Reaper of the Martial World - Book 13: Chapter 36: Falllen

Dyon didn’t seem to hear Haven’s words at all. But even if he had, would it matter?

Calling him the incarnation of evil? So what?

He would let the world know just how evil he could be. He would rip their tendons from their bodies, drain them of their blood, and rip their souls apart piece by piece.

Evil incarnate? Was that supposed to be disparaging him in any way? That was exactly what he wanted to be.

SSSSSKKKKKKKRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEE

Dyon reached forward, trying to rip a sprite apart with his bare hands just as he had done with countless enemies before. But, he found himself grasping at air.

Their bodies, completely incorporeal, seemed to slip right through his fingers.

At the same time, barrages of qi assaulted him from all sides. A rainbow of colors filled the skies, crashing into him with a momentum that could obliterate universes in the blink of an eye.

Dyon walked through the rain of attacks, reaching forward toward another sprite, only to find that his fingers slipped through once again.

Seeing this, Haven’s eyes brightened.

An Immortal God with Dyon’s level of intelligence… how could they possibly make such a mistake twice? In fact, even making it once was already one time too many. Who didn’t know that sprites had bodies that couldn’t be influenced by normal means? Dyon, especially, should have known this already.

The only explanation was that in this state, even though Dyon seemed several times more powerful than he had been in the past, he paid

the price of his sanity and intelligence. In such a case, wouldn’t killing him be that much easier?!

Haven brandished their sword, the swirls of qi around them concentrating with each passing second.

HONG! HONG! HONG!

The energy pulsed madly, only to be slowly reeled in step by step, eventually fusing and then concentrating onto the blade of his sword.

The power alone was so immense that even the slight trembling of Haven’s hands as they tried to stabilize their weapon caused space to crack and shatter.

This was their strongest form. This was the fusion of their life’s work.

Haven knew the importance of this battle. It was either Dyon died, or their Sprite Hegemon would never see the light of day again.

Dyon reached forward again, his black bone hands slipping through a current of energy once again.

This time, a flicker of frustration colored the abyss of blackness that were his eyes. He had even tossed aside his most powerful weapon, all so that he could feel himself ripping these bastards limb from limb, so why did they keep slipping through his fingers?!

BANG!

Dyon didn’t even notice when Haven had suddenly appeared before him, slashing down with a sword that sparkled like a sizzling sun. So much energy was concentrated at its edge that it left a smoky path in the air, burning everything away.

At that instant, Dyon was grabbing forward once again. But this time, in his rage, his black flames had snaked onto his hands.

The instant his hands landed on the wind sprite, he finally felt something. Agonizing shrieks filled the air, but it was also at this very moment that Haven’s sword descended, slicing into the bone of Dyon’s collarbone and continuing until it almost exited the last of his ribcage.

However, even in that moment, an immense feeling of satisfaction welled up in Dyon’s heart. He could feel it, the lifeforce of the sprite seeping through his fingers.

He didn’t even spare a glance toward Haven who stood right before him, brandishing their sword with all their might. Instead, he only had eyes for the sprite that was screaming off to his side.

His hand remained stretched out, his black skull tilting as a manic light flickered in his eye sockets.

His jaw rattled as the sound of bone grinding filled the air.

A shudder swept through the sprites. Was he… smiling?

SSSSKKKKKKKKKRRRRRRRREEEEEEE

Dyon ripped the sprite apart, a bellow shaking the skies as he ripped Haven’s sword from his body.

As though he had lost his mind, he raised Haven’s sword to his mouth, biting it in half with a single snap.

Haven hastily retreated, but Dyon didn’t even care to target him. He instantly went to the closest sprite, grasping her skull with both hands.

His thumbs pierced into her eyes, paying no mind to the heart wrenching screams that filled the battlefield. Then, he ripped her head in half.

A spray of silver blood washed over Dyon, falling to the grey land beneath his feet and being soaked up.

Dyon didn’t seem satisfied. His roars shook the skies as he jumped from sprite to sprite. Sometimes he would rip their hearts from their chests, sometimes he would tear them limb from limb, and yet others he would smash their skulls into a bloody pulp.

Like a harbinger of death, he shot across the battlefield, leaving a streak of black flames in his wake.

He appeared before a metal sprite.

It could be said that this was the most fear this sprite had ever felt in his lifetime. Dyon just loomed over him for a moment, a smoky blackness filling the space around him. Just looking into Dyon’s eyes made him feel as though his whole body was burning. Tears

uncontrollably fell from his eyes as though he knew that this was the end of his life.

Was it worth it?

These were his final thoughts before Dyon smashed his teeth apart with a bony fist, reaching into his throat through his mouth and ripping his esophagus and spine out.

Haven watched on with horror. This strength no longer seemed to be within the realm of humans. Dyon didn’t seem to know fatigue, he didn’t seem to know injury, he didn’t seem to know mercy.

Haven was old. They had been there in Dyon’s prime when he took the Immortal Plane as his own backyard, wreaking havoc wherever he went.

But, Haven had never been the recipient of Dyon’s rage. He only heard stories from afar… How could anything like a distant story,

probably littered with falsehood and exaggerations, possibly shake him as much as witnessing it all for himself?

By the time Dyon appeared before Haven once again, the latter only seemed to have eyes for their fallen comrades. It was quite ironic, in the beginning, Dyon hadn’t cared much for them. And now, they didn’t care much for Dyon. However, the reason for their feeling this was completely different…

Dyon didn’t care who it was he was killing, whether their standings were high or low, none of it mattered. However, Haven… felt guilty. The deaths of these sprites, it was all their fault… Haven was their Ancestor, but they pushed them to their deaths…

Haven could still resist. Even in Dyon’s current state, it wouldn’t be easy to take down such an

elite. But… Haven didn’t even want to anymore…

BANG!

SSSSKKKKKKKKRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEE

Dyon was completely enraged. Just when he was about to tear Haven apart, the latter actually exploded, leaving him hitting empty air once again. Maybe this was the closest thing to victory anyone on this battlefield had ever grasped.

Billowing black flames spurted out from Dyon’s mouth. He seemed to have been completely possessed by his flames. He was covered in head to toe to the point the flames almost seemed to have a life of their own, wiggling about his body.

When they finally came together, they looked no different from a reaper’s robe, dancing

about in the wind as though it really was a piece of fabric.

At that moment, some sparks of emotion that weren’t coated by madness finally appeared in Dyon’s eyes. Before him, all that remained blocking his path to Abraxus, the First White Mother and Elise were an elite group of chariots pushed by golden horned unicorns. Each of them stood on their four legs, their horns proudly piercing the skies.

If one could only see the battlefield like this, it would be hard to imagine why one would ever be on Dyon’s side. Wasn’t it clear at a single glance just who was good and who was evil?

The radiant golden lights of the Sapientia versus the endless chaos flames of Dyon. How was it even a difficult decision?

Empress Elise narrowed his eyes seeing Dyon’s gaze. Hadn’t he lost his mind? Why was it that

it seemed he was still very much sane? Was it just an illusion?

At this moment, even she couldn’t help but feel hints of fear.

“Don’t worry so much.” Abraxus said calmly, even pinching her plump bottom and receiving a glare in return for his efforts. “Even if the sky falls, aren’t I still here to catch it?”

The words made Elise’s glare melt into a beautiful smile. She couldn’t help but lean into Abraxus that much more. That was right… The Time and Space Immortal God… he was already a legend even before Dyon was born. What need was there for her to fear anything with this man by her side.

“After all this is over, I’ll help you search for that familiar aura you sensed.” Abraxus pinched her bottom again, not even looking back toward Dyon after sparing him the first glance.

“I’m still an Empress, you can’t just sexually harass me in public like this.” Elise pouted.

“Oh? And why not?” Abraxus grinned.

The two of them spoke as though a Hegemon of the ages hadn’t just fallen…