The Umbra had a large and full slate of elders. They could be considered to be a well-established Clan of this region, and easily among the most powerful—even if they couldn’t hold a candle to the Chron.
But what was also clear was that the Chron didn’t plan on investing much into this matter. At the very least, their true elders didn’t seem to have made an appearance yet.
While this seed odd, when the background of Alfone was well known—and then further tied with the history of the Chron Clan as a whole—this was more understandable.
Lyra wouldn’t be Alfone’s first wife. In fact, she wouldn’t even be the second or the third.
Because of the low birth rates of the Chron Clan, having many wives and concubines was a natural response. The Chron elders couldn’t be bothered to appear at every single wedding; otherwise, they would never have ti for anything else.
It was enough for them to send so representation of their Clan through their younger generation and call it a day. The na of the Chron Clan itself was already enough to hold significant weight. It wasn’t as though there were madn like Theron walking around everywhere.
That ant one thing... the Umbra were mostly on their own in dealing with this situation. And even if they could call the Chron Clan for help, doing so would almost certainly lower their position in the eyes of the latter substantially.
So when two Eighth Resonance and one Ninth Resonance Do of Heaven expert appeared, it seed that the Umbra finally realized that they had no choice but to take matters into their own hands.
The only good news was that while Orchu’s spine and neck were broken, he was still alive.
One of the Eighth Resonance existences surged over to Orchu’s side, trying to protect him from certain death. But Theron clearly didn’t care very much about trying to finish Orchu off.
He stumbled back sowhat clumsily, taking another swig of wine as he felt a great amount of pressure bearing down on him.
The mont Orchu’s life was secured, the other Eighth Resonance Dark Mancer vanished in a swirling vortex of Dark Mana, appearing above Theron with a palm larger than even a giant’s hand.
Surging Dark Mana ford in concentrated loops and pressed down with the heft of mountains.
"Well... this wasn’t part of the deal..." Theron said with a slur in his speech. "Ah... I’m tired..."
He groaned out a yawn and seed a step late to dodge because of it.
BOOM.
Theron was swallowed whole, and the Dark Mancer landed heavily on the ground. There didn’t seem to be the slightest hint of satisfaction on his expression. He hadn’t felt anything just now.
BANG.
A foot slamd into his gut, coming out from his own fog of darkness. His eyes widened in shock. How—?!
The Umbra Dark Mancer coughed up a mouthful of blood as he slamd into a distant pillar. The Dark Mana around him slowly faded, and Theron stood there in the very sa location, his body a half-ford formation of swirling dark fog.
He really hadn’t moved at all.
Right now, Theron felt like his senses were unstoppable. Being able to phase through a physical attack was one thing, but the variations and complexities—not to ntion the sudden changes in a Spell or technique—were on a completely different level, especially when it was still in contact with him even now.
How much focus and precision did it take to phase through all of the Mana just now, co out unscathed, and even solidify just a part of his body to send the Mancer flying?
And yet, that wasn’t even the most impressive feat of the last few minutes. Without a doubt, Orchu’s body, lying there with a broken spine and neck... that was orders of magnitude more impressive.
At least the Dark Mancer was using a Mana that Theron had affinity for. Theron had no affinity for Space Mana at all, and yet he had not only seen through the superimposition ability of the Chron, he had broken it—using it against them and turning it into a weakness instead.
This wasn’t just Mana Control. It was sothing beyond that, touching onto the level of a god rewriting the world itself.
The Ninth Resonance Dark Mancer’s pupils constricted into pinholes, and just as he was about to attack, he found himself pausing in place, hesitating.
How long had it been since he felt fear at his cultivation level? He truly couldn’t rember the last ti.
He could defeat the Eighth Resonance existence just as easily... but what Theron had done just now...
It no longer felt like Theron was here to entertain them at all. It was more like he was here for the express purpose of showing off his talent.
Theron swept a gaze over the Ninth Resonance Do of Heaven expert, and the latter quickly took a step back. But Theron’s eyes were only passing over him before they landed on the rchant King once more.
"You still... haven’t replied to ..." Theron burped out his words before taking another swig of wine. His blood churned in his body as though he was in a constant state of quasi Veinsong.
Considering just how focused he felt right now, how clear everything was... he wouldn’t disagree with such an assessnt.
The rchant King slowly stood, his muscles rippling as the aura of a Seventh Resonance Do of Heaven expert filled the room.
"Revenge is what you want, is that right?"
Theron yawned. "Less talking. You’re sohow more annoying than that fellow over there. At least his underlying problem is his inferiority complex. You, however... have an overinflated sense of self-worth for soone who runs a quasi-brothel, don’t you think?"
The rchant King grinned.
"Do you think they allow just anyone to have the word King in their na?"
BANG.
The rchant King vanished. His body appeared before Theron in a flashing instant, a fist that carried the montum of a falling teor leaving trailing, sparking lines of flas in the air.
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