Rebirth of the Nameless Immortal God

"Your hide sure is tough. Take one of these for me… [Bloody Guillotine]." The skies turned red. The illusion of an execution blade coated in dried blood flickered in the skies as Dyon's leg descended upon Yadmere's cheek. BOOM!

The sound was more resounding than even Estein's slap to the face. Yadmere felt the foundations of his teeth quake, knocking several almost completely loose. His enraged roar caused the ears of many to bleed, however Dyon had already flickered away by the time he retaliated, appearing before Estein with a fervent desire for battle. [A Winter's Last Snowfall] circulated once more, his sword separating into countless illusory and real images that forced the Ancestor to his backfoot. Innumerable calculations circulated in Estein's mind, his continuously predicted the trajectories of Dyon's assaults and accurately dodged or parried them with a palm. But he still felt this weighing feeling on his heart, as though he was continuously being pushed into a corner. The battlefield had suddenly become a celestial chess board. Dyon's moves held an oppressive domineeringness to them. While Estein would take his time to decide on his next move, Dyon would respond without hesitation, as though on instinct. It was only the Sapientia below that understood what was happening. Those Sapientia heiresses below who had been indignant on Aritzia's behalf felt completely stifled. "This is impossible… His mind is several steps ahead of Ancestor Scholar…!"

No matter how much they hated Dyon, they knew that any man who gained Aritzia's acknowledgement couldn't be normal. But… This was too exaggerated!

Dyon casually looked over his shoulder. His exchange with Estein had constituted hundreds of attacks, but not even a second had passed. Just when he was getting engrossed, Yadmere made his presence felt once more. However, what was astonishing was that his appearance had completely changed. Or, rather, it was changing. With each passing strike, not only did the wrinkles on his body continuously fade, but his body was compressing in size. 30 meters… 20 meters… 10 meters… Dyon's eyes flashed with a blinding light, immediately understanding what was happening. Others might have techniques that increased their size in order to increase their strength, but Giants were the opposite. When facing smaller opponents, their size was to their detriment. Over years of experimentation, how could they not have their own measures? For every fold Yadmere shrunk, his battle prowess doubled! By the time he was just 2 meters tall, his strength had been raised by almost 16 times! However, Dyon wasn't shaken by this reality. In fact, his smile intensified. His demeanor was so baffling that the two Ancestors felt completely stifled. How could there by a child like this in the world?!

"It seems that I've gone too easy on the two of you." Dyon's figure flickered and dodged as he retreated backward, narrowly escaping several of Yadmere's space rending strikes. Before anyone could under the incredulous nature of Dyon's words, another change took place. Above his head, a halo of gold shimmered into existence. If before, Dyon was reminiscent of an angel, he truly looked no different from one now, come down to pass god's judgement. However, to Dyon, he was the god.

The world practically slowed under Dyon's gaze. Every twitch of the muscle, every qi fluctuation, every plot hidden behind a gaze, was taken in by him in an instant. In one instant he was retreating, but in the next, he slipped between a palm and fist thrown by the two Ancestors, his swordplay evolving to another level. [A Winter's Last Snowfall] circulated once more. Except this time, it carried a myriad of changes impossible to predict. Like a snowflake caught in the whims of a cold breeze, Dyon's sword fell again and again. Ancestor Scholar trembled. 'His Weapon's Master Will entered the 5th Intent level… Why is it still rising?!' [Author's Note: A reminder that the weapon's master will is a bit special. When it was a will, it displayed itself like an intent. Now that it's an intent, it displays itself like a Dao.]

Estein had no way of knowing that Dyon's comprehension abilities had already exceeded the mortal plane. For his current self, comprehending daos was no different that attempting to comprehend a new will or intent. This wasn't to say that it was easy. In fact, Dyon's speed of comprehension still paled in comparison to Lilith who didn't have Immortal Sense – when it came to the sword, anyway. It was rather that he had spent too long not raising his comprehension levels. With the experience he had accumulated over these long decades, he had a solid foundation to burst forth from. Still, even this was just the tip of the iceberg. Dyon realized that the deeper comprehension he had toward [One Above All], the quicker his comprehension of lesser wills became. Dyon faintly understood that in the future, if he focused all of his attention on it, the remainder of his Daos would naturally increase along with it. It already had this level of benefit despite it being only at the 3rd Will Level. Dyon could only imagine the kind of benefits it would have in the future. The pressure on the two Ancestors increased. Even though they hadn't sustained a single injury, the fact they were on their backfoot couldn't be denied. With the restrictions to their speed, this was something everyone below could see. Estein was circulating his abacus dao to its greatest extent, trying to lay out a formula for Dyon's swordplay. But, before he could succeed, Dyon's momentum changed again. [A Spring's Sweet Breeze]. If before his swordplay was erratic and unpredictable, sorrowful, even, it now carried a gentle rhythm that threw the Ancestor Scholar completely off. In just a few moments, his robes suffered several cuts, causing his eyes to redden in fury. How many swordsmen of the past had attempted to emulate the four seasons? There were simply too many to count. But why did was this Dyon's iteration so powerful? Why did it feel as though all others had simply become a joke?