Rebirth of the Nameless Immortal God

Back then, she had turned to Abraxus with a lofty air, sticking her nose into the air and demanding to be accepted as a disciple. How dare he pick someone who couldn't even defeat her? How was Dyon worthy of a position she couldn't be accepted into?

Not only did she demand this, but she also demanded that her First Brother be expelled from Abraxus' disciples. How could someone so much weaker than her possibly have the right to be her senior? If it came down to being Abraxus' second disciple, she would rather not be a disciple at all.

She still remembered what happened that day clearly. It was so clear in her mind that it might as well be passing her by where she stood currently.

She still remembered the indifference on Dyon's face when he stood from his beating. That calm, callous cold that radiated from his gaze. It almost felt as though he had been watching someone else suffer the punishment he had rather than it being him.

Without a word, he had walked forward and attacked her again. Even as he got beat down again and again, he didn't seem to realize that it was him suffering the pain and torture at all.

At first, Aritzia thought that it was just false male pride. She thought Dyon couldn't stand losing to a woman so he kept coming at her for this very reason.

However, the more he looked into his indifferent eyes, the more she understood that Dyon didn't even look at her like a person. For those moments, she was his whole world, but not in the sense that he was in love with her. He simply saw her as a mountain to climb over. Despite her defeating him, she was nothing more substantial than a long path to walk or a tall peak to reach.

It was never nothing more.

Aritzia had long since forgotten how long it took Dyon to defeat her that time. All those memories had boiled down to those cold, indifferent eyes. Those eyes had grasped her heart, making her feel as though if she ever were to be with a man, maybe only he could be worthy of her.

It was likely that the events of those days had left a mark on her heart. She knew how much stronger she had been than her First Brother, yet he still somehow managed to defeat her in the end. When it was all said and done, it was her who no longer had the strength to rise up after she was knocked down.

Since then, she had tempered her will many times over. In fact, it was due to this that she was eventually chosen as Abraxus' second disciple. Back then, she had returned to the Sapientia Clan to temper herself and when she came back, she was no longer the weak willed girl she was in the past. But…

When she saw Dyon's gaze just when her palm was about to shatter his skull, she felt her heart tremble once more.

He seemed to peer into her soul as though she was stripped naked before him. A frigid wind snaked up her spine, fraying her nerves as though she had been electrocuted.

However, her Dao Heart wasn't so easy to move. This time, when her gaze regained its firmness, she said her last goodbyes to her First Brother.

'You were a great man, but you gave up your power for fleeting matters… I'll erect your tomb in the holy land I create with my own two hands… rest in peace.'

BANG!

Dyon's head burst into a rain of blood. His nose, his eyes and the front of his skull completely shattered.

His body was sent flying without suspense.

He tore through the wind so quickly that the tough skin on his back was sliced apart.

By the time he landed on the ground, his body seemed completely boneless as though not a single part of his skeleton remained intact.

"That's impossible…"

Aritzia stood frozen, looking at her palm.

She could feel it. That palm strike of hers should have been enough to blast Dyon's skull into a rain of blood and gore. With how much strength she put behind it, it should have been absolutely impossible for it to remain as intact as it was.

In truth, Dyon's skull couldn't be described as 'intact' by any stretch of the imagination. His entire face was devastated as though someone had taken a saw to it, slicing off everything from his forehead to the very edges of his eyes.

At that moment, a subtle pull of qi came from the surroundings, entering Dyon's land of black and grey and surging into him, slowly repairing his face. It was only then that Aritzia's expression changed.

Dyon coughed violently. Though his face had been partially repaired, his sorry state didn't seem to become much better. He could only weakly stand, his knees feeling weak.

However, what he could say was that he had repaired his eyes, just enough to look back toward Aritzia with the very same indifferent expression. The same callous look, the kind that saw her as something no different from a pebble for him to step over.

Aritzia now understood something. The reason she hadn't seen this indifferent look on his face before was because she still held a place in his heart.

That day, when she treated her no differently than a road to travel, he hadn't known her, so he could remain indifferent.

When this battle began, he couldn't enter that mind state. This was his little sister, his Junior Disciple Sister, a woman he had grown up alongside. The love he had for her, even if it wasn't the kind needed to take her as his wife, it was still the kind of love a brother would have for a sibling.

She was supposed to be under his protection. He was supposed to be willing to fight the world for daring to make her cry. This was his responsibility as the First Brother.

Those feelings, those emotions… even for the Nameless Immortal God… they weren't so easy to dispel.

He was so powerful to this day not because he was callous, but because he loved too much.

It was the ultimate irony. The Heavens created him to be the ultimate evil, but he grew to be something completely different. Maybe he couldn't be said to be an absolute force of good. He knew quite well that only his lovely wife was worthy of such a title. But, what was clear was that he wasn't what the Heavens thought he would be.

Dyon straightened his back, his hazel green eyes as calm as the stillest lake.

He could never respect the actions of the Sapientia. He spent his whole life swimming against the tide the fates decided for him… today wasn't the day he would fall victim to that tide.

Aritzia's heart trembled. She knew then that her last attack had shattered whatever lingering attachments her First Brother had for her.

She didn't realize until this point that she had hoped to never see that gaze of his again. She didn't realize that she had tried to kill him with a single strike so she never had to deal with the repercussions.

It had been so easy for her to cut off the last bit of attachments she had toward him… So why was it so hard for her to face him doing the same?

"As I said before…" Dyon said indifferently. "… I never thought of defeating you with my strength. As dissimilar we are, we are also similar in another respect. I don't have to win using my fists either. So, I'll ask you again… you still haven't realized the situation you're in?"

Aritzia's expression flickered with confusion.

After a moment, she began to observe her Origin Source around her. At first, she didn't see anything wrong. But, a moment later, her expression changed wildly.

"You…!"

Aritzia's gaze changed, looking back toward the land of black beneath Dyon's feet.

"Miss Sapientia. When I called myself the One Above All, did you think this was a joke?"

Aritzia's delicate figure trembled when she heard Dyon's form of address. To him, she was nothing but the figurehead of his enemies. He had no room for leniency any longer. They might as well have not had a history at all because it changed absolutely nothing.

She had never been one of his wives and would never be.

Dyon took a step forward, causing another surge of qi to spiral toward him. The world listened to his call. Winds formed and began to howl. Flames descended from the skies and lightning sparked from nothing. He seemed to embody chaos in all its baser and greater senses, standing loftily above all there was.

His heart shone resplendently, unblemished and unbothered, its steady rhythm echoing out into the world and guiding its violent principles.

"When you decided to go against me… the only possibility for you became defeat."