Rivers of the Night

Thessa stood in silence, her eyes aimed toward the ground as she waited. There were a few others around her, though only two really mattered—both of whom were from the Luminiscent Moon Sect.

They weren’t really of concern, actually. One of them was from the Ironhart Clan, a young man that seemed to have become Thralix’s replacement. He was Drystan’s little brother, and technically the dead Thralix’s cousin.

He was only at the Eighth Resonance, but he was also about a year younger than Thralix.

Though this was the case, no one was under any illusions that he and Thralix were on the same level, not unless he—by some miracle—awakened his bloodline to Silver Resonance as well.

The other member of the Luminiscent Moon Sect was of the Ashenvale Clan, a familiar young lady with a shockingly pale face. This was the younger sister of the Ashenvale Clan pair.

This young lady was technically an enemy, but Thessa couldn’t bring herself to take her seriously in the slightest. Today, she had come here for the sake of entering the Fourth Level; she didn’t care about anything else.

However, that didn’t stop her from being on full alert. Drystan’s little brother, Veron, made sense. The Ironharts had already extended an olive branch to the Nightingales, and were likely here to show their loyalty.

But why were the Ashenvales here?

Thessa sent a glance toward the young girl. She had an odd name, Oxon, they called her. It was a weirdly masculine name for such a fragile little girl. She must have been at least 16 or 17 given her strength, but she looked closer to 12 years old than anything else.