Rebirth of the Nameless Immortal God

Dyon's eyes became sharper. Although Clara's primordial yin wasn't much now, as a woman with so good soul talent, even with her energy and body cultivation locked, the energy she provided was the purest of the pure.

He could feel her aurora flames coursing through his body, tapping awake veins of blood that had laid dormant for months before revitalizing the beating of his heart.

And then… The orbs fell.

Dyon and Clara's heart beats stalled, freezing them in time as one clung to the other. Motes of light danced along their skin, filling the room with blinding hues.

It felt like everything within them was rearranging. Confusing and foreign concepts became simple, odd and abstract wills became as easy as breathing, and their bodies… transformed…

It was clear by now just what kind of concept having the accumulated talent of billions for soul cultivation. Unmatched will stamina and comprehension, otherworldly manifestations, and exceedingly domineering intelligence.

But, what did it mean to have the accumulated talent of billions for body cultivation? It meant never having an affinity out of your touch. Never would there be a cultivation technique unsuitable for you. Never would there be will you couldn't learn. The world was opened up… Whether it be the soul or the meridians, both were anchored by the body…

Clara's convulsions finally stopped. She couldn't see Dyon, or even herself clearly because of the lights, but she knew that she had done her part.

She slowly lifted herself off of Dyon, biting her lip as she felt a large mass slide out of her. But, when she tried to get up to leave the room, her legs gave way, causing her to collapse on top of Dyon again.

Frustration began to build. She felt like she had so much energy and she felt better than she ever had before, so why weren't her damn legs working?!

She tried to use her aurora to teleport away, but that was when she realized that changes weren't only occurring in Dyon, they were occurring in herself as well!

Clara could almost feel her silky brunette hair growing longer. In fact, she felt it sliding down spine, well past the small of her back.

The bones in her face shifted ever so slightly, there was barely a change but with Clara's senses, how could she not feel these things happening to her?

Her gorgeous caramel skin grew softer, and her grey eyes grew brighter. She was very much still the beautiful Clara Dyon had called best friend for so many years, but she had grown in elegance and grace, something impossible to put into words.

Clara was already an otherworldly beauty, one rivaling Ri and Madeleine without a doubt. This was something that was gifted to her by her domineering soul talent. It had cleansed her in a way other mortal women just couldn't match.

However, there was something overwhelming about her presence now. Almost as though she was sculpted by the hands of a master… The perfection of a female form only meant to be looked at, but never blasphemed…

Dyon was right, she had gotten more beautiful in these past two years… But this was an entirely different level.

Soon, the lights around Clara faded and she blinked awake to find herself still lying on Dyon. Although her legs were still weak, they had finally recovered enough for her to move, so she lightly pushed off, getting a good look at Dyon.

What she saw, left her in a daze.

Dyon had seemingly lost consciousness. But, Clara didn't mind. The same had happened to her and she was in much better condition that Dyon had been.

His sickly and loose skin had disappeared, replaced by a golden sheen that pumped with vitality. His lean and rippling muscles had come back, coursing with veins of gold that made Clara blush when she realized her small hands were still lying on his chest.

But, what Clara truly couldn't stop looking at was Dyon's handsome face.

It had been two years since she last saw him in full health, and back then, he was still just a teenage boy. He was the most attractive man she had ever seen until she laid eyes on Amell, but nothing could compare to the love she felt for Dyon. However, now that hardly seemed to matter at all.

His face had lost all signs of immaturity. His jaw was strong and even held a faint stubble that made Clara swoon. His nose had a delicate and elegant arch to it and sat perfectly symmetrical at the center as though it was a crowning achievement… But, what Clara couldn't help but want to see were his eyes… Unfortunately, they were closed as his breathing steadied to a comfortable rhythm.

Clara chuckled when she noticed Dyon's full lips were slightly parted with a piece of laced fabric hanging out of them. Her hand caressed his cheek before she pulled it out gently, taking her dress that had fallen to the side along with her.

She moved to slide off of Dyon, looking back one last time before she gave herself a nod of assurance… Even if he didn't accept her, she regretted nothing.

Clara silently slipped her dress on, unwilling to wear these soaked panties of hers and her bra wa even less of an issue. Suddenly, she froze as she felt a strong grip on her arm.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Clara didn't look back, "You want to fight me? I'm not so weak anymore, hmph."

"What I meant was that that was some pretty self pleasing sex. How are you going to use me like a tool then forget about me?"

Clara was so taken aback by that answer and the pitiful sound of Dyon's voice that she burst into laughter. "Leave me alone pervert, I don't know what you're talking about. I simply helped out a friend in need. You're welcome. If you want more, you'll have to get into a queue with all of my other future husband candidates."