Talent

Theron looked at Sigil's hand for a long time.

An oath taken on one's Core was heavy. It was the one Forbidden Spell that any cultivator could cast themselves.

Sigil's request was unexpected… the oath was even more so.

Reaching forward, Theron took his hand.

"Alright."

Sigil grinned, his fingers tightening around Theron's hand.

"Good! In that case, I look forward to hearing about our success."

"You aren't coming?" Theron asked.

Sigil sighed, shaking his head. "It's not something my father would allow. I'm his only heir. This will be left up to you. I have a feeling, though, that when you return, you just might be able to stand shoulder to shoulder with me."

There was a sincere grin on Sigil's face. He hadn't made his oath lightly.

"Alright, I've done my duty. If you survive this time, everything will change."

"I will," Theron said calmly.