The pressure of a Do of Heaven expert truly made one feel as though the skies themselves were falling onto your head. It was the sort of thing that no longer felt as though it was coming from a single person, but instead as though the Heavens themselves were enraged with you.
It was a peculiar feeling.
Theron knew exactly where the pressure was coming from; he knew that there was only one person here who could possibly levy such a ridiculous amount of pressure, and yet his senses couldn’t pinpoint her as the origin nonetheless.
Not that it mattered.
The pressure fell off of him as though gentle winds gracing his once broken and mangled flesh. It felt like the Do of Heaven expert was entirely unable to find purchase, as though he was part of the void itself.
If one were to compare the oneness with the Heavens of a Perfect False Voidwrought versus a Do of Heaven expert, one could say that the forr was far superior.
The Matriarch seed to only realize this after it was too late, but she didn’t restrain herself. She hadn’t gone particularly hard to begin with; it was little more than her not holding back her cultivation so that people weren’t constantly dropping like flies around her.
Even so, she narrowed her eyes.
No matter what happened today, she had no intention of letting Theron out of her sight. Even in the small likelihood he had a Soul thod far beyond her own, she needed to see it. The value of such a thing was absolutely ridiculous.
But by the sa token... she also needed to understand his background first. If she was poking a bear she couldn’t afford to poke at, who knew what might happen?
In the crowd, long forgotten, Kempe stood with a flicker in his eyes. He had been forced to the ground much like the others had been. Though, while he was straining, his sorry state was more of an act than anything else. Unfortunately, also much like the others, he couldn’t hear the words Voidwrought when they were spoken.
When they suffered the pressure of the word, it seed the Heavens ford a veil that disallowed them from hearing the exact word.
Kempe could have broken through and listened, but he chose not to do so because he knew that the Matriarch would sense it. He had already taken enough of a risk by sending his in-na junior brothers to participate in this gathering. He didn’t want the fury of a Do of Heaven expert falling on him.
However, what Kempe did know was that there were very few words he knew of that could cause such a reaction, and even fewer that could cause such restraint in a Do of Heaven expert.
Kempe’s gaze landed on Theron, his heart palpitating.
"Is there sothing that Senior would like to advise in?" Theron asked.
The gentleness had returned to his voice. In fact, the way it carried on the wind and lded with the Laws of the world made it feel even more soothing than before.
Theron wasn’t using any such thod, but it almost felt like he was casting the Charm Spell of a Spirit Mancer, his tone and cadence almost making even the Matriarch herself feel goosebumps gliding up against her skin.
Voidwroughts, even False ones, were truly on another level.
"Where do you co from?"
"I co from the Nightingale Sect," Theron replied.
The Matriarch didn’t seem satisfied with this response. Lyrah had already said as much. If she believed it, she wouldn’t have asked the question again.
"I will ask one more ti, child. Where do you co from?" the Matriarch asked.
"I can only tell an esteed miss such as yourself the truth," Theron said. "I do co from the Nightingale Sect."
"Is that so? So if I were to question your Patriarch about your life, he would be able to tell who birthed you, where you were raised, and how you ca to be the young man you are today?"
Theron smiled a bit sadly. "The answer to this question is yes. Unfortunately, the Patriarch of my Nightingale Sect died recently. He was like a father to in his life, and he left us far too soon."
The Matriarch’s eyes narrowed, and then looked at Lyrah.
"Is this true?"
"Yes, Matriarch. Patriarch Nightingale lost his life through unknown ans."
First Elder Bertrum’s gaze flickered. "Matriarch, if I may. There are rumors of the appearance of a Demon Chosen. A young man who blitzed the Sect, killed their disciples and Patriarch, before making off with their treasury. I find this matter to be very suspicious."
The mont the Matriarch heard Demon Chosen, it was like she had been injected with so sort of blazing molten liquid. Her gaze sharpened as she looked toward Theron again.
If Theron was truly a Demon Chosen, that would explain a great deal.
Theron only stood there with the sa sad smile on his face. He didn’t rush to defend himself.
It could be said that his reaction was absolutely perfect and without flaw. Why would he try to refute sothing that was true? It would just make him seem all the more guilty.
"What do you an by these words, Bertrum? Even I can feel that Theron does not have the aura of a Demon Chosen on him. Do you believe that the Matriarch cannot tell the difference?"
Bertrum sneered inwardly. "Deciphering the identity of lower-level Demon Chosen is, of course, within our purview. But it must also be understood that there are many Demon Chosen in existence who follow masters with strength beyond our wildest imaginations. Their ability to hide themselves will, likewise, be far superior. Such Demon Chosen could only be felt by powerhouses like our esteed Matriarch."
The First Elder was too smart for his own good. He could feel that the Matriarch wanted sothing Theron had even if Lyrah couldn’t. With such words, the Matriarch could unilaterally impose whatever cris onto Theron she wanted.
Slowly, the Matriarch’s cherry lips parted.
"It is said that the coffers of the Nightingale Sect were robbed. If I were to check your spatial ring, would I find what the Demon Chosen took?"
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