The light in Jabari’s eyes seemed to dim significantly, however, Dyon didn’t let him fall from the skies. Instead, he grabbed a hold of his thick wrist, letting him dangle from the skies. He didn’t really care to kill Jabari now or not, in fact, he was likely more useful alive.
One might wonder how a man with a blade in his head could be alive, but the truth of the matter is that even a wound like this is possible to be recovered from if you’re a high level body cultivator. It’s just that Jabari won’t have any strength to do anything else for a good long while, which cut the enemies of the Angel Clan down by one second grade warrior, which was a decent return in Dyon’s opinion.
That said, where Dyon truly benefited was the morale boost he just gave the Angel Clan and the shadow he placed over the hearts of the opposing army. His message was clear: ‘If the crown prince of an emperor god clan can’t match up to someone decades younger than him, what chance do you all have?’
Dyon took the spatial ring off of Jabari’s finger, using the flames of the aurora stone to wipe away the soul mark left on it, causing Jabari to cough up blood weakly again.
In the moment, the dao formation experts of the Ahpuch Clan roared in anger, seeking to immediately come out for revenge. Unfortunately for them, the Angel Clan minister had long since locked their auras onto them. If they moved even an inch, this bloody battle would start with them in the middle of it all.
This was, obviously, the last thing those Ahpuch Clan elders wanted. After all, they knew very well that they were no match for the Angel Clan ministers. They wanted to wait until the canon fodder of the Moon Clan tired them all out before they swooped in themselves to deal some damage from time to time. Then, the hidden experts of the mysterious clan would come to clean up the final lingering issues and it would all be over.
But now, the life and death of their crown prince was unknown, the morale of their canon fodder was down the drain, and it was looking more and more like they would have to step in personally.
Dyon let go of Jabari’s wrist before kneeing him in the face. In a smooth parabolic arc, the hulk of a man flew through the air and landed just behind the back line of the Angel Clan army before a mystical formation seemed to appear from thin air to seal him.
The Ahpuch Elders grit their teeth. This was war, could they really bargain for their prince’s life? Even if they could, the only viable gift they could give was the withdrawal of their armies. If it was just the Ahpuch Clan’s plan, that would be no issue. But, with the mysterious clans lurking around, it was impossible for them to take a step back.
Even worse, they knew that they had severe punishments waiting for them when they returned. Every Emperor God Clan treated their legatees like treasures because they were limited in number per generation! If they lost Jabari, that would be a permanent missing legatee in their ranks for at least the next few tens of thousand years.
Dyon had his back turned to the opposing army as though they weren’t there at all, casually checking the spoils of his battle as the youth of the Angel Clan looked up at him in reverie.
With a smile, he flicked Malihcki’s chakrams. The blade was so glistening and sharp that the coating of blood immediately fell to the ground, leaving the weapons as prestine as when Dyon burrowed them.
Tossing them upwards, Dyon caught them on the tips of his finger, balancing them both on one. Malihcki couldn’t help being shocked. He knew, personally, how sharp those weapons were. When he saw how his King intended to catch them, he almost called out to warn him. Who had known that his King had reached such a realm of weapon mastery, to be able to decide what his blade cut and what it didn’t.
After showing off a bit, Dyon threw both chakrams toward Malihcki like Frisbees, causing the young boy to freak out because the speed was too fast. He closed his eyes, waiting for death. He didn’t even blame Dyon. He could only think that if he had reached the same realm of his King, he wouldn’t be so scared right now. It was just his King thought too highly of him.
However, the death he was waiting for never came. Instead, he felt his chakrams silently slip into their rounded holders like they had been there all along.
“Thanks for the help Malihcki.” Dyon said with a smile before he pulled out a massive 10 foot long glaive from Jabari’s spatial ring.
The pole was a deep and reverberating black, etched with endless tattoos that radiated a devilish intent. Just the blade itself made up almost two and a half feet of the length, curved menacingly with a blinding silver metal. It too had etched, but they instead jetted out, patterned with what looked like crystals.
Even with Dyon’s large hands, he could only just barely touch the tips of his fingers while wrapping around it.
He felt a deep resonance with weapon and it seemed to cheer the moment he laid hands on it. If he was going to lose himself in murder today, this was the weapon he wanted to do it with.