619 At Your Service
Dyon’s arms trembled as he flew toward Patriarch Ragnor as quickly as his body would allow.
He could feel that he was reaching his utmost limit… But, he had no choice but to carry on.
Blood spilled from wounds that constantly opened up on his body, his soul was screaming in pain, holding on by a final string that was only a breath away from being cut, and it felt like summoning any one of his wills was as difficult as lifting a 10 ton boulder…
Patriarch Ragnor’s laughter had long since been cut off. He couldn’t believe what he had just seen.
Few would understand just how powerful Elder Daiyu’s defenses were in that state, but how could Patriarch Ragnor not after witnessing it for himself?
The reason Dyon had previously been able to blow an arm off of Elder Daiyu and damage him severely was because in that state, Elder Daiyu was still suppressed to the realms of a celestial. In addition, his body and soul were greatly weakened, being more comparable to a saint – although a very strong peak saint.
As a result, Dyon was able to make use of the Dragon King’s disruption of Elder Daiyu’s focus, and a culmination of his most impressive wills to heavily damage him.
However… The state Elder Daiyu was in when Dyon killed him was on a completely different level.
Elder Daiyu had completely ignored the consequences and blazed his cultivation to their former levels – or, more accurately, as close to his former levels as his body would allow. This allowed his body strength to once again step into dao formation levels! A level that was capable of damaging the material Dyon’s puppet was made out of!
And yet, Dyon cut off not only his arm, but his head! The fact Dyon could have even scratched him before hand was a testament to the power boost his soul received to the peak dao formation level. But, to then take all of that power, and kill Elder Daiyu in that state?!
2 seconds…
Dyon heavily breathed over Patriarch Ragnor as he raised his scythe as quickly as his arms would allow. It had taken him much too long to fly over here, but without the black knight’s armor protecting him, and with how damaged his body already was, flying at peak speeds was no more than a joke.
Dyon didn’t waste any words. Even if he wanted to say something, he couldn’t. He simply didn’t have the energy to.
He had no idea what would happen after this swing, but he put everything he had into it. His only thoughts were of killing the 5-meter-tall man in front of him… The man that had put him into such a situation of endless despair… a man who had brought him to his knees…
Patriarch Ragnor said nothing as he watched the scythe descend. His eyes seemed to be less focused on Dyon, and more trained on the Dragon King’s weapon. He knew as much as anyone that Dyon had only survived this long because of that weapon. Without its protection, Elder Daiyu would have killed him and without its strength, he would have a ghost of a chance to injure either one of them… And yet, he had killed one of them!
Dyon roared with the last of his strength, his scythe glistening.
“To think I would be pushed this far… By a child!”
Saint energy erupted around Patriarch Ragnor. Dyon had hardly any time to register the fact that what he was sensing, simply didn’t make any sense!
The truth of the matter was more obvious than anyone was willing to admit. It was common knowledge that the Ragnors had an exceedingly difficult time at transcending heavenly tribulations. If you were a Ragnor that managed to survive crossing into sainthood, you were already a miracle among miracles and a treasured genius.
If you managed to transcend two tribulations and become a celestial? You would be among the highest officials in Ragnor clan history. You would simply be of too much importance. How could such an important official be sent to this tiny universe?!
That was not even to mention the fact Patriarch Ragnor had claimed to be a peak celestial. Someone like that would have a chance to transcend their final mortal tribulation would never be sent on such a mission to wither away in this universe.
From the very beginning, Patriarch Ragnor being a celestial made no sense!
Dyon didn’t think about it. All he could focus on was swinging his scythe faster and faster. He had locked down Patriarch Ragnor’s ability to move with his aurora steps and he had locked down Patriarch Ragnor’s ability to use wills with the Dragon King’s domain. He refused to believe that he would lose!
Patriarch Ragnor roared as the blade was just inches from his neck…
But, nothing happened…
Dyon’s scythe cleanly cut Patriarch Ragnor’s head in half, slicing through his ears from one side to the other.
Blood fell to the ground heavily, pooling at the former Ragnor God Clan’s head.
Dyon’s vision swam. The white blaze that had once surrounded him faded, leaving behind a bloodied teenage boy with too many broken bones to count.
His feet dragged as he walked to the stone etchings that held the seal. He had one final thing to do before his soul strength ran out completely.
Under the strength of The Seal, Dyon had no need for the Belmont family flames and the stone seal opened with ease. But, this time, the entity didn’t come. It would be helpless in front of the weapon of the 33 heavens, so it remained hidden.
The two bulbs of bobbing light were taken up by Dyon and stored within the seal. Dyon knew from his master’s memories that what was truly sealing the entity wasn’t the mortals.
The mortals were simply used as a proxy to chain the entity with the laws of this universe. This was why the energy density of the universe had plummeted, it was all being used to seal it. This was the same reason why although Dyon broke the soul seal, the seal on the entity itself never weakened.
The reason the martial world hadn’t simply given the mortal realm their talent back was because none of them had a means of breaking the seal after enough Gama energy was accumulated. By the time the seal on the mortals had fueled the gathering of sufficient Gama energy to properly seal the entity, Dyon’s master was nothing more than a soul and there weren’t any who were skilled enough array alchemists to make use of The Seal… Until Dyon.
With his task complete, Dyon sealed the stone array, feeling the last of his soul strength collapsing. If he didn’t hurry and find someone of something capable of stopping this collapse… He would die…
Gritting his teeth, he began the long journey to the Belmont Hold Land catacombs, hoping he’d manage to find his way out through the spatial fluctuations.
But, that was when a resounding laughter caused Dyon’s steps to freeze and his heart to tremble with an endless cold.
“To think… Me… Ha…” Patriarch Ragnor’s voice filled the space. He sounded half like a mad-man and half like a laughing clown. But either way, Dyon couldn’t help but turn his head listlessly toward the sound of the voice.
There stood a perfectly health Patriarch Ragnor. But, his hair was no longer that golden blond… Even his blue eyes had darkened to a deep brown…
“Since you’ve made me come out, I should give you a proper welcoming.” Patriarch Ragnor bowed in the air, spreading his arms out theatrically.
“Loki the trickster, at your service.”