There was not a single pair of eyes not trained on Dyon. Whether they understood just what it meant for him to have mastery over such a will or not was irrelevant, the very feeling he was giving off was enough for the hearts of the masses to be moved in a way they had never felt before.
Supreme Laws were known as such not just for their power, but for their necessity. The world itself couldn’t function without them, and yet, that didn’t mean that some weren’t still superior to others. And how many could possibly be superior to death itself.
The universe trembled in agitation, groaning in complaint. The only place that Dyon had used this form was within the Epistemic Tower – an isolated world. Even he hadn’t been aware of what his power would do within the real world.
He suddenly felt unprecedented control over the stream and flow of things. He felt as though he had comprehended one portion of a cycle, and yet just that small portion was so vast and all consuming that he felt unstoppable.
He felt everyone’s vulnerability. His Mathilde family technique suddenly upped its level of lethality, no longer just helping him see through techniques, but now also helping see how to most efficiently kill the one he was using it on.
Everything around him seemed to erode, even to the point of the strain on his own body being constantly fought against decaying in an instant. But, Dyon knew he could hold such a thing off for quite a while. Whether it be the purity of his energy cultivation, or the power of his soul, both helped him greatly in this aspect.
Ulu trembled looking at Dyon’s transformation. With her sensory type abilities, how could she not understand the increase in Dyon’s power? Not to mention the fact that their seal had failed! That was impossible unless his soul had been comparable to her own grandmothers!
Matriarch Lebna could only sigh. She had known that this was had a large chance of happening as soon as she noticed that even she had the inability to see through Dyon’s soul cultivation. However, what could they do now? Even when she had warned Zabia, he was inconsolable. He wouldn’t listen to reason. In fact, the look he had had in his eyes had scared even her.
She treated Zabia like a grandson, but in reality, he had the power and cache in their clan to command for even her death. However, today was the very first day that she had ever felt that if she pushed him too far, he really might use that power.
Dyon’s scythe twirled across his palm as he felt his power steadily rise. Controlling a supreme law didn’t end at just the will itself, but it gave you a fundamental boost in all aspect by connecting you to the true nature of things. Dyon’s body suddenly felt one with world, a state completely impossible to reach with any less than will. A state that should only be possible once a will reached an 8th level intent!
With a single step forward, Dyon was instantly before Zabia’s angered figure. In reality, Zabia was nearly a meter taller than him. And yet, he felt so very small. He was but a leaf in a stream controlled by Dyon.
Zabia’s eyes flashed. Dyon’s one weakness had been his lack of cultivation, which gave him a severe speed and reaction disadvantage. He had been forced to constantly calculate tens of steps ahead of his opponents in order to maintain a semblance of competition. And yet, all of that had changed.
Dyon’s space will reached a new level, making use of his one with world state, he could use his space will to step through the void, something that would only be possible before had it been an intent or had it been the supreme law of void itself!
Ripples of darkness emanated from Dyon’s bare feet as they slowly touched down. His movements were slow and deliberate, and yet Zabia couldn’t make a single move.
A scythe screaming with death swung downwards, lofty and unblemished by the world. Its will was absolute. There was nothing could escape it.
“AAGGHH.” Zabia’s left arm was completely cut away from his body, flying off in a gush of endless blood even as he violently retreated.
And yet, even as he did so, his cries of agony only rang out again as his right leg was sliced away.
The crowd watched in horror as the systematic dismantling of a top 3 ranker took place directly before them. Was such a competition truly meant to be so easy?
Zabia’s efforts at retaliation never reached Dyon. The ripples in space and time that set up his sword formation were completely sheered apart and eroded away by Dyon’s sword will. His attempts at hand to hand combat were met with a blade and shining blackness, ending only in endless agony.
Blood poured from Zabia’s body. But, he refused to give in. He constantly climbed back to his one leg, propping himself up be his single arm, even as fogs of black spilled from his wounds along with his blood.
His once dark and flawless still looked sickly. It began to flake and fall off with his every struggle. His black hair greyed, then whitened – with every passing moment, the domineering effects of death were taking their toll.
Ulu had become hysterical. Screaming out with tears streaming down her face as she was held back. She squirmed and pleaded, but her cries fell on deaf ears.
Dyon’s face was deadpan. His skin had paled to such an extent that it had lost its tanned and healthy color, but he was so lost in his feeling of power that he had yet to notice the price he was paying.
The celestial experts couldn’t stop trembling. The shock they were being given by just this one boy was too much. Just how could a child with less than three years of experience in the martial world reach this level?!
“Good.” Zabia roared madly as he lifted himself up again. “Good! I’ll play with you to the end!”
A wild burst of aura erupted from Zabia’s body. Flames of white danced around him, sparking and flaring to new heights with every passing moment.
“NO!” Ulu shrieked, her voice straining so much that her throat sheered against the force of her voice. Blood flew from her mouth before she passed out. Her psyche could no longer handle what was happening. This wasn’t how it was meant to go. They were meant to be the King and Queen of their generation, moving their clans forward to a new level of prosperity.
It wasn’t meant to go like this… It couldn’t go like this…
King Belmont frowned as he watched the pure white flames rage around Zabia.
In the martial world, there were plenty of techniques capable of enhancing your abilities for an instant, but some came with more of a toll than others depending on the quality and the power provided by the technique.
However, there were two techniques anyone could use should they be willing to do so. These techniques gave a power boost beyond even words capable of explaining such things, and yet the price they cost would be high… It was a price you should only be willing to pay should your life be on the end of its rope.
The first, and milder of the two techniques, was the burning of blood essence. During cultivation, whether deliberately by body cultivation, or not – by simply focusing on energy cultivation – blood essence would increase. Much like the soul, should a person choose to place all of their efforts into energy cultivation, blood essence would slowly lag behind by a few stages, gradually increasing, but at a much slower rate.
Should one want a temporary power boost, it was possible to burn your cultivation in this way, using your blood essence as a catalyst. This would result in a permanent drop in energy cultivation, as well as a severe weakening of the body for an extended period of time. Depending on how much blood essence was burning, one could increase their instantaneous power by as much as an entire stage, giving a first level essence gathering expert, the power of one at the second level and so on.
But… There was a much more severe technique. One that there was nearly no coming back from even if you had the best medicines in the world… One that would put your life on the line itself… And that, was the soul burning technique.
So often people underestimated the power of the soul, but little did they understand just how important it was. The soul was a fundamental connection to the world itself. It was what truly gave mortals the right to forge their place in the world and it was the gift of the heavens to the weak so that they could one day become strong… The idea of burning such a gift away from temporary power was unheard of… And yet, that was what was happening now…
Zabia’s peak essence gathering cultivation tore through the divide, causing clouds to rage in the skies as saint energy rained down upon him.
And yet… It didn’t stop there…
First saint level… Second… Third… Fourth…
The crowd watched in shock as Zabia’s cultivation continued to climb, seemingly without pause.
“You want to show me death? I gladly accept! But before I step away from this world, I’ll show you the pride of my Jafari Clan!” Zabia roared into the air.
Suddenly, sparkles of silver and black overwhelmed the black fog that leaked from his wounds. And then, before the eyes of everyone… His limbs grew back!
No… That’s not what happened… Time reversed on his wounds… It was almost as though they had never happened to begin with!
This was the price necessary to use time will as a supreme law. This was the price detailed and explained in the Jafari legacies. For the power to control the universe as you saw fit, to bend it to your will and see what you want done, done… The cost was your life!
All of this time, Zabia had been using a technique that was already heaven defying. By restricting his time will to an infinitesimally small distance above his skin, he could control the time for him and him alone. He could extend this principal to his swords as well, controlling just the time flow of them as objects. With this loophole, he was able to use time will to the capacity of a supreme law within that finite space.
That was how he was able to sneak up on Dyon in an instant and why Dyon was being cut by swords that were seemingly appearing from nowhere! The swords and Zabia had both been in the future while Dyon was still in the present! How could you possibly react to something not within your timespan?
The problem with this technique was that it was a ridiculous stamina drain. In addition to this, the more Zabia used it, the more damage his soul took. In a short battle, he could slowly heal himself over the course of a few weeks. But, in one as long as the one he fought with Dyon, he found himself struggling more and more as his stamina and soul depleted.
Seeing that his technique was no longer working, Zabia made a decision. As a man, he refused to not have the capability of protecting his own family. He hated himself for not having been there for Ulu when all of this had happened. And for what? To go on a bullshit mission he hadn’t even really done anything during anyway? For the sake of increasing the power of a clan for what? For the future? What future was there if he couldn’t protect it?
Zabia roared madly into the air as a heavy sword weighing hundreds of kilograms appeared in his hand. It was without a doubt a transcendent weapon. However, the aura it gave off being flooded with endless saint energy was something that Dyon had never been able to match.
Fifth saint level…. Sixth….
“Die!” Zabia’s figure disappeared completely. He was within a stream of time completely separate from everything, and yet his range had increased to such an extent that Dyon felt his reaction time significantly slow. Even the erosion ability of his death qi came to a full stop.
If time couldn’t progress… How could there be any death?!
And then, the piercing sound of shattering bone rang through the arena.
Clara raised a shaking hand to mouth, tears falling without end. Ri’s bestial roar shook the arena, her kitsune form bursting forth as all she saw was white. Madeleine paled, unable to move…
Dyon stood in the middle of the arena, his eyes slightly widened as he slowly looked down.
In his chest lay a massive sword.
Zabia looked into Dyon’s eyes cruelly, pulling his sword out to reveal a hole so massive that it shouldn’t be possible for any meridian formation expert to survive.
And yet, he didn’t feel happy. All he could hear were the wails of his wife as he fell to a single knee.
The soul burning technique should have lasted much longer than this, but what he had done with his time will was too heaven defying. All of the power he had gotten was used in an instant…
He had sacrificed for power once, and that had ended up with his wife’s chances at having a child being shattered right before him. And then, at the end of his life, he had done it again… How laughable.
In all his anger and rage, he had insisted he was protecting his family, and yet now that he would dead, who would do so now? Would the fate of his wife and children change? What exactly had he accomplished in killing the only person he knew could cure her?
Kawa Acacia sped out from the Belmont skybox, intercepting her daughter and disappearing in space before anyone noticed her. She held Ri’s head tightly against her chest as she shook violently.
Ri’s screams filled the space, sounding completely inhuman. She pushed and scratched and clawed, but how could her cultivation be a match for Kawa’s?
The crowd was stunned. They had no idea what had just happened.
In previous matches, it was very much possible for celestial experts to intervene. In a battle of such weak warriors, in their airs, it was as simple as waving a hand to interfere. And yet, in that instant, the battle had far surpassed that of the younger generation.
Dyon was using a supreme law! A will on the level of which none of them had managed to even remotely breach. It was a level of will that gave the Uidah an unprecedented advantage over them during each and every campaign, and that was without sending out their best!
Even worse, Dyon death will with without a doubt at the ninth level. The Uidah at most had ethereal permeation at the 3rd to 5th level. Just what kind of concept was it to have a supreme law at the peak will level? That was the equivalent of having an elemental will at the 8th intent level! It gave you access to one with world, something even they hadn’t touched as experts.
It was at that point that there was little doubt in anyone’s mind that Dyon was number one. It was simply impossible for any other members of the younger generation to match him. His power was too outstanding and his star shone too brightly. He was unmatched!
The thoughts of the crowd flashed back to their very interaction with this young man. They remembered the chorus of boos they had greeted with him and how unperturbed his confident smile had been as he swept two otherworldly beauties into his arms without a care for the world.
Number One in the World, he had said… The Demon Sage AKA Dyon Sacharro…
That name was burned into their memories. A genius that had died too early…
And yet, through all of this… Through all of this power… Yet another genius had willingly given up his life to kill him!
Zabia had used the sacrifice of his life in order to deal a fatal blow to Dyon. A fatal blow that utilized time will to a scale that shouldn’t have been possible for any expert in the world… A skill so heaven defying that it had made the supreme law of death look like little more than child’s play.
On a battle of that scale, even the celestial experts couldn’t intervene. It had reached a level where even their thousands of years of cultivation meant absolutely nothing in the face of these children!
Zabia slumped to the ground, panting heavily as he held onto his heavy sword with the last of his power. His hair had whitened, first because of Dyon’s death will, but then because of his own sacrifices. He battled hard, trying to keep his soul from dissipating, hoping against hope that maybe he had cut himself off from the power in time to salvage the last bits of his life… And yet, with every breath, his life seemed to slip further and further away from himself.
King Acacia looked down at the arena, his face such a harsh shade of red that everyone around him was afraid to say a single word. ‘Didn’t I say that I’d bring you back from the dead just to kill you again if you made my daughter a widow?!’
In the Ragnor and Cavositas section, Patriarch Ragnor insincerely shook his head, “Such a shame. For a genius to die so young.”
Suddenly he paused, a message entering his ears, ‘Now huh?… This is actually quite a good time. But, to think the diligent Elder Daiyu would make such a big mistake. It seems to me that you’ve gotten senile in your old age.’
There was no response as communication was cut off completely.
Patriarch Ragnor’s blue eyes flashed. It was finally time. It wasn’t ideal… But when were things like this ever?
On the arena floor, all pairs of eyes still rested on a handsome young man who remained standing tall. His scythe remained firmly planted on the ground even as blood dripped from the gaping hole in his chest…
The last pieces of his heart were still visible, but it had also very clearly stopped beating completely.
His inner organs had been smashed to oblivion. The very fact he could remain standing was a testament to the arrogance that seeped into his very bones.
Even in death. He was still Dyon Sacharro.