By now, Dyon’s breathing was slightly irregular. Despite his features remaining expressionless, those paying attention would know that he was nearing the end of his rope. He had no choice but to dispel his War God armor and his various techniques.
Without his black flames, he didn’t have the offensive capabilities to threaten high level celestials, but with them, there was a heavy price to pay for their use. Had it not been for this absolutely selfless state, Dyon’s body would have long since imploded. Yet, even with it, the damage using his flames did to his body was astronomical.
If one were to peer into Dyon’s body right now, you’d only see a mess of blood and sheered meat…
Giralda treated Percival as though he was nothing more than air. To her, the only person in the world was the child in her arms. Even the question of who Dyon was meant nothing to her despite their eyes maintaining contact.
Before anyone could react, Dyon extended a finger, causing a red-gold flame to jettison out of him and drill into Giralda’s body.
Those watching were in complete shock. Had he gone through all of this trouble just to kill this woman? What the hell was going on?
Even King Cromwell was confused. Not because he thought Dyon was trying to kill Giralda, but because he recognized those flames as aurora flames… Under normal circumstances, these flames wouldn’t be used to attack since they had lost their aggressive attributes… Which meant that…
An audible snapping noise resounded through the quiet battlefield, and for the first time, the calm Giralda showed some change of expression.
In that moment, a woman who seemed like no more than a mortal suddenly erupted with an ever rising flood of energy.
King Cromwell’s eyes contracted. ‘This woman is a celestial! What is going on?’
A bad premonition overwhelmed the old King. A young lady who could be so powerful at such a young age was definitely not some no-name. Just what had this foolish nephew of his done?!
Not only was Giralda a celestial, she was actually a second-grade celestial. In fact, maybe if that was the end of it, this would be easier to accept. But, this young lady was a second-grade celestial of the high order!
In cultivation, the higher your grade, the larger and more refined the difference between filled meridians became.
As everyone knew, the first grade referred to filling between 100 and 108 meridians. The second grade was a step down, referring to 91 to 99. The third grade was yet another step down, referring to 82 to 90 meridians.
Grades below the third grade had no difference. Whether you fill 73 meridians, or 81 meridians, the difference in your battle prowess was negligible and not worth mentioning. This was why those of the fourth grade had no differentiators. Neither did the fifth or sixth, so on and so forth…
However, when one entered the ranks of the third grade, things changed.
For the third grade, there was one division. Low Order and High Order. Filling between 82 and half of the 86th meridian made you of the low order. There was then a slight water shed moment past that point as you entered the threshold of the high order.
Those of the low order third grade were at a distinct disadvantage in comparison to those of the high order.
Yet, in the second grade, this complexity increased by yet another level. Splitting them into the low, mid and high order!
In addition to this, the differences within the first grade were so large that they were decided by even singular meridians, making someone who had filled 108 meridians significantly more powerful than someone who had only filled 107.
What shocked King Cromwell was that this young lady, someone he had written off as a random concubine his nephew had taken a liking to, was a second grade warrior of the High Order, a mere sliver away from the ranks of the legendary first grade celestial!
‘Genius! Absolute Genius! What did this fool do?!’
Giralda finally looked toward Dyon in shock. This seal hadn’t been placed onto her by Percival. Percival didn’t have the means to do so… Rather, it was a seal she received from her family. She placed this seal on herself in exchange for her husband’s life. It was for this reason that Violet and Marco were still alive.
She was well aware of how powerful this seal was. After all, she knew how powerful her clan was. Yet this young man shattered it with a single finger. Who was he?!
Even if Dyon told her his name, it wouldn’t mean anything to her. After being imprisoned by Percival for more than 200 years, she had little knowledge of the outside world. Other than being a plaything, she hadn’t played any other roles.
Still, because her cultivation was high, despite the seal, having children was difficult. So, in all this time, she had only had one child.
“I’m here to fulfill a promise I made to your husband…” Dyon said slowly, steadying his breathing.
Giralda blinked, her eyes glistening with emotion.
Percival’s fists clenched, but before his anger could erupt, he felt a dense killing intent overwhelm him.
The shocking part was that it wasn’t from Dyon… It was from his own Uncle!
“However… Before I fulfill this promise and leave the world… I need to understand… why…”
Dyon’s eyes shifted around the battlefield. There was something decidedly sad about his gaze, as though he truly believed that these would be the last images he ever saw… as though he wanted to take these last sights in properly…
“Why is it that it made you feel good to take a wife from a husband?… A mother from a child?… Why are you so willing to give way to the evil in your heart?… Why are you so willing to lead the world down a faster path to <u>Chaos</u>?…