Chapter 82: Adjustments
Burne’s hands twitched in the corner. He wanted to cut Theron’s head off with every fiber of his being, but he forced himself to stop looking so intently at the boy’s side profile and instead look at his Patriarch.
"Is that so?" Dean Thistle asked, his voice flat and not carrying the slightest hint of his earlier amusement. It was quite clear that if Theron didn’t have a very good reason for saying what he said, he would kill him right here.
There was a certain dignity that strong cultivators needed to have.
Maybe if it wasn’t for Thralix and this setback, he would have already acted and Theron wouldn’t even know when his head flew from his shoulders.
"If you were ready to start your war now, you wouldn’t be in this Imperial Academy."
"There’s a difference between winning a war of attrition and winning a war by a landslide. Why choose the former when you can have the latter?"
The words weren’t empty. If the Thistles were so easy to defeat, the Nightingales would never allow this disrespect to continue.
The fact they had such an alliance with the Firewings, and yet still let the Thistles rampage like this… well, that spoke volumes about something that Theron still hadn’t fully understood yet.
"In other words, you aren’t ready," Theron said plainly. "Killing her will get you the face you’ve lost back, and likely strain and shatter the relationship between the Nightingales and the Firewings, but the gains don’t outweigh the losses."