Dyon’s comprehension of the fundamental runes were far deeper than any mortal on this plane, including Emytheus. These slight shifts might confuse someone else… But to try and confuse him? Emytheus was asking for death.

“Is this the strength of the Creation God?!”

Dyon’s voice boomed, his disdain for the world shining forth.

His and Emytheus’ formed flashed continuously throughout the black, shattered space. Every time they met reverberating booms concentrated in concentric circles would blast outward, dispelling reality all the more.

“Show me more!”

The longer the battle continued, the more fundamental runes Dyon’s snatched. Every time Emytheus manipulated a new law of reality, Dyon’s Immortal Sense would see through it in an instant, adding it to his own strength in the blink of an eye.

He could still feel the Heavens trying to temper his strength down, but he was improving at an even faster speed. If his power halved every minute, he would improve by more than double. If his power dropped but a third, he would improve by more than three times!

Every one of Emytheus’ strikes seemed followed by a torrent of elements. In one moment, a pillar of sharp ice would assault Dyon from one side, in another, a piercing lightning would come from another.

Flashes and booms careened across the air. If either wanted, they could even directly step out from the Ancient Battlefield as they pleased. Its barriers were no longer able to keep them constrained, nor did it seem that the mortal plane itself was worthy of their presence.

Still, every attack Emytheus levied seemed to come with the perfect response from Dyon.

His movements were perfect and free flowing, the elegant arcs of his scythe coming with a trance-like rhythmic ease that followed the beating of one’s heart.

Fundamental runes of bronze, silver and gold warped around his body. Sometimes they could fuse and breathe new life where there was nothing there before, and at other times, they would collapse in on themselves, shattering the fabric of reality and the void for a devastating attack.

Dyon met ice with flames and lightning with earth. He met reflective palm strikes with a immovable wall and devastating counters with relentless attacks. His momentum embodied the world and his aura transcended planes.

He stood above it all, facing a God that blotted out the skies with his wings with an arrogant smile that made the latter’s heart tremble.

Dyon’s fist seemed to vanish, only to appear on Emytheus’ cheek. The satisfying feeling of deforming skin and bone reverberated through the black, collapsing space. The concentrated air blasted Emytheus’ hair backward, his face seemingly collapsing to one side before quickly reforming under his mighty healing factor.

Dyon followed up quickly, his speed surpassing the bounds of reason as a kick slammed into Emytheus’ side, shattering the latter’s arm and crumpling his body at an awkward angle. 𝘪𝘳.𝒸𝑜𝑚

“Ha!” Dyon’s roar expanded out from his chest, his scythe descending from the skies to meet Emytheus’ quickly crossing arms.

A crisp slicing sounded, chopping Emytheus’ forearms off.

Reaper’s blade followed through, cutting into Emytheus’ chest and out through his leg.

Emytheus retreated explosively, his chest mending and his arms manifesting new appendages from thin air.

He countered Dyon without missing a beat, his palm striking against the side of Dyon’s ribcage and shattering an elbow he used to block the following strike.

Dyon’s own body recovered in a flash with a simple Heal. However, unlike Emytheus, he didn’t retreat at all, his maddened dash forward continuing onward unceasingly. .𝒎

He wanted that fear in Emytheus’ heart to grow fiercer. He wanted this so-called God to know that to him, he would always be nothing but an ant. He was a young man born from two mortal parents, but today he would cut down a God and enrage the Heavens. He wanted the skies above his head to know that they couldn’t oppress him as they pleased. They would be above him for only as long as he allowed it. There would come a day where even the Heavens themselves were trampled beneath his feet!

“Ruler of the Skies! Ruler of the Sea! Ruler of the Underworld!” Emytheus’ brown eyes flashed so brightly that they became gold. “You truly live up to your name, Dyon Sacharro.”

Emytheus didn’t know when, but he had long since stopped caring about Aritzia. This was no longer about a woman. This was about his pride, his Dao, his heart. He refused to allow himself to be trampled beneath the feet of another. This victory, it was going to be his, it was destined to be his.

“I command the three layers of the firmament. Obey my Decree – Heavens, Earth and Sea!”

Emytheus’ platinum wings stretched outward for hundreds of miles, pulling out on themselves taut. For a moment, they looked no different from 12 blades of judgement with edges sharp enough to sever worlds.

His aura skyrocketed, qi surging toward him from all sides.

Middle Dao Realm. Higher Dao Realm. Peak Dao Realm!

“Archangel’s Descent: True Judgement.”

It was just the first technique Emytheus had used since the start of the battle, yet the result was devastating.

The Creation World Emytheus formed disappeared, revealing the Ancient Battlefield that acted as the backdrop for their battle.

Dyon subconsciously moved to one side, just barely avoiding an apocalyptic blade he could hardly perceive.

And that was when it happened.

The strike descended upon the ground below, burrowing deeply within the Ancient Battlefield’s plane and shattering a portion of it as though it was nothing.

The Ancient Battlefield hung in the skies like a pie with a slice taken out of it, Emytheus’ singular strike taking out almost a quarter of the expansive Eastern Region to reveal the depths of space that surrounded this plane…

Before Dyon could take in what happened, a second imperceptible strike came.

Dyon’s body tensed, his strength blooming to its greatest heights as his scythe swung downward.

He pushed its weight to its maximum potential, increasing the size of its blade to stretch of tens of miles.

The moment their strikes met, Dyon felt Reaper quake, its blade chipping under the strain. If it wasn’t for the support of Dyon’s strength, Reaper would have been sliced in half completely, unable to hold its true form.

This content is taken from 𝘳𝑎.𝒸ℴ