“Oh!” Dyon was pleasantly surprised. “I have to say, I didn’t expect any one of you to show up. For that, I apologize. I wouldn’t have been late if I knew.”

The lips of the group of old men twitched. They couldn’t tell if Dyon was being serious or not, but he seemed to be being sincere. But, that only made the situation all the more incredulous.

He had expected them not to appear? Then what would he have done had they not? What kind of havoc would he have caused?

“Young Venerable Sacharro, it is our obligation to respond to the call of the Golden Cauldrons. As long as Cauldron Two or One do not appear here, you have free reign over us. It is not a simple matter of your own prestige – though you deserve it – it is also a matter of Pill Sword Mountain’s face.”

There was nothing demeaning about being called young Venerable by these group of old men. Dyon could tell that they were all Empyreans. In this small world, just one of them appearing would be cause for a large procession, let alone eight of them being here like this.

The minimum realm one had to enter to become an Empyrean, by Dyon’s estimations, was the Immortal Celestial Realm. So, it was suffice to say that their standings were high. The mere act of them respectfully calling Dyon ‘young Venerable’ instead of ‘kid’ or ‘brat’ was already a large show of respect for them.

Seeing this, Dyon’s stance softened. He really had been expecting to have to run through a brick wall. But, it seemed Pill Sword Mountain’s prestige was even greater than he thought.

It was as they said: ignorance was bliss. Those of the desert bubble world were too far disconnected from society to realize how dangerous it had been playing with Dyon’s life like that. But, though this Dark Flame bubble world was still relatively low rung, they were ingrained enough in the secular world to know better.

Dyon obviously knew, then, that this wasn’t respect for him, but rather respect for Pill Sword Mountain. But, regardless of the reason, he wasn’t the kind of person to spit in the face of someone doing their best. There was no need to disrespect these old men. In fact, if they proved themselves to not be hiding their true intentions, he wouldn’t mind helping them out a bit.

After a few moments of thought, Dyon nodded.

“My requirements are not large. I only need a pill room to stay in.”

The Empyreans looked at each other, unable to hide their shock. They had been prepared for their resources to be gutted and to be demeaned by this young mortal, yet he had caused all of this commotion for a room to board in?

Dyon shrugged. “The Nightwell Clan annoyed me, I don’t feel like staying with them anymore.”

The old men pursed their lips, unsure of how to respond. Finally, it was the one that seemed to lead them and the same old man who spoke before who stepped forward.

“In that case, I will lead you to one of our best pill rooms, young Venerable Sacharro. I am the Head of our Dark Flame Tower Guild. You can call me Old Baron or Empyrean Baron.”

“I see. It’s nice to meet you Empyrean Baron. I won’t be imposing on you for long.”

Baron seemed incredibly satisfied with the name Dyon chose to call him. But, if he knew that Dyon chose this title because he viewed ‘old’ as a term of endearment for friends and not because he respected Baron, it’s unknown how he would feel.

Dyon only called his grand teacher and the Dragon King by that title. He didn’t feel like using it on an unknown Empyrean like this, at least not in the context of calling out to a friend.

Setting this aside, Dyon truly kept to his word. He disappeared into his pill room without another word. It likely wouldn’t be a long while until they saw them again.

As for Dyon himself, he was focused entirely focused on his task. Whether the Nightwell Clan allowed him to enter their world core or not was irrelevant to him. One way or another, he’d make his way there. He didn’t believe there was anyone who could stop him from sneaking in if he really wanted to. At least not in this place.

The retired Patriarch of the Nightwell Clan probably knew by now through Crystella that Dyon was a Spiritual Sage. And, he probably believed he could make contingency plans to deal with that.

However, he would probably work under the assumption that Dyon was a first grade Spiritual Sage. This wasn’t only because this seemed to be the most logical assumption, but also because if Dyon was any higher, even if he prepared, he would have no way of dealing with him.

And, unfortunately for the retired Patriarch, Dyon wasn’t just a single level higher, he was several levels higher. It simply didn’t matter what plans he made.

Due to the death of Kywen by still apparently unknown means to his Dimwell Clan, the event had actually been postponed, allowing Dyon much more time than he originally thought he would have to himself.

Why had Dyon bought up so many Venerable Grade Spiritual Herbs? Not only was it to imprint these herbs into his mind so that he could use Simulating the Hands of a Deity with them, but it was also to analyze their structure.

If he deepened his understanding enough, there would come a day where he could conjure Immortal grade pills from thin air as well…

Though it was still a shame. Had he known that this Dark Flame Tower would be so obedient, he wouldn’t have had to waste his own funds.