Ulu strained her neck to stare down at Dyon’s fingers. She couldn’t believe what had just happened. Did he really not care about the threat of a saint level expert? Why had it ended up like this?

A dull pain throbbed just below Ulu’s belly button. Dyon’s fingers hadn’t pierced her skin, and yet it somehow felt much worse than if he had.

Dyon released Ulu, letting her drop to her knees.

The receptionist trembled in anger. As a man talented enough to become a saint level expert, he too had once ranked highly on the cumulative rankings. He didn’t see himself as any inferior than these so-called geniuses, and yet Dyon had disregarded his existence completely. How could he stand for this?

Taking a deep breath, the receptionist calmed himself. The truth was that he had made a move to stop Ri from attacking initially, but, the young master of the Cavositas God Clan had told him to stop, seemingly knowing that Ri would be ganged up on. And yet, that very same young master had told him stop the proceedings now. The goal was clear: use this moral high ground to teach Dyon a lesson. But… Dyon’s next words were completely unexpected.

“What are you so mad about?” A light smile played Dyon’s features as he turned to walk to he and Ri’s sitting area to pick up his turtle neck and jacket. “I let her go like you wanted me to, didn’t I?”

“Who are you trying to fool? You clearly did something.” The members of Planet Nix raged from behind Dyon’s defensive formations.

“Oh? Did I? Prove it.” Dyon waved his hand, removing the defensive barriers.

The warriors were much too scared to attack Dyon now. They settled for glaring at him before running toward their queen.

The receptionist watched this silently. After he heard Dyon’s response to the situation, he understood exactly how Dyon wanted to end this. If he wanted the moral high-ground, he had to be able to prove that Dyon had done something. But, could he?

There was a reason why Dyon had said there wasn’t a single person in this universe who could help Ulu. He was confident that his array alchemy had touched an unreachable level for those here. Even his soul strength was nearing the best this universe had to offer. Even a peak saint expert might not have a soul strength at the peak of the Essence stage.

In order to help Ulu, you’d not only need to have a soul strength above the Essence stage, you’d also have to be a grandmaster array alchemist. And even then, you’d need to find a way to counter a death infused array. And that was all after detecting and seeing through the concealment array Dyon placed around it. .

Dyon leisurely put on his clothes as the Planet Nix warriors tended to Ulu. The truth was that Dyon could have infused enough death within his array to make it act as a slave seal as he had for Alidor. But, he chose not to for very specific reasons.

For one, if Ulu couldn’t plot against him, then Ri would never have a proper rematch against her. Dyon saw first hand how broken Ri was after this loss. She felt as though it was her duty to win, and yet she had failed. Dyon didn’t want to do this for her, so he had to Ulu the ability to act against him and by proxy, act against Ri. It would be easy to just tell Ri that it wasn’t her fault so many had attacked her at once. But, he knew Ri didn’t need flowery words. She needed goals and motivation.

The second reason would be the evidence. Something like infertility would never be able to be directly tied to Dyon. But, suddenly having to follow Dyon’s every word? That would give the receptionist the exact thing he was looking for to justify his attack.

Sure, Ulu would always know that Dyon was the culprit. But, the important part was that Dyon was working in the same greys as the receptionist. Because Dyon couldn’t prove that the receptionist was being biased, despite how obvious it was, Dyon lost the moral high ground. And, because the receptionist couldn’t detect Dyon’s array, no matter how obvious it was that Dyon had planted one, he would lose moral high ground if he chose to attack Dyon.

It was a simple move. Dyon had adapted to the game the Cavositas God Clan wanted to play perfectly.

However, when Dyon turned to walk out of the exit, he found the receptionist blocking his way.

This was a man of the saint stage, and almost fittingly, he was about a head taller than Dyon. He had black hair and eyes matching that of the Cavositas clan and despite his clear older age, he had a vibrant youth to him that made it feel as though he had hundreds of years left to live.

Dyon smiled. “Something you need?”

“Nothing in particular. Only wondering about a couple disappearances. Two, to be exact.”

“Oh? And what disappearances are those?” .𝒎

The receptionist tilted his head, a clever glint lighting his eyes as though he had seen through Dyon. “One is very important to you. And the other, is quite important to me.”

“Important to me you say?” Dyon chuckled, completely unperturbed by the saint energy emanating off of the receptionist.

“Do you have any real concept of what it means to be a saint?”

“Well. I’d assume to be a saint means having better things to do than being a door man for children and harassing a meridian formation expert, no?”

The brow of the receptionist twitched at Dyon’s subtle dig. But, he kept his composure. “Mm. One would think… But, saint energy itself it quite interesting.”

“Please enlighten me, elder.” A polite smile pasted itself onto Dyon’s features. He was quite interested in finding out just what this man thinks he knows. He mentions two disappearances, and yet now he wants to speak on the prowess of a saint? How did this connect?

This content is taken from 𝘳𝑎.𝗇t