Reaper of the Martial World

Book 8: Chapter 152: Trump Card (1)

The atmosphere between Lilith and Dyon was stifling. No. It was more like the aura emanating from Dyon was, while Lilith’s rage pierced through it to create her own eye of the storm. It was clear to everyone that Dyon’s momentum was far stronger, but it was admirable that Lilith hadn’t taken a single step back.

Dyon suddenly sighed, his neck cracking to one side. He hadn’t had this many issues dealing with a person in a while. Though, one might choose to count Aritzia among that number. But, after some reflection, Dyon realized that his failure to peg Aritzia was more about not understanding her scope of the world rather than failing to understand her character itself.

He lightly floated into the air, coming to a stop well above the Enigmatic Sect. He took a deep breath, almost not noticing Lilith who had followed him into the skies.

‘What a refreshing atmosphere. Not just enigmatic qi… I feel like its easier to comprehend planet qi here too. Maybe I should come back when it’s time to grasp star qi…’

Dyon’s left arm flashed to the side. A flash of white and black blanketed a hundred-meter space of the skies. The half-step dao array flickered beautifully despite having an illusory feel.

It was then that it took shape, a weapon diametrically opposed to Lilith’s.

The katana the Ravana Princess held in her hand was the very same one she used to battle Dyon the first time. A long katana blade, peaking at over 6 feet long with the slightest of curves toward its tip. It was a pure, blemishless white, matching Lilith’s hair and fluttering gown. If you took the blade away, she appeared as fragile as a falling leaf coated in pure snow.

Dyon’s blade, however, was a condensed black. Though, it was identical in every other way.

Lilith trembled with rage. He actually dared to use a replica of her blade. This was a greater insult than anything Dyon had ever done to her.

Her delicate white cheeks flushed, her small hands gripping the longer than usual hilt of her katana.

How many years had she slaved away? Caring for only one weapon, swinging with only one weapon… She didn’t even cultivate, nurturing nothing but her way of the sword. Yet, Dyon actually dared to appear with not just any weapon, but a replica of her own katana. It was such a fierce slap to the face that she could almost feel his palm print blistering her skin.

As if matters weren’t humiliating enough, he actually dared to use his left hand, when she knew very clearly that his right was his dominant. How could she know that the right hand she could see now was a fake constructed by Dyon?

Her eyes turned cold, her erratic breathing expelling out in a single stream of steady air.

Lilith’s sword trembled. No, it was the space around it that did. Her actual arm and blade were so steady that she seemed like an immovable statue.

Lilith’s deep black eyes closed. In that moment, those watching no longer felt that Dyon was stifling Lilith. The change was so subtle that they almost didn’t notice. It almost as though it had always been that way, that it would always be that way.

A stream of continuous, unending strength… an Immortal strength.

Lilith’s eyes flashed open. A deep ruby red almost shot like a laser toward Dyon as she shifted her feet.

She appeared before Dyon. No. It once more felt that she had always been there, like she would always be there.

Her form was compact, both of her hands taking control of the sword. It seemed that at any moment, she would slice Dyon’s neck. In fact, if her shifted forward just a few inches, her forehead would land on Dyon’s chest.

‘So this is the true power of your sword…’ Dyon’s thinking speed was greater than a blaze of light. If his and Lilith’s cultivation were the same, maybe it would have been impossible to react. Even if his divine sense could see through it, his body wouldn’t be able to keep up.

However, Lilith wasn’t at his cultivation, she was a large barrier below him.

‘[An Inch. A Mile].’ Dyon thought silently.

His feet shifted ever so slightly back. It looked as though it had only moved a fraction of an inch, but somehow he had already appeared several meters away.

‘[Wash the World With Light – ]’

Dyon’s eyes constricted into pinholes.

He had just executed the very first Earth Grade movement technique he had begun to comprehend. After finally completing that mastery of over 1000 common grade techniques in over a ten-year span, Dyon was eager to finally creep forward toward techniques that truly matched his prowess level. He had the utmost confidence in this movement technique that seemed to defy the laws of reality by making small movements large, and vice versa.

So why was it that when he should have appeared several meters from Lilith, just enough to still be in range to attack, that it felt like nothing had changed? Why was her forehead still so close to his chest? Why was her blade still so close to his neck? Why did it feel like he had never moved at all? That he had always been there… That he would forever be there… That he was trapped for an eternity…?