Reaper of the Martial World

Book 12: Chapter 62: An Overlord (2)



Book 12: Chapter 62: An Overlord (2)

“Yes?” Dyon looked over his shoulder.

At this point, there were even guards rushing over. There usually weren’t any around Amethyst’s courtyard for the aforementioned taboos. But, they obviously had no choice to come now.

It was safe to say that Dyon’s casual remark toward their retired Patriarch most definitely didn’t sit well with them. And, this was especially so when they realized that Dyon was a mortal.

But, before they could act, Dyon swept a glance over them as though to say ‘piss off’. There were no words exchanged, nor were there any energy fluctuations, but a cold sweat matted the backs of the battle hardened guards.

They stopped moving entirely, trying to hide their trembling with stiff upright postures.

“… It isn’t very polite to instruct the servants of another household.” The retired Patriarch said slowly.

“Maybe not.” Dyon said with a shrug. “Wouldn’t be necessary though if their owner was better.”

The old man’s gaze narrowed. “You really don’t fear me, do you?”

“Is there a reason I should?”

“I know of your confrontation with the black dragon. I would likely be greatly rewarded for giving that information over.”

“Please do so, you’d be greatly helping me out.” Dyon replied nonchalantly. “I want those lizards to know that I’m coming.

“And, call him ‘black dragon’ again and you’ll make an enemy out of me. His title is Dragon King.”

“That’s enough!” Crystella’s father took a furious step forward, causing the mansion to quake. “Watch your words boy, or I’ll cut your tongue out.”

Patriarch Nightwell was a temperamental man to begin with. The only reason he hadn’t spoken to this point wasn’t out of respect for Dyon, but out of respect for his own father. Even though the old man had stepped down, Crystella’s father still took him for the de facto leader of their Clan. As such, if the old man was speaking, it wasn’t his place to interfere.

But, there was only so much he could take. Let alone a mortal, even if an Immortal Celestial born genius descended to this place he wouldn’t accept such disrespect.

Of course, this was the difference between he and Dyon. For Dyon, he didn’t care even if it was an Immortal God.

“How tiresome.” Dyon shook his head. “If there’s nothing you wanted, then I’ll be leaving.”

“Dyon, wait!” Crystella’s voice was almost frantic. It wasn’t quite there yet, but the change was completely unexpected for the maidservants and guards who had never seen their young mistress act in such a way.

“What is it this time?” Dyon was quite done with this place at this point.

The usual him would have lashed out and attacked someone by now, but the simple truth was that it he would have to go all out just to face up against a Lower Immortal Celestial. He couldn’t beat all of them.

In truth, he couldn’t even beat one of them. Both of Crystella’s parents were Peak Immortal Celestials. And, her grandfather seemed infinitesimally close to the Immortal Law Realm. The only reason he didn’t feel the need to be tense was because he didn’t believe they had the ability to stop him from leaving this place if he really wanted to.

Plus, he also still had that paperweight. He was sure he could force some alchemy guilds to his side if it came to that.

“My Nightwell Clan will be facing the Darkwell and Dimwell Clans soon. If you could participate under our banner, we would reward you greatly!”

Crystella spoke faster than anyone could interrupt. Even her parents were stunned silent by her borderline begging attitude.

“Why would you need my help for something like that? If that corpse Kywen and that snitch Tedric are the best those two Clans have to offer, you alone should be enough.”

Dyon gave Crystella the courtesy of response and withholding his laughter. Nigthwell, Darkwell and Dimwell? Who the hell named these families?

[Author’s Note: … ]

“I can easily handle battle, but the competition is about more than just this. There’s still an alchemy and formation portion. I’ve never been good at these things and the talents we do have are too lacking.”

“Is this competition important?”

“Yes, very important. It decides who maintains control of the core of this world. Our Nightwell Clan has maintained control for billions of years, but my birth took much of the karma away from this generation. So, aside from me, the talents are lacking.”

Dyon raised an eyebrow internally. So karma worked like that too? How interesting.

‘But the world core? That, I most definitely have to see. I can probably comprehend 9th level Immortal Essence in this world in a few years. It’s not exactly abundant in this place, but its definitely much more than what they had on the desert world…’

“Sure, I can guarantee a win in any category I participate in. But in return, I want to see your world core.”

“Absolutely not!” Patriarch Nightwell roared.

“In addition.” Dyon continued. “If she’s being held here prisoner, I suggest that you release her.”

Crystella was shocked when she saw that Dyon was pointing toward Amethyst.

“What do you mean? My Master isn’t a prisoner!”  

“Oh? Is that so?” Dyon swept a glance over the retired patriarch. “Well, I don’t care much either way since she so rudely refused my help.”

Without another word, Dyon walked back to his courtyard, not sparing Amethyst another glance.


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