Rivers of the Night-Chapter 871: Wedding

Chapter 871: Wedding

Macie screamed out, not in pain, but in rage. Yet, that didn’t stop her from sweeping her blade at Theron’s waist like she was clearing tall grass.

Theron’s foot tapped at the ground and he leapt right over it, unleashing a kick at her head so solid that half her face deformed.

Bone fragments stuck out from her brain, a blender of mush quickly forming in what was once her intact skull.

Theron landed on the ground and his dagger jutted out to the side in a reverse grip. He blocked the scythe’s attempt to swing back, sparks flying and lightning crackling on contact as blade met polearm.

Without the slightest bit of hesitation, his short sword followed up, swinging at Macie’s head.

Macie’s shrieks of fury filled the skies and her head burst with blooming flowers of darkness.

The smell of death and blood filled the air as tentacles and vines exploded out from the depths of her body.

Theron didn’t even flinch, his sword slicing through them all. He punched the scythe away with his dagger and then swung his sword again.

BOOM.

Her body exploded, blood splattering against him as she completely imploded.

A searing heat licked against Theron’s skin, digging into his pores and etching itself into his very bones.

BANG.

Theron’s body seemed to implode as well, a new layer covering him. However, this time, it was his own blood.

He expelled all of the poison in one go as a naked Matriarch Macie appeared in the distance, her head half blooming flowers and withering vines.

Her mouth opened and she unleashed a shriek that curdled the blood.

“ATTACK!” she roared.

Theron’s gaze turned cold as ice and he held up his dagger-wielding hand in a universal signal for stop. This wasn’t for Macie’s charging army, but instead for his own friends.

This wasn’t a battle they could participate in. This wasn’t a battle he wanted them to participate in.

He didn’t fear numbers.

After all…

His sword and dagger were his weakest aspects.

Theron held out his short sword, pointing it at Macie’s head from a distance.

His hair danced in the skies and the ocean waters writhing wildly around him suddenly calmed, fusing with his darkness into an indigo lake that reflected sparks of white lightning.

And then even that fused into them.

They combined into one until they formed the head of a roaring indigo lion.

Today, the name Galethunder would not be one that others looked at with confusion, one they had never heard, or one they didn’t recognize.

Dragons, nine-tailed legends, flowers and serpents—it didn’t matter.

Not a single one of them mattered before the mane of a lion.

He would carve out an existence for his own Clan, and once he reached the peak, he would finally have fixed this world.

The lion shattered, streams of indigo Dark Water Mana slicing apart everything in its path.

Theron didn’t move an inch, his sword still raised. His body was covered by his own blood, his wounds healing with no less speed than Macie’s.

Then he vanished.

One man against an army, and yet his steps carried not the slightest hesitation. It looked like he hadn’t noticed the number disparity in the first place. Ignoring the soldiers as though they were worthless, he appeared before Macie again.

His waters writhed through the skies, slicing one of them apart after another.

Macie was forced to meet his blade, her body nearly flying back from the first clash alone. And yet, her backward momentum seemed to be stopped by a mysterious force.

By the time she realized that it was Theron’s White Cores bending space so much that she had only flown back one meter when it should have been hundreds of kilometers, it was already too late.

Trapped in a quagmire of Theron’s Mana, she weathered one attack after another, digging deep just to pull in one more bit of improvement, just one more hint of Mana, just one little bit more of comprehension and enlightenment.

But for every one step of improvement she made, Theron made two. For every two she made, Theron made eight. For every three she made, Theron made sixteen.

His blade descended and Macie lost an arm. Blood arced through the skies but then solidified.

The blood from Macie’s arm and the stump left behind connected as though vines were replenishing themselves. She tried to pull it back, but Theron quickly followed up with a pummel of his hilt to her nose.

Her face caved in and a sweep of Theron’s dagger took out a large chunk of her hip.

His blades furiously danced, one combo leaning into the next, and then the next.

He stood as the center of the universe, Mana blooming from him in endless waves.

He was no man. He was a star in the night skies.

**

A battle even more furious than Theron’s raged high in the canopy beyond the Heavens, beyond the reach of Karma and existence itself.

Dyon boisterously laughed despite the monstrous killing intent in his eyes.

“He really, really hates you.”

Ryu only responded with a sneer. Was this something he was supposed to care about?

“I wouldn’t be so cavalier about this if I were you. You know what’s even funnier than that? Technically, you’re just as much his parent as I am. Should I make you my ninth wife? What do you think?”

Ryu’s gaze flashed with murder.

“Hey, hey, I don’t make the rules,” Dyon sneered. “He might have been born from my daughter, but the reason my little girl did any of this in the first place was because she felt the only way to fix what we did was to use us both. I’m sure you’ve figured it out by now. What do you want? A grand wedding?”

Ryu’s great sword-staff pierced through Dyon’s guard and nearly took his head, but the latter leaned back, watching the blade soar past his nose as he laughed.

“Why are you shooting the messenger? A genius born from my daughter and your chaos. I think he just might take your head in the future.”