Compared to the commotion Dyon caused, Nazaire was more measured and controlled. It seemed as though nothing in this world could affect him.

The radiating rings of energy coming from Dyon and his cauldron completely dispelled after crossing over to his side, dispelling into nothingness.

If everyone wasn’t so focused on their performances and looked into the skies, it would be possible to see that tribulation clouds were already converging… However, they had split into two halves.

Between Nazaire and Dyon, there was a deep ravine that even the billowing and arrogant clouds of heaven couldn’t cross.

Countless heavenly phenomena attempted to cross between the deep valley, only to fail in the end.

Violent arcs of lightning, raging torrents of fire, vicious winds of yin. It seemed as though elements of all kinds were trying to descend. The only thing stopping them was a flimsy barrier of impact between the ideologies of two men.

Nazaire’s calm eyes suddenly shone brightly.

All alchemists understood exactly what was happening. The final step.

The rumbling of the clouds above grew more fervent. One could almost imagine the tribulation lightning like a chained beast just a step away from ripping itself free.

“HA!”

Nazaire roared. Even in comparison to Dyon’s, it was several levels more imposing.

BANG!

The first streak of lightning descended from the skies.

BANG! BANG!

They fell continuously, ceaselessly, unrestrainedly.

At this point, they didn’t even seem to be streaked of lightning. They took the form of roaring flood dragons, assaulting the treasured cauldron of Pill Sword Mountain.

However, the truth was that what shocked the alchemists the most wasn’t just the size of the lightning, but rather… its color. Each and every strike was such a bright gold that the dark clouds were completely overwhelmed. Never mind just Pill Sword Mountain, it felt as though the whole of the martial world was being illuminated by this lightning.

Gold lightning… This was simply obscene.

Of the legends of tribulation lightning, there was no lightning that could boast a greater strength. Even Dyon, who was absolutely abhorred by the Heavens, had only ever suffered green streaks of lightning at worst during his own tribulations, the strength of which was more than five levels beneath gold lightning.

One would think that this only made sense. After all, the last tribulation Dyon underwent was of the mere Dao grade, while this was a peak god grade pill. However, if one were to think this, it would be inappropriate.

It had to be remembered that tribulation lightning was always adjusted to a strength appropriate to its target. Simply put, the weakest yellow lightning was always scaled to the average strength of its target.

What did this mean? It meant that if Nazaire’s pill called down yellow lightning, it would already be at the Peak God Grade level. But… It had called down gold lightning…

Every step up in grade meant a doubling in the strength of lightning… white lightning was seven steps above that of yellow lightning… This meant that these strikes – every single one of them – was 128 times the strength of a Peak Immortal God!

Nazaire had actually managed to concoct a nine times refined phantom pill! That was simply unheard of! In fact, in the history of the Immortal Plane, the number of nine time refined peak god grade pills could be counted on one’s fingers. As for phantom pill – of any level for that matter – they had never appeared!

This time, the numbness really did become pain. But it was a specific type of heartache. Many alchemists simply found it too difficult to even fathom the gap between them and Nazaire. Their admiration could only become this sort of dull pain in response.

For a long while, many forgot that Nazaire even had a competitor. Countless billions of pairs of eyes stared longingly at his cauldron which had a lid still tightly sealed.

Nazaire simply sat before it, not moving an inch. He hadn’t even reacted when the last tribulation lightning landed.

Though the observers knew that phantom pills wouldn’t have the same efficacy as a true pill, one that managed to reach the refined realm would have a small percentage of its medicinal strength. A one times refined phantom pill would have 10% while a nine times refined pill would have 90%.

Of course, in all of history, the greatest phantom pill concocted to now was merely of the top-grade, so all of this was theoretical and had never been proven. But… just at the thought of a pill with 90% the efficacy of a peak god grade pill, many eyes went green.

However, what could they do? Even if Nazaire had no combat prowess of his own – something that only a fool would assume – after today, he would most definitely be recognized as the greatest alchemist of this generation if not of every generation. What could they possibly do to him?

Unfortunately, that alchemist they were all clambering to crown continued to sit silently, not moving even an inch. It wasn’t a long while later that they all realized he was looking at something.

When they turned toward the direction, they finally remembered Dyon’s existence.

At this moment, he was in a sorry state. No one knew what happened as they had stopped watching him, but his entire body was practically ripped to shreds.

With haggard breaths, he stood over Little Chibi’s body, a hand placed on her lid. One could tell from the strain of his arm that he was clamping down with all his might.

But they could only watch on with contemptuous gazes. There was not even a tribulation. Was there a point in continuing to struggle like this?

However, Dyon didn’t have eyes for them. His gaze had already met Nazaire’s for a long while.

Then, he spoke his next words slowly.

“… What I hate the most is to be tested. I hate when those who deem themselves to be better than me believe they have the capability to evaluate my limits.”

Nazaire’s pupils constricted into pinholes.

“Even the Heavens do not have the right to test me.”