Rebirth of the Nameless Immortal God

"First Brother, is it necessary to go this far?"

Aritzia's words had lost their former caring tone. It wasn't that she had suddenly becenraged, but rather that she was growing more and more callous as tpassed. With every passing moment, her Dao Heart was tempered to a greater degree and the more certain she becof her path.

With each strike, her power seemed to grow exponentially, inching closer and closer toward her First Brother's true peak.

Dyon didn't respond. His arms swung seemingly without a care in the world, carrying with them a power that could cause a universe to collapse.

Aritzia's brows furrowed.

"I don't know how it is you managed to stop the charge of my Clan, but I know that there's most definitely a tlimit. Let's say that you really do somehow manage to defeatin the end, what do you plan on doing with them? Do you really think that everything ends with me? How many years has my Sapientia Clan existed? Even if I am the most powerful of them all, do you think my death would really stop anything?

"First Brother, is there really a need to go so far? To sacrifice so much?"

Aritzia's fist met Dyon's. She could sense the fracturing of his bones, but Dyon's expression didn't even wrinkle as he pulled his arm back, swinging his scythe forward once again.

"Why are you suddenly speaking so much?" Dyon replied indifferently.

Their battle had been raging for several months already. In fact, it was almost the eighth. Yet, these were the first words Aritzia had spoken in a long while.

Though he didn't say it, the meaning of his words were obvious. Did someone who was certain in their victory have to say so much to get their opposition to give up?

Dyon wasn't wrong. Despite the situation he was in, Aritzia felt a growing unease lodging in her heart. Every tit crept up, she would reaffirm her Dao, causing her heart to strengthen once again… But, with every cycle, this unease grew harder and harder to expunge.

Dyon's lip curled, his foot slamming downward as he sent forward another attack.

To his back, a singular eye flickered in the skies, staring toward Aritzia unblinkingly as though it could see through all of her secrets.

Aritzia's anxious feeling wasn't completely without merit. She had been so focused on Dyon's battle initially that she hadn't even noticed the change to the Mortal Plane. It was only a while ago when she felt confident in her victory did she turn a part of her attention toward her surroundings. She had hoped to deal a blow to Dyon, maybe mentioning to him how many of his wives had died already, or better yet, that his daughter had already died.

But, who knew that she would find the number of her clansmen to be sorely lacking? Not just this, but even though their situation wasn't exactly safe, none of his wives had died.

This sort of reality was a massive blow to her. She had been certain that without Dyon's backing, his wives were just ants she could crush without even lifting a finger personally.

The reality of it all made her heart falter. Though she quickly recovered, the uneasiness only grew.

"I just don't want to see you have to suffer through that pain again." Aritzia sneered.

"Oh? So it seems you still haven't realized the situation you're in yet."

Dyon suffered another blow to the chest, blood flying from his mouth, completely outside of his control.

"My situation?" Aritzia's sneer deepened. "You should be worried about yours. You haven't laid a single hand onfrom start to finish."

Aritzia's words weren't wrong. She still looked like a woman in the prof her youth. Let alone an injury or blood, she hadn't even suffered the lightest bruise. As if this alone wasn't enough, she wasn't even sweating as though this was never that difficult for her to begin with.

In her mind, the only reason Dyon hadn't died yet was because she wasn't willing to take the risk to push him to that point just yet. She wasn't foolish enough to underestimate her First Brother even in this situation.

He was a man who had turned the Immortal Plane upside down. She would be asking for death if she thought that he would fall so simply.

So, she was keen to sit and wait. In her mind, standing on top of the world didn't just have to do with the size of her fist, but also her mind… She was a Sapientia. In a lot of ways, compared to how strong she was, she placed more emphasis on how smart she was.

As a result, she felt no shstringing her First Brother along in this way, weeding away his strength until he had nothing left. Maybe, splace deep within her heart, she wanted the image of her First Brother to fall to the greatest low. Only then would she be able to cleanly separate from him after he died…

She wanted to destroy his image in her heart by her own hand. It was quite a sadistic thing, but she knew she had to do it. Only then would she sit atop that throne in peace.

Dyon only smiled at these words.

"I knew from the very beginning that I wouldn't be able to beat you in strength. Wouldn't that be too ridiculous? You're a Peak Immortal God and I'm a mortal who has yet to finish perfecting his body. Don't you think a bit too much of yourself taking pride in defeating me?"

Aritzia was stunned. Of all the words she expected to hear, these were the very last.

Was this really her First Brother? The man she worshipped so much? The one who had never taken a loss in his entire life? Was she hearing correctly?

After she settled down from her shock, Aritzia felt as though a wait had been lifted from her chest. And, for the first tin a long time, she smiled, genuinely.

However, when Dyon saw this smile, a flash of pity whisked by his gaze. It was a for but a fleeting moment, so fleeting that Aritzia didn't notice.

He knew how she was feeling. She was finally relieved that his legend in her mind had been wiped away completely. This was why she smiled like this, putting forth such genuine emotion for maybe the first tin her life. Now, she really had no connections left with this world.

"Since that's the case… fair well, First Brother."

Aritzia's momentum climbed to a new peak. A golden shadow so large it dwarfed a plappeared to her back, taking the form of a shimmering abacus.

Her palms stretched outward, vibrating in the air. Each vibration layered atop of one another, fusing together to the point space trembled.

It could be said that the space within an Origin Source was several levels more powerful than the Immortal Plane. It was for this reason that Immortal Gods usually took their battles to places like these. Yet, it seemed that at that very moment, Aritzia wanted nothing more than to shatter her own world.

"Layering instances of time? Not bad." Dyon said indifferently.

How could he not tell what was happening? Through her abacus Vajra Body, Aritzia had a control of tthat likely rivaled even their master. This attack… was definitely among her most powerful.

Layering the past, present and future. Fusing the attacks into one to create a world resounding strike.

Aritzia met Dyon's gaze. Her own no longer carried the slove and attraction. It held nothing but indifference.

It couldn't be described as cold nor was there any anger or disdain. It was as though Dyon was no longer worthy of these emotions from her.

When one stepped on an ant or swatted a fly… was there a need for emotions?

Aritzia took a step forward. She carried a valiant air that suffused the surroundings, yet she still maintained the elegance of a woman. One would think that instead of levying an attack that would kill the only man she ever loved, she was raising her paint brush to finish the strokes of a painting.

As her palm approached Dyon's head, she couldn't help but think of the first tthey met.

In truth, she hadn't been accepted by Abraxus as a disciple initially. She followed him around, doing odd tasks for him. After all, in her life, there were only two men she ever respected. Dyon and her Master.

She remembered that the day Abraxus accepted Dyon as his First Disciple despite having met her first, she was infuriated. She immediately challenged Dyon that very day.

Things didn't go as one would expect. Let alone putting up a fight, Dyon was beaten into the ground so severely by her that his handsface had beccompletely obscured beneath the cuts and bruises.