Rebirth of the Nameless Immortal God

When Dyon’s master tried to ask him why he was so angered, Dyon recollected himself and hurriedly avoided the topic. He didn’t want his master to feel bad for what he went through. There was no need to bother her with it.

As Dyon was trying to weasel his way out of his Master’s questioning, the twins came back. Since there were no longer any fail safes to speak of because of the fact the formation core destroyed them, there was nothing to worry about anymore.

To avoid problems, Dyon directly used the tower spirit to cleanse the soul slaves of their suicide arrays. In case anything went wrong with the final three teleportations, at least these few would be safe.

‘The moment anyone else teleports in, cleanse them.’ Dyon said to the tower spirit.

Dyon took a deep breath. ‘The distance shouldn’t matter… I’ll go back to Planet Cathedral now.’

The more Dyon thought about what happened, the more his anger boiled.

‘Master, can you make something for me?’ Dyon suddenly asked.

‘Hmph, not until you tell me what happened.’

Dyon felt a headache coming on, but in the end, he sighed and agreed to let his master watch what happened using the tower. He couldn’t bring himself to explain.

‘This… These bastards! To think the Soul Rending Peak sect has fallen so far! If I wasn’t a mere spirit I’d eradicate them all!’

The 25th White Mother fell into a fit of rage that somehow made Dyon feel much better. His master was too adorable for her frown to look menacing.

It was only after a rain of curses that Dyon’s master finally asked him what he wanted.

Dyon grinned. ‘I’m going into battle. I need my sweatpants.’

**

Dyon arrived at the outskirts of Soul Rending Peak quickly. Although a comet level array was needed to guarantee travel anywhere in a given universe, they were normally reserved for teleportating to another galaxy apart from your own. For teleportation within a galaxy, or namely, within a solar system, like Dyon needed, a grandmaster, or even master, level array is good enough.

To arrive here, Dyon used a red plaque inscribed with a grandmaster level array Clara drew for him. After all, the formation core Elder Bowa used shattered all of the arrays in the vicinity, including the smaller scale array.

Obviously, Dyon couldn’t use the larger scale array the soul slaves were using because that would teleport him into a den of enemies.

Dyon didn’t bother to hide his presence, he directly walked through the forest as though he was on a leisurely stroll.

His torso was bare, showing off his rippling and power filled core. The tattoo on his back was vibrant and full of life, shimmering with whites, blacks and golds. However, despite his imposing aura, he wore simple black sweatpants, rolled up his calves. He didn’t even bother with his flip flops, choosing to walk bare foot with his hands in his pockets.

It wasn’t long before Dyon made it to the gates of Soul Rending Peak, however, there weren’t any guards, so he simply walked in.

The moment he stepped foot into the sect, his blood boiled as the sound of his heartbeat involuntarily boomed out from his chest.

Dyon’s tan skin reddened even as the veins that coursed through him began to shine with a gold sheen.

Then, something that had only happened to Dyon twice before occurred.

The first time, he was blinded by rage, facing Ava’s rapist and the shamelessness of the Big Sect families. However, there was also a helplessness… That was the day he knew he had to let Madeleine go because he was too weak to handle the anger of the Sapientia family…

The second time, was an event he would never forget. He came back from a fight to find that Ri had nearly been crippled. Confronted with the possibility that she might never give birth to a child they could call their own, he saw red.

This time, Dyon failed to control himself once more. The small percentage of Demon Qilin blood essence within him lost control, causing crystal covered black scales to phase in and out of existence on his skin.

The blood of Dyon’s martial uncle rarely showed itself, but when it did, it was certain that Dyon had lost control of his temper.

Unlike many other paths, the demonic path was almost solely driven by emotion. The Demon Qilins were a special race of qilin that followed the path of rage. Strength for this race didn’t only rely on technique and cultivation, but also anger.

The bloodline technique that Dyon had only involuntarily stepped into twice before was known as Blood Rage and was exactly an example of a bloodline manipulation technique Dyon’s master referred to before.

The more Dyon sunk into his rage, the more he followed the path of anger and revenge, the more strength he would be fueled with. Eventually…. Nothing would be able to stand in his path.

Dyon’s every step caused the ground beneath his feet to tremble. The ground cracked and shattered, forcing the ancient buildings of the outer sect to crumble where they stood.

The commotion was not small. Soul Rending Peak never had any guards because who would dare to attack them? Even beasts didn’t have the guts. Yet, someone had strutted in and started such destruction? Who had such guts?

​

No one dared to stop Dyon’s forward momentum. Although Dyon hadn’t fought on that faithful day, they all saw the video of him knocking away the previous first ranked core disciple with such ease.

Even the half the crowd that had been outspoken about what Dyon’s punishment should be said absolutely nothing. After all, they were cowards. Without the backing of the sect elders, they didn’t dare to say anything to Dyon.

As for those on that day that were smart enough to understand that not everything was so simple, they were thrown into a fit of confusion. How did Dyon come back? Or, more importantly, was he really back for revenge? It had only been a week or so since that day, what the hell happened? It was impossible for someone to get powerful enough to change anything in that short amount of time. That meant if Dyon had to power to now, he should have had the power to then. So why did he allow what happened to happen?

By the time Dyon made it to the barrier bridge connecting the outer sect to the inner sect, it could be considered that the entire population of the outer sect had made their way to his back. Even the guards to the inner sect didn’t dare put on the airs of the Punishment Faction, directly moving out of Dyon’s way as well.

His aura… It was simply far too dangerous…

When Dyon’s foot landed on the bridge, it completely shattered, unable to withstand his steps.

In the past, this would have been impossible. How could such a high-ranking sect possibly have such a feeble bridge? However, after the war, many things in the sect had to be rebuilt, including this bridge.

Despite the bridge collapsing, though, Dyon’s foot didn’t slip even an inch downward. It was only at that moment that everyone noticed that this entire time, Dyon’s feet had never touched the ground!

With simple flicks of his ankle, he seemed to be able to send tens of thousands of jin of force downward, causing the ground, and now even the air, to shatter.

Dyon’s [Whipping Wing, Galloping Steps] had been pushed to yet another level. The first variation didn’t have enough flexibility because the movement of slamming your foot downward was far to exaggerated. So, Dyon changed it again. The first aspect of the technique was an induced cognitive dissonance, and the second? It concentrated the power of the technique into his ankles, hardly requiring the movement of his knees and hips.

In an instant, Dyon had glided across the chasm leading to the inner sect.

“What kind of movement technique is that?” The breathing of the outer sect disciples grew heavy, even the elders couldn’t help but rub their eyes, double and triple checking their senses.

“That has to be a legendary earth level technique, no?” A younger disciple gasped.

“Maybe it’s even of the heaven level!”