsaa felt the same way. Instead of using her usual puppets, she had actually gone and plucked two random targets instead.

They had both tacitly decided to work together for this one, and they both likewise took this matter very seriously as well, hiding much of their earlier arrogance and distaste.

But there were certain mistakes you made that couldn’t be easily backtracked on. Their chances to observe Theron were gone already. And now...

He was the one hunting them.

Even so, Vellan’s reactions were sharp. He had been watching Theron’s every movement, so when the latter suddenly took a step toward him and exploded forward, his twin pair of pick hammers appeared in his thick palms.

They were peculiar weapons, with a heavy steel cylinder on one end and a sharp point on the other. Their bodies were formed from a beautiful dark wood that seemed etched with the silver embroidery of once-melted metals. It was hard to tell how any wood in the world could have survived such temperatures, but this one certainly had.

And then there were the heads themselves. The cylindrical ends, rounded and flattened into the shape of heavy hammer heads, were half the size of a head, and the curve of the pointed ends was so sharp and menacing it almost felt like looking at miniature scythes.

Each one looked as though it should be wielded with two hands, and yet the large frame Vellan carried everywhere he went made it feel only natural for him to wield each with just one.

But the oddest thing about these weapons wasn’t their rarity at all, or who wielded them...

It was the fact that these sorts of heavy weapons were almost never chosen by Wind Mancers. And yet...

Here was Vellan.

The moment Vellan swung down, it was as though all the howling winds of the forest had returned. Accumulating into a cyclone, they blew down the length of his hammer head, aiming not toward Theron, but toward where he was about to be.

Sharp, fast, decisive—carrying a dexterity with them that a heavy weapon had no business having—and yet seeming all the more natural for it.

The scent of death crept into Theron’s nose, and he felt the true threat of these geniuses he faced right at this moment. They were more dangerous than any of the Gold Mancers he had just faced inside of the city.

These talents were on a completely different level.

The world around Theron became a trapped quagmire of whirling winds. As though buried beneath the swirling eddies of a river, he knew that if he tried to move anywhere outside of his original path right now, he would find himself thrown right back in.

Another expert usage of control. Another Mana Control genius that seemed to touch on a world Theron had once felt was all his own.

Compared to Chopra, this Vellan and Exsaa were true monsters.

Monsters that Theron would slaughter.

Theron’s short sword flashed, but hardly moved to his side. Instead, his palm unsheathed his dagger, his steps accelerating as he crossed the final distance between himself and Vellan’s blow.

Just as Theron was about to be smashed into bits, Vellan’s eyes widened as he watched his target suddenly spin. All of a sudden, Theron slipped out and to the side, rounding around Vellan’s swinging arm and nullifying his ability to counter with his second pick hammer.

BOOM!

The ground split as Theron’s dagger cut into Vellan’s side, ripping a large hole through the side of his robe and clanging against a hidden inner armor.

Sparks flew as Theron rebounded away, the dagger in his palm shattering on impact.

Theron tapped a foot onto the ground and slipped out of Vellan’s vortexes of wind, his eyes cool and calm despite his heavy breathing. He tossed his dagger to the side, an indifferent chill in the depths of his eyes.

"You..."

Vellan stood there in a daze. He hadn’t formed a follow-up attack because he knew he had trapped Theron in what was essentially a conveyor belt of wind. Theron could only go one direction.

His timing was perfect, and Theron’s own momentum was being used against him.

And yet, Theron spun out of it so casually?

Vellan had felt it in those last moments. The temperature of the wind around them changed. Heated currents rose and the cool ones sank rapidly, causing his expert control to falter slightly.

There was a heavy mist still hanging in the air, and it was the mist itself that caused the wind temperature to change. And the only one that could have done that...

Was Theron.

Vellan’s heart was beating erratically.

A Water Mancer that could change the temperature of their water? One that could even somewhat control mist?

He had never heard of such a thing.