Dread coated the brows of the five Ancestors. As though beasts facing their predator, their bodies became stiff and immobile. They completely disregarded Dyon’s cultivation. No matter how hard they looked, they only saw that Dyon was still a mortal who hadn’t even stepped into the lowest Immortal Essence Realm. Yet, did they dare to believe this? The pressure they felt told a story far different from this.

Within the eyes of a few of the Ancestors, there was rage flickering away. It was no surprise that many of them had had dealings with Dyon in the past. In fact, the Elven Ancestor wasn’t even the one with the greatest rage in her eyes despite the circumstances of their last meeting. Even the youngest of them, the Dragon Ancestor, who should have had the least dealings with him, curled up his massive golden body, looking down as though he had met the enemy of a lifetime.

Dyon slowly made his way forward, the landscape continuously shifting and changing beneath his presence.

By now, his identity was undeniable. Many of the Ancestors here had seen him through the projection images just a few months ago. However, even then, they couldn’t have imagined that the mortal who defeated Nazaire was actually the Nameless Immortal God. It was only now that he stood before them that they were aware of just what kind of mistake they had made.

Not only was he back… but he had been for a long while already.

“Look at you, old man. I leave for a few years and you end up in such a sorry state. How can you have the face to say you’re my master like this?”

Dyon’s indifferent expression bloomed with a smile as he looked toward the old man wearing white, flowing sleepwear. He hadn’t seen his master in a long time and he could only say that he missed the old man. In his heart, Abraxus had the same position as his parents. He was no different from half a father to him.

“I’ve gotten old.” Abraxus replied with a shrug. “I’ll teach you a proper lesson later for daring to go off on your own like that without saying a word.”

The old man snorted, but the smile on his face exposed the happiness in his heart. For a long while now, he had thought his first disciple was dead. When he deduced that Dyon had actually been that disciple he took as his own son, he had been happy beyond words. But, he obviously wouldn’t let this insufferable brat know that.

The five Ancestors didn’t react with humiliation like the Immortal Gods who attacked the First White Mother. Not to mention that their mind states couldn’t compare to those youngsters, they knew that if there was anyone worthy of disregarding them, it was these two.

“You five.”

Dyon turned a cold gaze toward the five Ancestors after he finished shaking his head and smiling toward his master. He was like a completely different person in the blink of an eye, as though he had returned to the predatory beast they were fearful of just a moment ago.

“I knew that you were foolish, but I didn’t think you would be foolish to the extent of willfully becoming the blade of another.”

Dyon’s sharp gaze caused the Ancestors to frown. Blade of another?

The Elven Ancestor sneered, her pretty face almost seeming adorable in her rage.

“Are you trying to say that we were played and you aren’t responsible? Do you really expect us to believe that?”

“Hey, old hag, when have I, Dyon Sacharro, ever been one to explain myself? Do you think I care to do so? Since you want to fight, let’s fight!”

“You!”

At that moment, a flood of memories were revived in their minds. The name, Dyon Sacharro, which had seemed so foreign to them, had become like a clap of thunder, resonating with thoughts that had been buried for countless millennia.

It had been so many years that they had completely forgotten the temperament of this man. There were many times in the past where the Nameless Immortal God was involved in conflicts, only for them to realize at a later date that those conflicts wouldn’t have happened at all as long as he was willing to leave a few words of explanation behind.

The years and her anger had caused her to forget the stubborn and infuriating nature of this man. How many Immortal Gods had died unresigned deaths simply because this man disdained to explain himself?

Dyon really didn’t hesitate any longer. The moment his words fell, he stepped into the air, a bland grey piece of earth following behind his every step.

“Nameless, do you really think you’re still the same invincible God?!” Ysabell was completely enraged.

“Old man, you take the he-she sprite and the featherless bird, leave the other three to me since you’re crippled of old age.”

Abraxus rolled his eyes. Dyon was really too shameless. It sounded like Dyon really was giving him the easier task, but Ancestor Haven and Ancestor Empress Elsie – the sprite and phoenix Ancestors respectively – had the greatest seniority here. They were definitely the most difficult opponents here.

“I see you left and became more shameless.”

Dyon grinned and ignored his master. “Come on old hag, little lizard. You too, little angel. I’ve been bored bullying your juniors on the mortal plane. I hope you’ll give me a good show.”

When Godefray, the Angel Ancestor, heard these words, his pupils constricted.

“You… It can’t be that you’re the one who ruined our plans!? That was trillions of years of preparation for the rise of a single Ancestral Constitution!”

Dyon smiled. He obviously knew that this Godefray was speaking of Emytheus.

“Well, it’s not like I killed him…”

Godefray wanted to breathe a sigh of relief, but Dyon’s next words were like a bucket of cold water over his heart.

“But, I can’t promise that my daughter hasn’t plucked his wings clean by now. As if he would ever be a match for my little girl.”

“YOU! YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU’VE RUINED!”

According to seniority, though the sprite and phoenix Ancestors were the oldest, the Angels, as a race, were older than even them. After all, the Angels had roots in the Chaos Era. They were the ones responsible for the fall of the ruler of the Chaos Era and the birth of the Primordial Era.

Logically speaking, if there was any existence capable of matching up against the mysterious Sapientia, it would be them. It was impossible that they wouldn’t have laid out plans of their own even if they weren’t as clear on the danger of the Sapientia as Dyon.

But now, Dyon had become a stumbling block on their path ahead. If before, Godefray was still uncertain about whether the Nameless Immortal God was an enemy, he felt it was all but absolute now… All because Dyon disdained to explain.

That said, whether or not it really was just petty arrogance this time, or whether Dyon had plans of his own…. Only time would tell.

Dyon’s uproarious laughter pierced through the skies like a pillar, seven magnificent vajra bodies appearing in the skies above him.

Streaks of golden lightning converged to cover his body in a blinding, resplendent armor. A flame of white and one of black fused with the armor, making the lightning crackle like the booms of thunderous clouds.

A crown descended from the skies, planting itself firmly on Dyon’s head. It glistened with jewels of inconceivable value, shimmering with light no less beautiful than the armor that coated his body.

At the same moment, Dyon’s weapon’s pagoda awakened, roaring almost as though it was a beast itself. Its doors flashed opened, causing numerous pieces of illusory armor to fly forward, fusing into Dyon’s body.

Finally, Dyon’s lofty humanoid vajra body appeared, causing the skies and earth to quake. A singular eye flashed, fusing with its forehead.

The moment this eye opened, it seemed like the world might collapse.

“You should feel honored.” Dyon’s gaze blazed with fighting intent. “It has been too many years since I’ve gone all out. At the end of my first life, no one was worthy of seeing me in such a state. Today, I’ll show you the might of One Above All.”

Atkin, Ysabell and Godefray were suddenly pulled onto Dyon’s island. They felt that at that moment, their bodies had entered a swamp.

“This… This is an Origin Source! How is that possible! How?!”

Dyon smirked. “My body is still too weak to support my true Origin Source, so I thought why not forge a replica. Be at ease, this Origin Source doesn’t have even a single percent of my true Origin Source’s strength. If you can’t fight back now, wouldn’t that be too pitiful?”

Cold sweat marred the backs of the three Ancestors.

Monster. Inhuman monster.

“My Origin Source! I can’t summon it!”

Ysabell’s indignant roar shook the hearts of Atkin and Godefray. Dyon’s smile became no different from the icy depths of hell to them.

‘I wonder… How long will those bastards be able to hold out…’

These were Dyon’s thoughts before he jumped into battle. However, if one looked at how absentminded his gaze had been, the ‘bastards’ he referred to weren’t the three Ancestors before him at all.

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