Chapter 297: Three Hands |
Jualim of the Sangun. Zaei of the Auran. Riyan of the Golds.
All three of them reacted just as quickly, so much so that it was difficult to tell which of them had put their hand up first.
Theron could tell that Riyan was actually just the slightest bit faster than the other two, and technically speaking, this should give him the right of way. But it was close enough that anyone who wanted to ignore it could.
All of the First Years aside from Riyan were in the Third Silver Resonance. Riyan himself, though, was in the Fourth.
With a huge demarcating line between them, the odds the Golds would get their revenge should have been guaranteed. In fact, even if they were in the same cultivation realm, Riyan’s bloodline was so far superior that it would still be a crushing defeat.
"Interesting. It seems we have three eager participants but only two slots. In that case, which of the three of you is willing to use your flags?”
Riyan’s eyes narrowed.
Using the flag in this case was especially difficult for him. If he used his now, then their Second Years wouldn’t be able to. The Golds had just all but declared war; using up their flags right now, when they didn’t know with 100% certainty who was scheming with the Sangun, was too risky.
Riyan’s passion was real, but he was also aware that he was a bit of a guinea pig. He was their First Year, and he was willing to take the vanguard in this respect.
What Riyan noticed immediately, though, was that Zaei and Jualim weren’t reacting either. They seemed to be waiting for something.
"You have ten more seconds to decide. Otherwise, I will randomly assign the two starters.”
Riyan sneered in his head. So it was like this.
To the side, Theron watched on in silence, finding all of this quite interesting indeed.
At that moment, there was a sudden flash as a flag was raised to the skies.
What shocked everyone was that the flag didn’t come from Riyan, nor did it come from Jualim or Zaei.
It came from Theron.
"I’ll be going,” Theron said lightly before hopping onto the stage.
There was a calmness about him at that moment, one that made several hearts skip a beat.
Theron didn’t have to throw himself into this situation. He didn’t even have to take a stab at the situation at all. This was the plight of the Gold Clan, and likely the Sangun.
But for Theron to so casually throw his hat into the arena…
It was like he was making it clear that he didn’t care about any of this.
No, it was like he saw through someone’s plans and decided not to be a cog in the wheel.
Riyan looked to Theron deeply and then smiled. He nodded and simply stood there, waiting for the ten seconds to run out.
Mello himself hadn’t expected such a result and was suddenly confused about what to do. The obvious answer before was that if the ten seconds ran out, he’d pick Jualim and Zaei to go at it, conveniently leaving Riyan out. But what should he do now?
Should he make Riyan fight Theron? But what if Theron was doing this on purpose and planned to concede defeat? If the Gold Clan had struck up a deal with the Nightingales ahead of time, ready for the scheming of the Sangun, then would it mean that the Golds would take control of this round robin from the very start?
Suddenly, Mello realized that his own timer was running out and Riyan was staring at him with his arms crossed, seemingly without the slightest intention of taking a step forward.
High in the skybox, Elder Kelyne couldn’t help but smile, her wrinkles smoothing out for a moment as her expression became more ruddy.
She really liked this little boy. If his strength was as sharp as his intelligence, she didn’t know if she would be able to hold back from trying to steal him away from the Nightingales.
What did the Nightingale Province need with a Water Mancer, anyway?
It was just a shame that the Blacks had almost a complete monopoly on powerful Water Mancers. The odds that powerful Water Mancy could take shape without their bloodline were slim to none.
But that made Kelyne all the more curious.
Ten seconds was up.
Mello’s eyes darted around, trying to think more, or at least receive some guidance from elsewhere, but that was when Theron spoke lightly.
"Ten seconds are up,” Theron said with a smile.
"I will
Theron shook his head. “No, you won’t. I think you’re overstepping your bounds a bit. You might have had the right to choose if it remained a three-way clash—might. But now that I’m the only one who used my flag, I’m also the only one with the right to stand on the stage. Meaning, I can issue a Challenge to whomever I want.”
The words came out calmly, Theron’s gaze casually sweeping toward the host.
Trying to understand a new set of rules faster than Theron could was, well… quite the pipe dream.
Mello had no rebuttal. There was a reason he was a host. Someone who could have participated in this gathering in the past would have long since outgrown the need to take up such a menial task.
There was a slight flush of embarrassment on the host’s face that quickly turned into anger. But he didn’t dare to say a word of refutation.
"You are right, Scholar Galethunder. Please proceed.”
Theron looked away from him.
"In this case, I’m no longer a Scholar. I’m a General.”
Theron’s hair danced in the wind for a moment before he looked to Riyan.
"Would you like to spar, General Gold?”
Riyan grinned and stepped onto the platform.
"It would be my pleasure.”
The two quickly entered a dance of blades that ended with Theron shaking Riyan’s hand and admitting defeat.
After stepping off the stage, Theron took a seat and reclined as Riyan’s entire demeanor changed.
"Come up here, Sangun.”
Riyan’s voice came out in a low, rumbling growl. He called out Jualim by his last name instead of his first, his intentions as clear as day.
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