Reaper of the Martial World

Book 13: Chapter 30: Penultimate Again

Dyon took a step forward, causing Aritzia’s knees to tremble.

“My Origin Source… What did you do to it?!”

“Isn’t this just the natural course? My Dao is stronger than yours, so yours was swallowed up. Did you really believe you were closing in to my previous strength? The people that I, Dyon Sacharro surpass, have no right to stand before me again!”

Dyon’s words were like a clap of thunder to Aritzia’s mind.

The last person he had spoken these words to was Chenglei. They were the same exact words, yet the status of the individuals who were victims to it were worlds apart.

But, this was exactly the kind of person Dyon was. It didn’t matter to him who stood before him. He would treat them all the same. His arrogance wasn’t one that faltered depending

on who he was facing. No matter what, his back would stand straight enough to pierce through the Heavens.

Aritzia was just yet another victim.

She hadn’t noticed it, but from the very beginning, Dyon had seen his path toward victory.

When he roared in his mind about simplicity, this wasn’t just him affirming his own Dao Heart. Rather, he was actually putting the matters of his heart into practice. He was so heavily suppressed by Aritzia’s Origin Source precisely because of how complex it was. It made it difficult for him to make use of all of his means.

But now, everything was suddenly flipping. Like a spreading infection, Dyon’s Dao had begun to eat away at Aritzia’s own, swallowing it without regard for anything.

The more time passed, the simpler Aritzia’s Origin Source became. And, as a result, it grew weaker as well.

For Peak Immortal Gods, since there was no higher cultivation realm, what truly separated them was the comprehension of their Daos. There was a reason why despite sharing the same cultivation levels as the Patriarchs and Matriarchs of their clans, their Ancestors could still look down arrogantly from above.

The more this went on, the further away from the status of those Ancestors Aritzia fell.

Never could she have imagined that Dyon would be capable of doing this.

Was his Dao really that much stronger than her own?

“… Your soul…”

“Oh, you noticed?” Dyon said indifferently.

Despite the fact Dyon’s soul was still in the Lower God Tier, there was something completely different about it that Aritzia couldn’t put her finger on. It felt as though it was right in front of her, yet so far away at the same time.

“I’m… unresigned.”

Aritzia’s fists clenched.

It was quite ironic. The one covered in blood was Dyon, not her. The one with more strength was her, not Dyon. She didn’t even have a single scratch on her, yet the one lowering her head wasn’t Dyon, but rather her, herself.

“I’m unresigned.”

Aritzia’s voice grew firmer.

Dyon took another step forward, his body suddenly vanishing.

His figure was bent low into a crouch, both his hands clasping Reaper as an ominous glow lit his eyes.

Aritzia’s heart trembled. Before this, she hadn’t been able to feel the slightest killing intent from her First Brother. Yet, now, it rammed toward her like a raging tide. It was so omnipresent that her face and hair distorted beneath the pressure, flying back as though she had just been hit by a wall of wind.

“I’M UNRESIGNED.”

Aritzia’s roar pierced through the veil of space.

She stepped forward toward Dyon’s swinging blade blowing out her palm in full force.

**

As Dyon’s battle with Aritzia had completely flipped over from a one sided affair, there was another battle taking place on the mortal plane. This one seemed to be in favor of those on

Dyon’s side as well. With Dyon’s wives and his daughter as a backbone, not to mention the Immortals that had followed them from the above Plane, their ability to defend and counter simply couldn’t be underestimated.

However, the main reason they could still stand was, without a doubt, the preparations Dyon had laid. The kinds of defenses they found on a mere mortal plane planet left them all completely shocked.

“First Brother, why don’t you let us do some work?” Pjisel looked toward Nazaire with exasperation.

“Shut up.” Nazaire snapped. “Obediently stand behind me and watch your First Brother’s prowess.”

Brahaman couldn’t help but laugh. “Don’t mind him Third Brother, First Brother’s always been this hard headed. He still feels bad about the

matters of all those years ago, so just relax and let him do all the work.”

Before Dyon returned, Pjisel had been his ‘first’ disciple, so they had called him First Brother. But, after regaining their memories, they all remembered their past lives. Nazaire was their First Brother, Brahaman was their Second, Pjisel was their Third, and Bowaye was the Fourth.

Nazaire blushed with shame hearing his Second Brother’s words, but he still firmly protected them to his back, slaying another golden horned unicorn with a silence filled palm. He was without a doubt one of the strongest combatants on the field.

All those years ago, after his Master left, they as four brothers were forced to carve out a path for themselves.

In truth, even Nazaire still wasn’t aware of exactly what happened all those years ago. Their

status as Dyon’s disciples should have been a secret, yet someone had actually found out and come after them.

He had no idea what the intentions of that person was, because even after Nazaire finally gained enough strength to dare to appear in public again after escaping that day, that person still hadn’t exposed his connection to Dyon.

But, it had been a long time since Nazaire cast this matter from his mind. After all, with his status as the best alchemist on the Immortal Plane, that person likely didn’t dare to offend him again. They probably realized he wasn’t so easy to deal with any longer and let things be.

That said… he would sometimes think about exactly what it was that person wanted. He said something about the Inheritance of their Master, but when Nazaire tried to explain to that person that the only Inheritance Dyon had left

them was precisely [One Above All], that person snubbed his nose at it and even killed his junior brothers one by one, trying to gain the truth.

Just when Nazaire thought that he would die as well, that person had suddenly looked off into the distance and ran away as though it was afraid of something.

Since then, Nazaire not only held onto the guilt of the deaths of his three junior brothers, he had never learned who that person was. He also had no idea what it was that had scared that person away at the final moment.

However, what he did know was that with his master back, no one would dare treat them like this any longer. And, even beyond that, even if his master was no longer here, his enemies would have to step over his corpse to lay a hand on his junior brothers!

Despite their teasing words, the three juniors couldn’t help but look toward their big brother’s back with warmth in their eyes. They could imagine how hard it had been for their First Brother to survive all this time without them.

Dyon had long since seen the heaviness in his First Disciple’s countenance, however there was only so much he could do. Something like guilt was too personal for another to interfere in too heavily. One only needs to look at Jade to understand this truth.

The three brothers exchanged glances. They could all see the determination in their eyes.

If they were stronger that day, their First Brother wouldn’t have to shoulder such guilt on his own. They refused to allow their First Brother to go through such a thing again.

In unison, the three brothers stepped forward.

“You all… Dammit, do you take your First Brother’s words for air?” Nazaire relentlessly scolded.

But his three younger brothers didn’t seem to hear him, laughing merrily as they held the line along with their First Brother.

“Master will definitely win.” Bowaye said with a grin, his half sprite body flickering with beautiful golden brown lights. “In that case, let’s all have some fun before he comes and sweeps these bastards away. If we lag behind too much, wouldn’t there not be any fun left to have?”

Hearing these words, Nazaire couldn’t help but erupt into laughter as well.

Having such a great master, they were of course burdened by a great sense of pressure. They all wanted to be worthy of carrying on the legacy of the Nameless Immortal God. Which one of their

dispositions wasn’t haughty and prideful beyond compare?

“Come!” Nazaire roared.

“Little Sister Alauna, leave this to us. Just recline and enjoy some cherry ice cream.” Bowaye said with a grin.

“Hmph.” Alauna snorted, stars circulated around her head, making her look like an angel descended from the skies. “Keep up. If you don’t kill as many as me, would you still have the face to let me call you Big Brother?”

The four men valiantly took the vanguard, carving a path through the army of gold. They would be just as unbridled and arrogant as their master.

They were unaware that in a certain corner of the battlefield, someone was watching on with patient eyes. They bided their time, pacing themselves without a care in the world.

But, if one looked closely, it seemed as though this person had everything in the palm of their hand. They could almost sense it, that perfect, penultimate time was coming.

Another penultimate moment was upon them. But this time, Little Yin and Yang weren’t aware enough to sense it, having not said a word since the battle between Dyon and Emytheus…