Rebirth of the Nameless Immortal God

Patriarch Nightwell was a temperamental man to begin with. The only reason he hadn't spoken to this point wasn't out of respect for Dyon, but out of respect for his own father. Even though the old man had stepped down, Crystella's father still took him for the de facto leader of their Clan. As such, if the old man was speaking, it wasn't his place to interfere.

But, there was only so much he could take. Let alone a mortal, even if an Immortal Celestial born genius descended to this place he wouldn't accept such disrespect.

Of course, this was the difference between he and Dyon. For Dyon, he didn't care even if it was an Immortal God.

"How tiresome." Dyon shook his head. "If there's nothing you wanted, then I'll be leaving."

"Dyon, wait!" Crystella's voice was almost frantic. It wasn't quite there yet, but the change was completely unexpected for the maidservants and guards who had never seen their young mistress act in such a way.

"What is it this time?" Dyon was quite done with this place at this point.

The usual him would have lashed out and attacked someone by now, but the simple truth was that it he would have to go all out just to face up against a Lower Immortal Celestial. He couldn't beat all of them.

In truth, he couldn't even beat one of them. Both of Crystella's parents were Peak Immortal Celestials. And, her grandfather seemed infinitesimally close to the Immortal Law Realm. The only reason he didn't feel the need to be tense was because he didn't believe they had the ability to stop him from leaving this place if he really wanted to.

Plus, he also still had that paperweight. He was sure he could force some alchemy guilds to his side if it came to that.

"My Nightwell Clan will be facing the Darkwell and Dimwell Clans soon. If you could participate under our banner, we would reward you greatly!"

Crystella spoke faster than anyone could interrupt. Even her parents were stunned silent by her borderline begging attitude.

"Why would you need my help for something like that? If that corpse Kywen and that snitch Tedric are the best those two Clans have to offer, you alone should be enough."

Dyon gave Crystella the courtesy of response and withholding his laughter. Nigthwell, Darkwell and Dimwell? Who the hell named these families?

[Author's Note: … ]

"I can easily handle battle, but the competition is about more than just this. There's still an alchemy and formation portion. I've never been good at these things and the talents we do have are too lacking."

"Is this competition important?"

"Yes, very important. It decides who maintains control of the core of this world. Our Nightwell Clan has maintained control for billions of years, but my birth took much of the karma away from this generation. So, aside from me, the talents are lacking."

Dyon raised an eyebrow internally. So karma worked like that too? How interesting.

'But the world core? That, I most definitely have to see. I can probably comprehend 9th level Immortal Essence in this world in a few years. It's not exactly abundant in this place, but its definitely much more than what they had on the desert world…'

"Sure, I can guarantee a win in any category I participate in. But in return, I want to see your world core."

"Absolutely not!" Patriarch Nightwell roared.

"In addition." Dyon continued. "If she's being held here prisoner, I suggest that you release her."

Crystella was shocked when she saw that Dyon was pointing toward Amethyst.

"What do you mean? My Master isn't a prisoner!"

"Oh? Is that so?" Dyon swept a glance over the retired patriarch. "Well, I don't care much either way since she so rudely refused my help."

Without another word, Dyon walked back to his courtyard, not sparing Amethyst another glance.

...

"… He said 'Are you trying to kill your Inheritor's husband?', I heard him very clearly. I'm certain those were his words."

A nervous maidservant gripped the hems of her dress, looking down at the ground as she accepted the interrogation she was being subjected to.

"Inheritor? Husband?" Mistress Nightwell's delicate brow frowned. "If my daughter likes him, he's not allowed to have other women. Who is this Inheritor? Find out and bring her to me. If she agrees to disappearing, we can let her go. If not…"

Mistress Nightwell's gentle gaze flashed with a sharp killing intent.

"Mother!" Crystella cried out. "Don't say such things!"

"What are you saying? You finally like a boy after all these years, and you want to share him? I won't allow it!"

"Why are you speaking like this boy is acceptable? If it wasn't for Crystella's sake, I would have blasted him into a cloud of blood! You want my daughter to marry a mortal? I won't accept it!"

"What did you just say to me?" Mistress Nightwell glared at her husband.

Patriarch Nightwell's jaw set, but he said nothing more.

The old man shook his head. Why were they arguing about the completely unimportant points?

"Put away your killing intent, Ela. If you let the boy sense such a thing, he really won't hesitate to make enemies out of you. Whether he cares for this wife he mentioned or not, I do not know. But what I do know is that he's completely inflexible.

"What's more important is something else. Amethyst, come here."

There was a level of affection in the old man's eye that wasn't there even for his own son. Maybe only his granddaughter could match it.

Amethyst expressionlessly made her way over, her violet hair flowing to the ground behind her.

"Who is this Inheritor the boy speaks of? And can she be used to control him?"

"… I do not know. I have no way of grasping what happens on the mortal plane."

"So your Inheritor has already transcended? If we could find her, this would be good for you. You'd be able to recover a portion of your strength, no?"

Amethyst's gaze narrowed.