For two full minutes, no one said a word. The air in the cafeteria thickened, heavy with held breaths and widening eyes. Judging from Theon’s posture—shoulders squared, chin lifted, weight balanced on the balls of his feet—it seemed like he had come prepared to make trouble. “That spineless wimp actually dared to attack Brody?” someone muttered from the left side of the hall, the words barely louder than a breath. Theon’s gaze slid toward the speaker, slow and deliberate. The girl immediately felt a chill crawl down her spine, as if winter had settled between her shoulder blades. His eyes were like a dark abyss, endless and swallowing. Her chest tightened, her arrogance draining out of her like water through a cracked cup. Her gaze dropped to the polished stone floor, unable to meet his. Theon returned his attention to the so-called Brody. He was an upper-average student, considered strong on a normal scale, but not exceptional. However, because he came from a powerful backgroun

Theon slowly picked up a wooden spatula on a nearby table, slowly weighing it in his palm. He didn't panic, shocking those coming for him. The boy watching from the dark corner adjusted his position again, straddling the chair. The show was getting more and more interesting. Theon noticed their hesitation and stepped back, towards the door. The boy who was initially apprehensive over his unnatural calm exhaled. It seemed the loser was still very much what he was; a massive trash. Loser of the highest order. Theon looked around him. He was currently broke. He couldn't afford to put furniture in his own room, how will he get money to replace the tables in the cafeteria? That was such a massive loss he was unwilling to hear. Breaking bones was fine, but crushing tables? No no no. That couldn't be done. Brody on seeing the sheer number of people standing up, ready to beat Theon to a pulp smirked. He jumped over the table, and broke a bowl in the process. Theon gasped and looked aroun

The satisfied smile on Vayka’s face froze, then gradually dissipated like mist under a scorching sun. His eyes dropped to Theon’s arm. It was bleeding alright, dark red welling from the shallow gash where the blade had kissed flesh. But there was no sizzling sound. No burning. No wisp of black smoke rising like a funeral pyre. Nothing to indicate that the holy artifact had made contact with something filthy, something unclean, an anomaly that should have recoiled and dissolved on contact. Theon just stood there, staring down at the bleeding wound on his arm. Vayka's gaze returned to the arm, careful and deliberate as he scanned and inspected it for possible missed clues. There was nothing. Only Theon parting the torn fabric of his sleeve to inspect the extent of the damage, turning his forearm this way and that as if assessing a minor inconvenience. The boy watching from the dark corner frowned, his brows knitting together. This didn’t make sense to him. Not one bit. “This…” The

Theon was ignorant of the anticipatory wicked glances he was receiving, more concerned about finishing the food in record time. The tray in front of him was half gone already, steam still rising from the soup bowl, and his chopsticks moved without pause. Soon, the soup bowl was emptied, the rice bowl almost emptied. Those watching him with glee became increasingly confused. He was still eating. There was no change in his respiration, no flush on his cheeks, no tremor in his hands. Was he still human? If Theon knew what they were thinking, he would have laughed out loud. He could clear out the entire dark energy in the Netherworld Wasteland in such a short time without dying. What was this mild bowl of soup worth that would make him die? He could absorb daegis without blinking, as for soup with just a little bit of energy, it was basically a walk in the park. Nothing worth mentioning. A drop of water into a boundless ocean. His Primordial Supreme Yin-Yang Dao Body would simpl

Reza appeared confused, unable to wrap his head around the reason Kane was smiling to himself like a maniac. Whatever it was making him so smug, and causing the schadenfreude rippling out of him in waves, it would definitely not be simple. “Young master, don’t you want me to finish him off?” Kane laughed and looked at Reza, the sound low and edged with something sharp. “Why would I want to do that?” His grin widened, stretching to an almost predatory intensity. “He used to be my good friend after all. If I give him a gift, it should be memorable and loud enough to make endless waves.” Kane might be impulsive on occasion, but he wasn’t stupid. If he assassinated Jareth at this crucial moment, everyone would immediately think he was the culprit. The celestial dean would once again be put in a tough spot. The tiny veil of cordiality between Solvyn and Mavis would be completely torn off, causing a host of problems that could shake the academy to its roots. He had to play it cool