Reaper of the Martial World

Book 13: Chapter 17: Regrett

Dyon and Atkin moved forward simultaneously as though in tacit agreement, the wind pressure of their fists colliding even before their fists themselves.

“You’ve grown weak, Nameless Immortal God!”

Atkin’s voice came out in a low growl, his reverberating voice beating like drums against the minds of all those who heard him.

The Dragon Ancestor could feel the feeble nature of Dyon’s strike. Compared to his own, it was almost like a fly fluttering in the wind, unable to upturn the storms around it.

Yet, completely out of his expectations, Dyon didn’t take a single step backward. His back stood as straight as a spear, his fist angling upward to meet the downward descending strike of the much taller humanoid beast. In that moment, it seemed that nothing in this world could shake him.

After a moment of being stunned, Atkin sneered.

“Even when things have come to this point, you’re still too prideful. You would rather take on internal injuries than take a step back under my attacks? Take another one! I want to see how long you can last!”

The Dragon Ancestor’s fists fell like an endless hail. He didn’t hold back even a single bit, his golden scales shimmering beneath the sunlight, making him look no different than a heaven blessed god of war.

However, even as his fists fell, Dyon’s sneer grew deeper and deeper.

This pain racking his body… the way his organs shifted and stirred, the way his arms cracked and fractured, this condescending look of his enemy…

How many years had it been?    

Dyon’s sneer deepened. If he really were to struggle with a battle against this jumping clown, shouldn’t he just accept his death right now? This young pup who had barely been an Ancestor for a few million years wanted to push him into a corner?

Dyon had created many things in his lifetime. Each one would be enough for another to be renowned through the ages. However, there were three things he was exceptionally proud of. The first was Array Alchemy. The second was [Inner World: Sanctuary]. And the third and final was [One Above All].

This little fool really thought his masterpiece of a lifetime was so simple? Wasn’t he just courting death?

“Little Tome. It’s been a long time since we let loose, huh?”

In that moment, a Soul Tome appeared in the air. It glowed brightly and suddenly bobbed up and down excitedly. It seemed to not even notice that Dyon was in battle as it rubbed its cover against his face.

“Soul Tome?!” The Dragon Ancestor’s breathing grew heavy.

Even after sending out so many strikes, his breathing hadn’t so much as hitched. He was an Immortal God, battling for even years at a time without rest was child’s play to him. However, the moment he saw a Treasure of the 33 Heavens, he completely lost his composure. No matter his status, he couldn’t help but look toward it with a gaze burning like two stars.

“So you’ve even delivered such a good treasure to me. Good, good.” Atkin roared with laughter.

The Dragon Ancestor fell back, flipping his palm over to reveal a halberd of almost four meters in length. It shimmered with a blinding gold, seemingly coated with the very same scales that covered Atkin’s body.

“Let’s go Little Tome. I’ve lost interest in this idiot.”

Dyon had hoped for a great battle, but seeing the actions of the Dragon Ancestor, he felt disdain to the depths of his heart. Regardless of how rare such a treasure was, did he need to lose his dignity to this extent? And, to make matters worse, he was actually still stupid enough to believe that he would be able to live to see the day he the Soul Tome would come into his possession.

Why was it that of all the treasures, this was the only one Dyon hadn’t allowed himself to throw away? Why was it that he had protected it, even to the point of having himself conveniently forget of its existence even after throwing away so many other Treasures of the 33 Heavens?

The reason was simple. Compared to even his own eye, the Soul Tome was far more valuable to Dyon. It was to the point that even if there were ten more of each of the treasures he had thrown away, they would still be beneath his notice compared to the Soul Tome.

The reason was because the Soul Tome wasn’t a Treasure of the 33 Heavens at all. Or rather, it couldn’t be considered solely as such.

The pages of the Soul Tome flipped open, hovering above Dyon’s head.

“A halberd, huh? I haven’t used one in a while, let’s go with that, Little Tome.”

Dyon’s weapon’s pagoda opened up once more. His flames converged, forming a halberd no smaller than the Dragon Ancestor’s own.

Compared to Atkin’s, his was much less resplendent, flickering like the flames of heaven and hell.

A flicker of rage passed the Dragon Ancestor’s eyes when he saw this. He was a man who stood at the top of the world. The number of individuals who dared to disrespect him were simply too few to count. Yet, today alone, he had been repeatedly smacked in the face by a mortal. He didn’t care if this mortal was once the Nameless Immortal God. Today, he would just be an ant for him to crush!

“First you thought of taking my head for a worm. And now, you want to use a halberd to humiliate me?” The Dragon Ancestor was so enraged he began to laugh.

After a moment, his laughing expression twisted and became savage. He slammed the butt of his halberd into the ground. Despite the fact Dyon’s grey island had no changes, the lands outside its bounds were instantly cracked and flattened.

A violent cyclone of qi descended from the skies and onto the Dragon Ancestor, tunneling into his body as though it was a bottomless pit.

“In the past, I was likely beneath your notice. But today, I’ll take on the role of informing juniors. Whether I can summon my Origin Source or not doesn’t matter. I, the Swallowing Skies Immortal God, can swallow anything. Even this artificial Origin Source of yours will obediently enter my stomach.”

“… You talk too much.”

Dyon lazily brandished his halberd, taking a step forward.

His feet firmly planted into the ground, drawing strength from the land beneath him. It seemed for a moment that he had fused with the world, becoming one with the earth.

Atkin’s muscles bulged as qi continuously flew into him. In a moment, he became so bright that it was almost difficult to look at.

“[Swallowing Skies].”

A rumbling growl left his lips as he raised his halberd into the air, already painting the death of Dyon in his mind. historical

This was the kind of moment he would be able to brag about for a lifetime. That unbelievable legend, that man who stood at the pinnacle of the Immortal Plane, he would die at his hands today. His legend, his karma, his arrogance, it would all be swallowed by him!

On one side of the battlefield, there was an impossibly bright light. However, on the other hand, there wasn’t any such thing. Dyon’s attack didn’t result in quaking skies or great illuminations. In fact, his movement seemed simple beyond compare.

Maybe the only thing out of the ordinary was the book madly flipping above his head. With each page it landed on, an inconspicuous light was emitted from its pages, only for it to disappear and flip to the next page.

However, with each flip, Dyon’s movements seemed to become blander and simpler. In the end, he looked like a child who had just picked up a halberd for the first time, swinging forward with the most ordinary of chops.

But, it was exactly at this moment that the Dragon Ancestor’s expression changed.

“Regret?” Dyon had seen this emotion too many times before. It was only a slight change, but he didn’t miss it at all. “Unfortunately for you, it’s a bit too late to feel like that now.”

Dyon’s halberd descended.

As though it was a thin sheet of paper, the Dragon Ancestor resplendent blade strike was sheared through. Before he could react, his head was split in two, a look of horror beaming from his eyes.

Dyon slowly walked forward. He frowned a bit after realizing that Atkin was still so much taller than him, so he used his halberd as a hook and pulled him down to his knees, looking at the latter’s split head as though admiring his masterpiece.

“The lives of dragons are indeed quite tenacious. Even now you’re breathing as though nothing has happened. Why don’t you use your soul to run away, hm?”

The two halves of the Dragon Ancestor’s head glared at Dyon, forming a ghastly scene. But, he still found it impossible to say or do anything. He might not be dead yet, but he wasn’t far from it. As for using his soul to run away… Was that even possible? Did he dare to do so? Who could match the Nameless Immortal God in matters of the soul.

“Ah, seems like you got a bit smarter. A bit too late for that now, though. Don’t you think?”

The Dragon Ancestor could see how pale Dyon was. He wanted to say something disdainful seeing that the latter could hardly stand now. But, was he even in a position to do so?

Unfortunately for him, just when he thought he had seen through Dyon’s limits, he didn’t notice that the very mouthful of blood he had spit out earlier, the very one this gray land had absorbed, had fused into Dyon’s feet, returning him to his peak in a flash.

Atkin could only despair as Dyon’s cheeks regained their color.

“I’ll let you handle the rest.” Dyon said.

For a moment, the Dragon Ancestor was confused. But, when he saw the grey land split to reveal a bone dragon with red veins coursing across its body, a wave of helplessness overwhelmed him.

“Hm, this halberd isn’t bad.”

Dyon walked toward Ysabell and Godefray, mumbling to himself. These were the last words the Dragon Ancestor heard.