Rebirth of the Nameless Immortal God

Dyon's broad sword met the rod of the clone's scythe. However… The clone barely took a half a step back before stabilizing itself. As for Dyon, severe pain racked his arms to the point where he assumed his bones would erupt into dust if even the slightest bit more power was infused into them.

However, Dyon didn't seem too surprised with the result. Even after going all out, the result was a mere half a step back. A normal person might feel despair at this point, and maybe Dyon would be more sane if he did as well. But, he simply didn't.

The clone chuckled, "I did all that, even letting my guard down for you, and that's the best result you could achieve? Isn't that a bit too sad?"

A dense black qi burst forward from the scythe's shaft, corroding Dyon's energy and blackening his skin.

Without waiting for Dyon to respond, the clone swung, blasting him backward.

A flurry of exchanges erupted, if it could even be called that. By the clone's second swing, Dyon was forced into using his broad sword as a shield, hiding behind it as he tried to deflect the power of the blows

"Is this how you fight?" The clone's mocking laughter rang through Dyon ears as he pressed him back, again and again, "Let me tell you a secret. I'm quite disgusted to be impersonating you right now.

"Your fighting style is so crude. All of your techniques are power boosters, yet you have no finesse or skills to properly apply that power, how are you any different from a madly swinging barbarian?

"Oh, how pitiful. Before you could learn anything from your master, she died. And then the last sliver of her consciousness wasted its last bits of energy trying to stop you from turning into a devil."

The seemingly furious swings of Dyon's clone actually had quite a playful air to them, as though he didn't care to end this battle as quickly as possible.

"So, it seems this is quite a pattern for you, isn't it? Getting pissed off? Throwing a tantrum? You have the emotional IQ of a 16-year-old girl, difference being, at least they know how to vent and get over it. You're pathetic."

The rain of corroding swiped rained down on Dyon's broad sword shield. He could tell that if he hadn't managed to blast through the gold layer of the weapon is his hand, it would have long since shattered completely.

"Oh." The clone suddenly spoke as though it had only just remembered something. But, Considering the devious glint in his eye said different. "I almost forgot to tell you. You probably don't want to accidentally touch the black fog around this arena. I mean, unless you want to leave out the emo thoughts in your head and die."

Before the words had even been fully processed by Dyon, the clone cocked back its scythe, evilly eying Dyon's back foot that was already near the edge of arena, before swinging forward with more force than he had during any of their exchanges.

The bones in Dyon's foot completely fractured, following the forceful revolving of his Celestial Wind Movement technique.

"Haha!" The clone laughed, as though completely expecting this. After all, he was Dyon, for all intents and purposes. As such, he knew all of Dyon's techniques as though they were his own.

However, the next instant completely surprised the clone.

Instead of running, Dyon only used the technique to quickly shift half a foot to the side, before perfectly slanting his broad sword to deflect the clone's blow.

Caught off guard, the clone stumbled forward, clearly headed for the dense black fog he had just warned Dyon about.

Quickly regaining his bearings, the clone sneered. "Such petty tricks. Don't you know that I'm you?"

The clone's eyes flashed with a white light. In that moment, a brilliant formation appeared, completely prepared to stop his moment from going too far forward.

Completely confident in his own means, the clone no longer bothered with his still falling momentum, instead using this opportunity to swing his scythe back toward Dyon, aiming to bisect him at the waist.

However, what he found was Dyon's sword shield.

BOOM!

Dyon was sent flying hundreds of meters back. His arms shook violently, threatening to break once again, while his feet that glided along the obsidian tiles cried under the pressure, not forgetting the fact they had just shattered due to Dyon's violent movement from before.

Eventually Dyon stopped, taking a deep breath and settling down.

At the same time, the clone fell into the defensive array it had created. After stabilizing itself, it pushed itself up from its awkward, half leaning, half falling position, before leisurely placing its scythe on its shoulder and walking toward Dyon.

"You did all of that just to go back to the middle of the arena?"

The clone didn't seem to be perturbed about being tricked. In fact, he was quite interested in how Dyon had such good battle sense, despite clearly being such a newbie.

The truth was that Dyon was correct, his clone wasn't able to replicate him perfectly. However, that wasn't due to any specialty that applied only to Dyon. Or, rather, more accurately, it wasn't a specialty that was exclusive to Dyon.

There were many other overwhelming geniuses who had entered the fourth trial that he wasn't able to replicate perfectly. Those in the top 10 of this trial were perfect examples of this, actually. It could be said that this was an advantage solely given to those amazing enough to not allow a perfect copy of them to be created, and it could also be said that if these imperfections didn't exist, it would be impossible for anyone to pass the fourth trial.

Of course, the speed at which Dyon recognized this still pissed the clone off a little bit, so he retaliated a bit too brashly. He wasn't actually supposed to tell Dyon how dangerous the black fog was, but he was infected by Dyon's arrogant personality. It was unfortunate that he didn't manage to copy all of Dyon intelligence, because Dyon would never risk losing for the sake of showing off.

Dyon silently straightened out his bent knees, rolling his neck as he too rested his weapon on his shoulder.

"Such a shame," The clone shook his head, slowly approach Dyon. "Such good instincts for battle, yet no ability to make the best use of it.

"Even though your wills are locked away, I can tell that even if you had them, you might be able to make use of 5% of their peak. If you went up against those geniuses from the sizable quadrants, you would get destroyed, it's so sad I could laugh.

"You know no weapon techniques, yet you call yourself a weapon's master. You know no fist techniques, yet you for some reason use them as often as you do weapons. The most important technique for someone as shabby as yourself, would be your movement technique, yet you haven't even managed to master the first act of it.

"What's the use of your celestial body? You would get played with to death by even a saint level genius, let alone one that had broken past sainthood."

Truth be told, Dyon wasn't really listening, he was only focused on allowing his ankles to heal. If he didn't, he would be in trouble.

The things this buffoon was saying were things he already knew. The only reason he never factored such things in his calculations, and the reason he still believed that even peak first grade saints would get played with to death by him, rather than the other way around, was because he was confident in his adaptation abilities.

For example, he had no business killing Jabari Ahpuch, yet that man's life and death was being held on by a string at the end, now wasn't it?

The clone shook its head again, as if reading Dyon's thoughts. "How many characters as stupid as Jabari do you think exist in this cosmos? In fact, Jabari could have actually been labeled a battle genius, it's only that you took advantage of the fact he had never seen concealment arrays before. How could you even be proud of such a victory?"

Dyon finally sighed, "If you're done talking, I don't mind getting this done and over with now."

"Aiyah, I didn't say all of that to destroy your morale and have you fall on your sword. I'm trying to encourage you!" The Clone said in mock pity.

Dyon didn't bother with the clone's antics. "Within one month, I'll clear this trial. You're not worth any more of my time."