Rebirth of the Nameless Immortal God

The strength of his creation characteristic was reliant on his soul strength. It made sense that his creation ability would be limited to mere augmentation when his soul was so weak. He hadn't made a mistake, he hadn't slipped up… Rather, the truths of the matter evolved quicker than he could take into account.

When his soul reached the peak of the celestial realm, his creation characteristic leaped over a dragon gate in a single bound, reaching levels of prowess he had never felt from them before.

At that moment, Dyon's arm finally lowered, causing a wall of black flame infused sword qi to overwhelm the world.

It seemed as though, for an instant, there was only one thing happening in the entire cosmos. There was only Dyon and his blade while everything else was put on pause.

The attack was impossible to dodge. The lock on space was so fierce that it was likely only a dao formation expert could break through it… The wall of black was so large that it seemed to encompass the whole world… The blaze of heat was so ferocious that the dragon tailed lions who lay incapacitated on the ground, far too close to the battle, began to light on fire, one after the other.

The spectators who already felt that they had been blown far enough away still lost layer after layer of skin. Even the majestic Grand Templar core sect began to redden under the world ending heat.

Bors and Percival did their best, but it didn't seem to matter. They were overwhelmed by an intense sense of evil.

Their attacks meant nothing in the face of the black flame… It felt as though it could devour anything in this world… As though everything that met it could only return to its origin.

If one looked closely, you would just be able to make out that the sturdier the wall of black flames became, the clearer the profound ancient symbols on its body became… However, the moment you did so you would definitely lose your eyesight as staring into this black flame was tens of times worse than fixating your gaze on the sun!

That said… Those who could do so and survive would be shocked beyond belief… Because manifesting profound symbols was a characteristic of daos!

The attacks of Bors and Percival shattered to oblivion.

Bors' attack didn't use real holy will, instead, it used a refine light will. At the same time, Percival's attack used unique flames that didn't even have a single characteristic! What did the worst of purity wills have in the face of absolute evil? What did the weakest of fire wills have in the face of one of the greatest unique flames to ever exist?

They were directly suppressed and could only face death!

However, before they could meet their ends, a third powerful aura descended from the skies… The third King of the Grand Templar Sect had made an appearance.

A valiant older man appeared in the skies above the two Kings.

Unlike the two boisterous young men who wore shining gold armor, he wore simple robes. His white-greyish hair was tied into a single well-kept ponytail, extenuating his blue eyes all the more.

He was none other than King Cromwell, grandfather to Bors, Master of the sect and according to the public, the most powerful expert of the Grand Templar Sect.

However, at this moment, his usual casual, scholarly appearance, wasn't so casual at all. Even he had to take this singular attack of Dyon's as serious as possible.

Dyon's dull eyes pitched in slight surprise when he focused on the extended palm of King Cromwell. His light will… It was very close to evolving!

The idea of will progression wasn't foreign to Dyon. However, it was incredibly difficult to do. For example, celestial will becoming the supreme law version of itself, or time and space will attempting to accomplish the same feat.

However, light will could only evolve to one thing… The greatest purity will in existence: Holy Will!

King Cromwell grunted, striking outward with a full force blow toward Dyon's flames.

A blindingly bright illusory dao array appeared just behind him, spanning almost two meters wide. His momentum climbed, reaching its peak just as his hand met Dyon's attack.

BOOM!

King Cromwell's eyes widened when his palm collided with the black flames. Even when taking it seriously, he had still managed to underestimate it.

The skin of his palm disappeared in an instant, burning to ash even as the muscles beneath followed suit, leaving only white bone.

In a moment of fierce determination, his celestial energy surged into what remained of his hand, pouring outward with all the momentum he could muster to clench a fist.

Still, it didn't matter. The force of Dyon's sword strike was unstoppable. Although King Cromwell was the strongest expert their sect had, he was also of the 6th celestial stage, it was just that his comprehension was deeper and that he was a breath away from the 7th celestial stage.

'Do I really have to?' King Cromwell frowned.

Just when King Cromwell felt that he was being painted into a corner, Dyon's hand reached outward, clenching slightly. In a moment of absolute control, the unstoppable momentum died down, stopping completely.

"I'll say it again." He started, his voice without emotion. "Bring Percival Valore here. Don't push me."

King Cromwell frowned, his gaze inadvertently turning to the boy he saw as his own nephew.

It wasn't until then that Dyon understood that King Percival had been here the whole time. But, that only made him shake his head.

"So stupid. If you were here the entire time, why didn't you say anything? You were so willing to seek death… How could someone like you possibly have the answer I need?..."

Dyon truly couldn't believe the stupidity of this Percival character. Had Dyon been a murderous devil, the Grand Templar Sect would have lost more than half of its fighting power, all because this supposed King wanted to stick his chest out.

Facing the gaze of his Uncle, Percival's head lowered in shame.

"Any technique that alters your mind state is no good." King Cromwell spoke for the first time. His voice was suffused with wisdom, making it impossible to believe that this old man was truly just a middle celestial.

Dyon dull eyes flashed with an odd light as though he had picked up on something, but in the end, decided to leave it alone. He wasn't here for King Cromwell, he was here for Percival.

With the same expressionless gaze, he turned toward Percival. However, King Cromwell hadn't missed the odd look in his eye… He had felt in that moment that Dyon had seen through him completely.

'What a scary young man…'

"Bring Giralda here." Dyon's gaze met Percival's. "Or else I'll unleash this attack once more."

"Giralda?..." Percival was completely baffled. How could all of this have anything to do with her?

'Wait… Dyon Sacharro comes from the Celestial Deer Quadrant who had roots in Soul Rending Quadrant… Could it be?...'

When King Cromwell heard these words, his frown deepened even further. He only had a vague understanding of who this Giralda was. It wasn't until recently that she came on his radar because she had managed to become the second woman to give Percival a son. Of course, such an event was a big deal.

In the end, Percival could only clench his fists and do as Dyon said. Although King Cromwell hid it well, Percival saw very clearly that he had lost an entire hand to Dyon's singular strike. In addition, those black flames still managed to lock down space. If he provoked Dyon, their Grand Templar Sect could lose a middle celestial who was only a step away from becoming a high celestial, they couldn't afford such a loss.

Moments later, Percival brought with him a young woman holding a little boy who couldn't have been more than three or four years old. Giralda wore a sky-blue gown and clearly couldn't fly on her own. If it wasn't for Percival's hand on her shoulder, she would have fallen from the skies.

Still, although she seemed weak and had every right to be confused about what was happening, she had an elegant demeanor no less than what one would expect from a queen.