When Baron finished speaking, the talismans appeared.?They seemed to be higher quality than the ones Crystella had been using, so it seemed the three Clans had splurged a bit on this competition.

“I don’t like this.” Crystella’s mother frowned as she observed the projection from the underground.

Dyon wasn’t actually meant to take Saru and Lilith on with him, they had others of their own prepared in case Dyon was fool’s gold. On top of this, seeing Dyon with other women pissed Mistress Nightwell off. If it wasn’t for the importance this event held, she would have already blasted Dyon into a cloud of blood.

Dyon’s actions were beyond reckless, but there was something about his gaze when he stepped by them that made their minds go blank for a moment. They had realized that Dyon had no intention of leaving Saru and Lilith behind, nor did he apparently feel like storing them in that spatial treasure Crystella mentioned he had.

However, what was even more infuriating was the fact Dyon sent a single glance toward the 16 talismans and completely ignored them.

A flash of gold pulsed to his back before he fell back into a comfortable couch as though he was already exhausted. The Nightwell Clan could only watch on, speechless.

“Is this really what I came here to watch?!”

An older man with dark grey eyes swung his sleeve in a huff. He was the Spiritual Sage of the Nightwell Clan and the only Spiritual Sage of their bubble world. Everyone called him Sage Ademar.

However, he wasn’t a member of the Nightwell Clan. He was only a Spiritual Sage they managed to hire from the Spirit Sage Association. He was incredibly irritable and even more difficult to handle.

But this time, a strong pressure suppressed him before he could say more.

“I’ve been very tolerant, Sage Ademar. We’ve already paid you quite well just to be here. Take it as free payment for having to do nothing and be quiet.”

Everyone looked over shocked as the usually amiable retired Patriarch sent down these words from his throne.

Sage Ademar was stunned silent.

He had always used his profession to throw his weight around. Spiritual Sages were simply far too rare. But, he was under no illusions that he was a match for the retired Patriarch. He happened to be talented in the sensing soul path, but he wasn’t very powerful himself.

The old fogie might not dare to kill him, but teaching him a lesson really would not be a problem.

Plus, the retired Patriarch was right. He had already been paid. In fact, what he was doing now was easier than what he had been tasked to do. He had honestly just been looking for an excuse to leave without standing here and watching such a thing.

In the end, he fell silent, his jaw setting.

“Focus on yourself!”

In the arena, Tedric’s voice filled the ears of the representative for his Darkwell Clan. .

“But…!”

“No buts. Focus on your task at hand. Don’t pay attention to anything he does, and don’t waste your time antagonizing him.”

Hearing these staunch words, the Darkwell Clan representatives had no choice but to put their heads down and begin discussing among one another. Soon after them, the Dimwell Clan also followed suit, their leader only sending one last glare toward Dyon who was chatting with Saru and Lilith.

“I thought you hadn’t ever drawn a talisman before, should you at least start?” Lilith asked innocently.

Dyon all but rolled his eyes at her words. It wasn’t because he disdained her question, but rather because he knew she wasn’t really asking. She had only said those words so that others would hear her.

Dyon gave a ‘I know what you’re trying to do’ glance toward this mischievous woman.

The tempers of the two other groups flared once more, their concentrated auras growing.

Dyon went back to observing the heavenly herb in his hand, allowing the time to tick by.

Without the commentary of the announcer, the competition turned quite stale. There simply weren’t enough of the commoners who understood what was happening.

Realizing that things couldn’t continue like this, or else people would stop paying for entry, come the second day, the announcer was replaced. However, maybe out of fear for what happened to the last one, this announcer refused to say anything about what the crowd really wanted him to talk about: Dyon.

Dyon became like a massive elephant in this otherwise impossible large arena, while the man himself seemed to not have any idea about what was happening.

Eventually, the third day came and half it passed by.

By now, everyone realized that Dyon was working alone. From time to time, Saru would ask him a question about the announcer’s commentary and he would answer, making it clear that their knowledge in the matter was incredibly shallow. Just what was the Nightwell Clan thinking?

“Ah, that’s how it works.” Dyon suddenly said, perking up.

“Pft…” Lilith stifled a giggle. “There’s only 30 minutes left, maybe you should do something.”

“Oh, is there? I meant to leave an hour…” Dyon muttered.

It seems he got too caught in his most recent heavenly herb. Even the other two groups had finished, it seems.

“You said that the Heavens don’t like the number 10 and 16, what are you going to do about it, then?” Lilith asked, continuing to goad him.

“Fuck the Heavens, what has it ever done for me? I’m too lazy to bother about it.” Dyon said lazily. “If it doesn’t like 10 and 16, I’ll make it like 10 and 16. There’s something about the number 9 I especially hate.”

Before others could react to his words, Dyon’s soul qi rushed forth like a high tide, swallowing the arena that covered dozens of miles.

Sage Ademar was stunned. He realized at that moment that Dyon’s soul strength was far beyond his own.

The 16 talismans on the long table shot upward, hovering around Dyon.

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