Theron left the throne room, his steps slow. The wind hit him as he reached the balcony, looking out into the distance. Whether by coincidence or not, the direction he looked was almost perfectly trained onto where the Sangun fortress would have been.
Petty games and petty answers.
Honestly speaking, when Theron first entered this realm, his goal was to win, and quite handily at that. But he didn't plan on doing so to an extent that he would reveal anything.
It wasn't on a metric of strength he was thinking, but rather on a level deeper than that. He didn't want to humiliate those he didn't have to humiliate, or step on any toes he didn't absolutely have to.
In this case, he might have allowed the Gold Clan more dignity in the way they lost, maybe allowing them to stretch out their ignoble existence for longer—if for no other reason than that their ire wouldn't be able to be aimed at him even if they so wanted it to.
