Rebirth of the Nameless Immortal God

Iris' red crystal armor seemed to screech. Her very movements were reminiscent of nails scratching across chalk boards.

Both of her eyes had become an abyss of dark red as blood seeped from them. Whatever it is she was doing, was at a massive detriment to herself. But, she no longer cared.

In the distance, in the same section as the Ragnor and Cavositas, the Matriarch of the Ipsum auxiliary clan shook violently. She knew all too well what this technique was.

There was a reason Iris, despite being such a genius, only knew a single will. Red crystal will wasn't natural. It was fostered through blood sacrifice and often required rituals of untold pain to advance in. That said, in exchange for that, you were able to grasp a will that was infinitesimally close to being a supreme law.

But, that was only the case while it was still at the level of a will. When this will stepped into the level of an intent… It underwent a conformational change.

As a created will, red crystal will worked much like a technique. It had steps of mastery that provided better rewards. Unlike natural wills that often only improved in power output, red crystals changed their fundamental nature.

Unfortunately for Iris, that wasn't what was occurring for her. She had artificially boosted her will to an intent by using a sacrificial technique. As such, she gained the power boost associated, but, none of the fundamental nature change.

Dyon's two pairs of wings flapped in the skies as he looked down on Iris' still falling figure. His shirt had burst apart, revealing his bandaged sides, but he had grown used to ignoring that searing pain inside of him. After taking Madeleine's virginity, the pain at his side has severely lessened due to the increase in his body cultivation. But, it seemed a full heal would only be possible if he broke into the Saint body level. Something that was very much impossible for now.

"I'm glad you've decided to go all out." Dyon's voice penetrated through the screeches, seemingly effortlessly.

In the Sapientia box, Ester snapped her head up. After centuries of working with music will, how could she not tell what was going on. "Intent level music…"

"This way," Dyon continued, "I'll hear less excuses."

Iris didn't seem to be in a healthy state of mind. The bleeding from her eyes only increased as time passed and her crystal armor was beginning to crack and her demeanor was crumbling under Dyon's powerful voice. But, the staff she held in her hand seemed to be glowing more and more feverishly.

"Act 1. Stage 3. Demon Emperor's Will. Perfection."

The veins of gold raged through Dyon's body, his muscles increasing a size before condensing. His skin seared red as the beating of his heart grew so robust that it could be heard by everyone in attendance.

The eyes of Patriarch Pakal narrowed. "That technique… Caedlum."

"Yes, father?"

"Did you say you knew this boy?"

"Yes."

"I believe you said you owed him? Did you give him one of our techniques as compensation?"

"Of course not. My life was never in any real danger because I didn't enter the legacy tower along with the others. I was trying to learn demonic will because it was a good opportunity. Unfortunately, I failed. That said, it is because of him we found the whereabouts of the blood sacrifice technique."

The brows of the Patriarch furrowed. 'Am I wrong?...'

Dyon stood like a Devilish King in the air. In response to the technique, his hair had grown out wildly, whipping about viciously in the wind.

First level wills began to spin around him. Sword will. Space will. Time will. Wind will. Celestial will. Demonic will.

Black and silver clashed.

The arena beneath Iris' feet burst under her, sending tears through the earth as her weight multiplied again and again.

Her screeches increased in protest. The pace of the accumulating red light quickened, sending an eerie feeling through the stadium.

Sword, wind, celestial and space will wrapped around Dyon's arm, spinning viciously as he flashed forward.

The impact of the flap of his wings was unprecedented. A crater spanning hundreds of meters appeared below his feet, creating an abyss that one could barely see the end of.

In an instant, Dyon appeared in front of the screeching witch as her staff screamed toward him.

Dyon's fist ripped through the air, shattering the crystal that held Iris' accumulated power.

A stream of blood coated the surroundings as Iris cried out in agony.

Matriarch Ipsum stood violently. "Impossible!"

Dyon's fist, though, didn't seem intent on stopping. It careened toward Iris' torso, tearing through her red crystal armor.

Iris flew backward, her ribs cracking once again.

"You know." Dyon spoke, his eyes flashing causing a brilliant purple gold defensive array to abruptly stop Iris' momentum as his will coated fist slammed into her again. "I find it funny when you nobles think your lives are the only ones that matter."

Dyon's defensive array shattered against the strength of his fist, but another appeared just as quickly, catching Iris' momentum yet again.

"Because I seem to remember," Dyon's fist pummeled into Iris' once delicate face, "my life being threatened by eleven of you so-called nobles."

Dyon's gravity will slammed Iris downward, landing her squarely on his viscious kick.

Queen Acacia cringed even as she giggled. "It seems it's not too good to make our son in law angry, no husband?"

King Acacia's lip twitched, but he didn't respond.

"In my estimation." Dyon's wings flapped, catching him up to Iris' flying figure in an instant. "You're all quite lucky I only killed one of you."

Dyon's body rotated as he flexed his torso to the extreme. His heel jetted forward, graced by wind will that increased even as he spun faster.

First level. Fourth level. Ninth Level.

A sickening crack reverberated through the arena as Dyon's foot nearly caved Iris' skull inward.

Her body flew downward so quickly that a dense fire began coating her.

But, it didn't seem like Dyon had had enough. His body flashed forward before he coat Iris by her throat.

"Stop! You've won!" Matriarch Ipsum sent a message directly to Dyon. She couldn't afford to anger Patriarch Ragnor, so this was her only option.

"And then you want to talk about how it's my fault you aren't in the top ten." Dyon didn't seem to hear anything. "You're at least 40 years old. Maybe even 50. You think after all those accumulated campaign years that a single year is the reason you aren't in the top ten?" Dyon's grip tightened on Iris' throat as her nearly lifeless body hung in the air.

The crowd didn't even properly register what they were seeing. Was this real?

Dyon's eyes flashed with gold as an array wrapped around Iris' neck and lifted her into the air. Then, with another flashed, the arena was completely fixed. It was as though nothing had happened.

An annoyed look appeared on Dyon's face as he suddenly noticed he had hair in his eyes.

"How annoying." With a single sweep of his sword will, his hair was once again as short as it had been.

"You." Dyon pointed out and into the crowd as he picked up his sword.

Everyone looked around confused. What did he mean 'You'.

But, that was when a sudden realization hit them all… Dyon wanted to continue challenging…

Elder Den's face twitched. What was he supposed to do about this?

The monitors flickered. The Cowardly Demon's name shot upward.

The Cowardly Demon – 2pts