Rivers of the Night
Chapter 375: Mandate Leaderboard

Chapter 375: Mandate Leaderboard

Monet was very willful, but they honestly couldn’t believe that she would do something like this. Even if she was going to ruin everyone’s day, shouldn’t she do it for a purpose better than that?

“Hm?”

Ippe’s head tilted to the side as he noticed something peculiar.

“For a Quasi Gold Mancer locked in what’s essentially a Heaven’s-forged cage with a Gold Mancer, he seems pretty calm. And who’s that over there? I don’t think I’ve ever seen him before.”

The two blinked and looked up toward a balcony leaning off the palace’s edge. It was the same location that Grenwin and Ott had been talking on before, and the one Ott now held the little boy and Kiedran on—one under each arm to stop them from wiggling around too much and escaping.

The two princes were shocked for a moment.

“Grand uncle…” they said at the same time.

“Oh? Is this the famous grand uncle? He is… quite something…” Ippe said after a moment, in a rare moment of seriousness.

He was on the Mandate Leaderboard. His scope of the world was far beyond anyone else here, for the most part. He didn’t even take many high-tier Gold Mancers seriously. But this Scholar McIntyre…

He couldn’t see through him at all.

“No wonder you guys can’t do anything about him,” Ippe suddenly laughed, his serious expression vanishing.

There was something quite simple about Ippe’s appearance. A young man with bronzed skin, brown, almost hazel eyes, and shaggy brown hair.

He looked like he could have been a farmer’s son. One would hardly think that he came from one of the most powerful Clans on the continent, and that they were constantly trying to get him to come back and finally take things seriously.

But the words he spoke made you want to beat him up on the spot.

“Ippe, it sounds like you still haven’t learned to control your mouth a bit better.”

At some unknown time, another Tyre Clan prince had appeared. He stood high in the trees, his back somewhat facing the group. One could just barely see his handsome side profile, but one would never guess the rest of his appearance from that glance at all.

He looked beaten and ragged—what must have once been pristine robes torn into strips and ribbons.

His white-ash hair was shaggy, looking a lot more like a wild lion’s mane than a head of human hair.

Then there were his eyes—no less wild and bestial in comparison to his hair. There didn’t seem to be a single weapon on his body, but his nails were practically claws, even his toenails no different.

Muscles rippled across his body, their vasculature tingling with gold from time to time, as though he had injected himself directly with his Light Mana.

Raan Tyre. 79th ranked on the Mandate Leaderboard.

The Mandate Leaderboard didn’t necessarily translate directly to strength. However… it almost always did.

All of the low-tier Gold Mancers on it were ranked by the strength of their Tribulations. And from the analysis of the Guild… Raan’s was an entire 20 places beyond Ippe’s.

Yet, he still wasn’t the strongest of the Tyre in this generation. Not by a long shot.

That said, he was the only one here now.

“What do you mean, great sir Raan? I am only commentating on what I can see,” Ippe grinned, seemingly not nearly as scared of Raan as the two Tyre princes beside him were.

Raan didn’t respond, looking toward the battle ahead.

“A disgrace,” he said coldly. “She could have died a dozen times over by now.”

Ippe only chuckled. “It seems they both want an audience—her for her vanity, and he… well, I’m not sure. Is he really so confident? Or is he just hoping that someone will save him?”

Raan didn’t reply. He seemed unsure of the answer himself.

“Have you waited long enough for your audience?” Theron asked calmly.

The words made both of their eyes narrow.

…

“Have you waited long enough for your audience?”

Monet blinked, as though surprised that Theron would suddenly say this. Then, she sneered.

“Your mouth really is sharp. But it won’t change anything.”

“Take a battle stance,” was Theron’s only reply.

Monet frowned, a flash of rage coming to her eyes.

“For what you did to my brother, I’ll kill you.”

Theron hardly reacted to these words. His eyes didn’t flicker, his stance didn’t change, and yet it felt as though the air had become just the slightest hint colder.

Monet finally seemed to shift into something that had the semblance of battle intent. Her knees sank, her wrists became slightly less relaxed. For a moment, it actually looked as though she had the slightest hint of battle experience.

Her Mana churned.

And then she moved.

Fast.

It was the one thing she had going for her. She was sharp; her body whizzed through the air like a speeding bullet. It simply wasn’t the speed the Silver Resonance Realm could match.

BANG!

Chi.

The tree Theron had been standing in was suddenly cut to pieces. As though a cyclone of blades had passed by, it was chopped into countless bits, splinters flying through the air in a typhoon of wind.

But Theron was no longer standing there. The tendrils of water that had kept his branch from cracking beneath his weight launched him to the side.

He landed on the ground with the lightest of taps, the streams of light that formed the streaks of Monet’s blade all reflecting in his eyes.

Monet landed as well, instantly shifting. Her speed accelerated again, the momentum of her rapier and body becoming one as she appeared before Theron in a blink.

Theron thrust out his short sword almost casually, his blow carrying not the slightest hint of strength.

Monet met it, ready to shatter him to pieces, only to feel her thin blade vibrate.

Her rapier was parried, sliding off to the side.

Chi.

Theron’s dagger ripped into her gut so deep he almost sliced her Gold Core in two.