Reaper of the Martial World

Book 4: Chapter 44: Shit King

Caedlum and his elder brother both looked toward their father. When had they ever seen their father react in such a way? He was their rock, an anchor that had held their small Pakal branch family up even in the face of being essentially cast away to these lands. If it wasn’t for him, how many times would the Ragnor clan have trampled all over them?

And yet this man was practically shaking in his seat, paling as though he had seen a ghost.

Unlike the Ragnor God Clan, the Pakal God Clan had not come to this universe on a mission. Instead, under the enmity of opposing branches and due to permeating inter-clan warfare, Patriarch Pakal had fled with his family.

In the process, many of their best and brightest had died and only he remained of this original Pakal branch.

He alone reached this universe. He had been young and green. In fact, he had relied on the disunity of this universe to grow in the shadows before fully establishing the Pakals again. And now he had a ray of hope in his youngest son to raise their branch back to their former glory.

But, what could possibly make him react in such a way?

“Father?” Caedlum lightly probed.

“Ah…” Patriarch Pakal responded, but still seemed to be in a daze before he shook his head to clear his mind. “Caedlum.”

“Yes, father?”

“This Dyon boy… You and him together. Do you understand?” Patriarch Pakal spoke a few words, but the weight of them stunned Caedlum.

All his life, ever since he had been found to hold their Pakal family’s faith seed, his father had given him the responsibility of bearing their future on his shoulders. But now he was saying to share that burden?

Caedlum didn’t know whether he should feel relieved or not. In fact, he was more confused than anything.

Because he had been so focused on trying to learn demonic will in the legacy world, Caedlum had never met the demon sage. As the saying goes, that’s what fate held for them.

Had the Demon Sage seen Caedlum, he would have immediately recognized the bloodline within him. How could he not? He was among the most formidable Pakals in history. Although he, himself, never transcended to leave behind a faith seed of his own due to the unfortunate circumstances of his life, that didn’t stop his legend from being among the most pervading. All he would have had to do was see Caedlum and he would have never even given Dyon a second glance.

Everything would have lined up perfectly. In fact, the Demon Sage might have even been happy about giving his legacy over to Caedlum. After all, the story behind why Caedlum’s Pakal family branch was kicked away would have deeply resonated with the Demon Sage. Why? Because it was partially the Demon Sage’s fault.

“Father… Are you sure? Why? Does it have to do with this Demon Sage he mentioned?” Caedlum was quite intelligent in his own right. Considering Dyon had only stated two names, and one of them was from the completely unrelated celestial deer sect, the logical conclusion was this demon sage. But, Caedlum didn’t know Pakal Clan history to the extent his father did. He spent all of his time cultivating to live up to his father’s expectations, so, how could he?

“After the conclusion of today’s event, I’ll tell you everything. But, he needs to be there as well.” Although Caedlum didn’t know it, his father had already decided to wholeheartedly protect Dyon as though he was a son of his own. If it came to it, and King Belmont didn’t go far enough, he would have no qualms about stepping in for Dyon should he need the help.

That said, considering what Patriarch Pakal had seen from Dyon, he was too intelligent to do anything that left him at a severe disadvantage. That likely meant he already had a degree of certainty that King Belmont would act. ‘What an interesting boy…’ For the first time in decades, Patriarch Pakal smiled. He could finally see a road.

Suddenly, Pakal felt a heavy gaze pierce through the void and land upon him.

A sneer appeared on Patriarch Pakal’s features, ‘You’re quite rude.’

A light snort filled Pakal’s ears, ‘It seems you’ve been keeping up in your cultivation.’

‘What do you want, Ragnor?’ Pakal had little patience at the moment. And he definitely didn’t want to deal with such an enemy invading his private space. The Pakal and Ragnor’s were not on good terms. If it wasn’t for giving face to King Belmont, they wouldn’t even be in the same arena right now.

The Ragnor had stolen one of the very few legacy techniques Patriarch Pakal had been able to salvage in his trip across the universes: The Blood Sacrifice Technique. Even when Dyon had revealed the location to them, another bloody war had erupted that resulted in the Ragnor, again, taking possession of it.

Patriarch Pakal never understood why the Ragnor wanted the technique so much. He knew the history of it. In fact, it was because of this very technique that the Pakal Clan had been split. Some had wanted to make use of lives to increase the strength of their clan and thus finally force the Ragnor into submission. While Patriarch Pakal’s faction had been wholeheartedly against it. Although that was merely a single point of contention, with there being many others, it was a point nonetheless.

However, the problem with the Ragnor using it was that they didn’t have the leeway in this universe to use the lives of its citizens as they pleased. The Belmont would never allow such a thing, lest they lose public favor. So, the Ragnor wanting it was absolutely ridiculous because they’d need to use it on a much larger scale than the Storm family of Focus Academy had. A scale which would never go under the radar.

‘Can’t I just catch up with an old friend?’ Patriarch Ragnor’s voice was suave and gentle. He came off as a refined man. But, those who knew his ruthlessness would know better.

‘Get to the point.’

Patriarch Ragnor chuckled. ‘Nothing much… It’s only that I think I heard a name just now that sounded very familiar…’

Pakal froze. ‘Could he possibly know? They’re just a Ragnor branch family who should be far removed from the main branch. How could he know such deep seeded lore? Even my own sons don’t know…’

‘A familiar name? What do you mean?’ Despite his surprise, Pakal responded without delay, less he give himself away.

Patriarch Ragnor’s voice faded away, ‘Haha. Just a coincidence then…’

King Aumen’s eyes constricted at Dyon’s words. This demon sage? He had never heard of such a person. But, how could he be from this universe and not have heard of the famed Celestial Deer Sect?

That said, Thadius had called this boy the successor. And then Dyon had stated that he was the successor of the demon sage. Which only meant one thing… King Aumen wasn’t qualified to know who this demon sage was.

He briefly thought for a moment that maybe this demon sage was weak. But, how could that be possible with Thadius’ talent? A large part of him still believed that his son would be more than a match for Dyon. But, he knew fully well that his son was already within Thadius’ age range and yet he had not a single chance against this Thadius.

Dyon smiled, “Don’t be so worried King Aumen, both my master and the man I plan on succeeding are dead.”

Those listening to Dyon’s words couldn’t help but be stunned again. What did he get out of revealing such a thing now? Was he trying to toy with King Aumen? Or were they really dead? And if they were really dead, why would he remove all doubt like this? Wouldn’t it be beneficial to him if King Aumen thought they were alive?

At Dyon’s words, even King Aumen’s kingly aura seemed to twitch. ‘What audacity.’

“Regardless of whether they’re alive or not,” King Aumen replied calmly, “I am a King, and I rule a planet. If I bowed my head and allowed my subjects to be so easily bullied just because of the power of my enemy, I wouldn’t be much of a good king.”

“No,” Dyon shook his head in agreement, “But, you’d be a smart king.”

“Oh? And why is that?”

“For one, it’s probably in your best interest that those two girls aren’t under your rule anymore. After all, a King is only as good as his subjects. They’re who really uphold your kingdom. And yet, you were letting two cancers infest your sturdy foundation. I was only helping.”

“You!” Patriarch Geb and Horus were furious. He dared to call their daughters cancer before them?

“Secondly, there’s your reputation,” Dyon continued unperturbed, “Two of your top 30 rankers, the equivalent of the top 10 your planet has to offer, were willing to cheat under the eyes of all these people. Imagine that, 20% of your best 10 talents were cheaters. What does that say about Planet Deimos?”

“You’d best be very clear on who you’re accusing of what,” King Aumen spoke, waving his hand to silence the other two.

Tau and Ur Aumen, King Aumen’s two sons, watch silently by their father’s side. Their temperaments were nearly identical, even right down to the intelligent glint in their eyes. It seemed they appreciated the route their father was going with this.

Dyon laughed, “So from my understanding, two matches my wives were dominating from beginning to end just abruptly changed for the worse the instant the two of them no longer had a chance?”

King Aumen continued unperturbed, “I can’t speak for your wives, but I can say that Ode and Eboni were both very hard working and diligent. In fact, they were both promised to my eldest son in marriage. While your wives remain safe, my son’s wives are gone. How do you plan on compensating us for this?”

King Belmont, although he had arrived, stood to the side quietly. He wanted to see exactly where this would go. Was this Dyon really relying on him? Or did he have something else?

“How would you like me to compensate?” Dyon asked with a smile.

“In two ways,” King Aumen’s aura blazed, his golden flames seemingly distorting the space around him, “One is for my son and the other is for Planet Deimos.

The first. An eye for an eye. A tooth for a tooth. Your wives must die.

The second, for the disrespect you’ve laid upon my planet, is your own life or your cultivation. You can decide. From what I hear, you come from a people of cripples, so maybe you don’t have the pride of a martial artist.”

Patriarch Geb and Horus were silently pleased by their King’s words. And quite eager to see Dyon pay for his overbearing actions.

The way Dyon had gone about this was entirely too domineering. He had done nothing less than slap the face of King Aumen, killing his subordinates right before him.  

Dyon’s smile faded away. Had only his life been threatened, he would have been apt to continue this game of cat and mouse. But, to threaten the lives of his wives, especially when someone on the level of a celestial expert should have very clearly seen Ode and Eboni cheat, was unforgivable.

“Interesting. So, let me get this straight. Just for the record. You, being the celestial expert you are, saw no foul play committed by Ode or Eboni. Is that correct?”

“I’ve already spoken as such, is there a need to ask that question? It would be better for me if you three commit suicide. I wouldn’t like to sully my hands with such a matter.”

Away from the scene, Femi Geb was still fuming. The earth around him was quaking with such madness that the cracks erupting from his feet had shattered the accommodations he had been given as a member of the “true top 10”.

When he heard that Dyon would lose his life, it did nothing to calm his mood. He wanted to fight him, and he wanted to fight him now. He needed revenge.

“KING, YOUR ROYAL HIGHNESS.” Femi’s voice boomed, its grating rockiness pervading the arena.

King Aumen turned his burning gaze toward Femi.

“Allow me the chance to execute him. I don’t want anyone being able to say “what if”.” Femi said earnestly.

Femi’s body flashed with speed only a peak essence gathering expert a hair from becoming a saint could reach before landing in an untouched arena.

“Come!” Femi roared.

Dyon turned his gaze to Femi’s hulking body. The man was truly too big. Although he was 5 meters tall, he seemed just about as wide.

Then, he turned to Madeleine and Ri, completely unperturbed by having his back facing King Aumen.

“You two want to watch a show? You must be tired.” A sad look appeared on Dyon’s face as he stroked the cheeks of his wives. He could have saved them much earlier than he did, but he knew they could hold out to the final moment. Only then would it be clear just who between the four of them was the best. In the end, it was without a doubt his wives.

Ri and Madeleine looked to Dyon. They could only see concern in his eyes. It was almost as though he hadn’t just been threatened by the head of a Royal God Clan.

“Here,” With a wave of his hand, the Demon Sage’s Tower expanded, dropping directly before the arena Femi stood on. The aura was so stifling that even the head of the Royal God Clan’s froze for an instant. They could all feel that this wasn’t a normal treasure. In fact, King Aumen knew instantly that even as long as Dyon powered it appropriately, he would have no chance of breaching it.

However, instead of using it to escape like he thought, Dyon simply led his wives in at a leisurely pace, allowing them to sit and view the arena.

A large panned glass window of the tower opened to allow them in, letting everyone see Dyon kneel before Ri and Madeleine. “There’ll come a time where no one even dares to threaten you two.” He said softly.

Ri and Madeleine’s eyes glistened, the words caught in their throats.

They knew very well the treasures Dyon had access to. Even more, they knew how powerful Ri’s mother was. By all measures, Dyon shouldn’t be taking this as seriously as he was. King Aumen’s threats had no chance of coming to fruition. But, the sincerity and gentleness in his voice made it clear that this was still weighing on him. He had a drive that few people if any could match.

Two smiles, matchless in through the universes, graced Dyon sight as they each grabbed one of his hands.

To everyone watching, it almost seemed like a goodbye between lovers. Only the three of them knew what it truly meant. Dyon was angry, and he was about to wreak havoc.

Kawa Acacia watched this scene from the skybox. The anger in her heart was so dense that she wasn’t able to withdraw her Kitsune form. If it wasn’t for the arrays protecting the skybox, her aura would have long since shattered it and blasted into the arena.

But, she kept holding onto that image of Dyon holding out a hand to her. Regardless of how arrogant he was, Kawa could see through this child. How many years had she lived? How many things had she experienced?

Where everyone else saw a boy arrogant beyond belief, she saw a child still trying to prove himself.

Again and again Dyon did these outlandish things. Time and time again he succeeded in executing them, cutting down the obstacles in his path. And yet they continued to doubt, to look down on his accomplishments, to try and take away the loves of his life, to treat his life as though it was a toy for them to take away and play with as they pleased.

Dyon had already told her that she would unfortunately never be able to meet his mother. The moment those words left his mouth, Kawa could feel a deep and reverberating pain that still hadn’t left him. In that moment Dyon had ceased being the picture of absolute confidence, or even a man. He had become the boy he really was.

Seeing this pained Kawa. Not only because she had taken a liking to Dyon, but also because of what must have meant for the pain Ri went through without her. She was a mother that had never gotten the opportunity to truly be a mother, and she wanted nothing more than to protect not just Ri, but also Madeleine and Dyon.

Dyon flashed out of the, landing without a sound on the arena floor. Despite its constant quaking under Femi’s feet, the ground seemed to be completely still under Dyon’s. However, Femi didn’t seem to notice this, even as he angrily glared at Dyon.

“I’m going to rip you apart.” His grating voice permeated the arena. “Then, I’ll ask to be allowed to execute your wives as well. It’s almost a shame that you won’t be alive to see it. Maybe I should cripple you first.

Or maybe, it’ll be more interesting if I just tell you what I’m going to do. So I can watch you despair and fight desperately, only to lose in the end.” Femi’s sneer looked particularly disgusting with his protruding jaw.

Dyon listened silently, letting his anger boil.

The martial world never ceased to amaze him. Imagine acting like a victim in such a situation.

They had dared to put the lives of his wives at risk, and then they asked him for payment in return. What for? To save face? To not admit that they were wrong? Because they thought they had the power to trample over people as they please? Was this really what it meant to be a martial artist? Was this even a world he wanted to stand at the top of? What was the point?

“Today your Planet Deimos has made quite a few mistakes,” Dyon spoke frankly. But his voice, there was something wrong. It was as though it had fallen into an abyssal darkness. It was a low and hoarse. “You’ll be the first to pay for them.”

The veins on Femi’s forehead bulged. He couldn’t believe that Dyon still dared to talk to him in this way. There was no room to hide, no room to fake and definitely no room to avoid the truth anymore. Femi believed that he would crush him right here and now.

“Geb’s Gauntlet’s.” Femi’s roared. “Saint’s Rage.” His fists slammed against each other as the quaking of the earth beneath his feet increased 100-fold.

A blinding light emitted from his fists, sending sparks flying around the arena as the crowd watched with rapt attention.

Patriarch Geb couldn’t help but nod in satisfaction. To cultivate their clan’s Geb’s gauntlet’s to the fourth layer meant to step into the saint level of the technique. Although Femi wasn’t yet a saint, he was but a step away and had thus grasped the technique most suited to a saint level expert. This meant his battle power was far above that a normal essence gathering expert.

Dyon stood with his shoulders square. His chest was bare, but his torso had clean white bandages wrapped tightly around them matched with his usual black sweat pants.

His anger was clear. Flickers of black flames raged in his eyes even as Femi’s hulking figure charged toward him.

Dyon’s skin reddened and bulged. A heated steam escaped from his body, pushing his limits. “Demon Emperor’s Will. Act 1. Stage 3. Perfection.”

Veins of gold pumped through his muscles, reorganizing his tissues.

“DIE!” Femi’s large fists cut through the air, aiming to end Dyon’s life in a single blow.

Dyon’s eyes flashed as his back flexed. His fists tucked to either side of him, clenching tightly. Suddenly, they snapped, flying forward.

A sneer appeared on Femi’s features as he watched Dyon’s fists come to meet his. ‘You dare to have a test of strength with me?!’

There was a reason Femi was so big despite being a human with relatively low cultivation. He was born with a God level constitution that granted him innate strength at a level that scaled to his cultivation. If his cultivation was at the essence gathering level, his body would be able to cross into the saint level! And even worse? With every clash, he would become stronger because he could make use of residual energy from clashes to improve his striking power.

Tyranny’s Rage God Constitution!

Dyon looked like an ant standing before a giant.

And then.

Their fists clashed.

A maelstrom of stone and wind blasted from their location, causing a crater to appear below their feet.

Femi roared, relishing in the feeling of his blood boiling. But, he soon realized that something was wrong… He still felt Dyon’s fists connected to his…

“Impossible!” Patriarch Geb didn’t know how to feel. Who could know more than him how tyrannical his son’s body was? Just how many treasures had he spent on opening up his son’s constitution to the level it was at now?!

Femi was stunned, but soon anger replaced his emotions. “Good! It shouldn’t be so easy! How would it be satisfying then?! Eat my fists!”

Dyon’s face was completely neutral, deadpan even. His eyes weren’t flashing. He wasn’t using his energy cultivation to replenish his stamina. And he had cut off his 6^th sense. He wanted to brawl. He wanted to bury this Femi beneath his feet using the same tactics he used. He wanted to feel his bones crunch under his fists and watch as blood flowed from his body.

Everyone watched as a massive, hulking man sent a flurry of fists at a boy less than half his height.

Booming rings of air flung from their clashes. Their figures flashed across the arena, leaving craters of earth in their wake.

Femi’s anger boiled. His fists became heavier with each strike, increasing in strength. The gauntlet’s that graced his arms were of the saint grade, their hardness could not be underestimated. Even a mid level saint with have issues cracking them. And yet, Dyon didn’t wince even once as he used his bare hands to fight back.

Blood flew from his fists, and yet he didn’t pull back.

He had a clear advantage in wills comprehended, yet he didn’t use it.

His soul was his strongest attribute, yet he didn’t use it.

He had transcendent level weapons, yet he didn’t use them.

He was pissed. Even Femi’s overbearing attitude was starting to be tempered by Dyon’s unrelenting ferocity. He was a madman.

Dyon coughed up blood as he used his forearm to block one of Femi’s strikes. He turned his body, dissipating its momentum.

He threw a fist at Femi’s arm as it flew by his rotating body. The fist was sharp and although Dyon could have aimed for Femi’s flesh, he still hit the gauntlet’s.

“IDIOT!” Femi raged as his other arm aimed for Dyon’s head.

Dyon remained unperturbed, sending an elbow at the coming fist before rotating his body again.

In an instant, he found himself past Femi’s guard.

“SCRAM!” Femi roared, slamming his hands together, “Geb’s Rage. Quake!”

Dyon ducked, narrowly escaping the reverberating technique before flipping back onto his hands and sending a double kick toward Femi’s gauntlet’s.

His feet slammed into their tough exterior, but Femi had already recovered to slam his fists downward.

Dyon sensed danger. His muscles twitched even in his awkward handstand as his body twisted, narrowly avoiding the strike. But, the quake flowed through the air, bombarding his sides and agitating his wound.

Blood spilt from Dyon’s lips.

“I’LL ONLY GET STRONGER!” Femi’s voice boomed as his body seemed to be glowing a fiercer and fiercer red with each passing moment. His strength was climbing, and rapidly at that.

“I’ll show you was a true top ten can do.” Femi sneered. His fists slammed together as Dyon collected himself. “Geb’s domain. Gravity Falls. Stage 1.”

Dyon’s feet immediately sank into the ground by a few inches, his weight doubling.

“I’d like to see you dodge now.” Femi sneered.

Most of the spectators were only there for an entertaining show. But, how could Ri and Madeleine feel the same way?

How could anyone know the limits of Dyon’s power more than them, and yet they could clearly see him handicapping himself. He wasn’t even replenishing his stamina!

“You’re so stubborn!” Ri grit her teeth as he watched Dyon’s fists meet Femi’s again and again.

Dyon didn’t even practice any martial world fist techniques! What was he doing!

But down below, Dyon seemed to have tossed everything from his mind as his savage aura continued to build. All he could think of was killing Femi.

However, the evidence was showing more and more that that would be impossible. Because even as Dyon’s desire grew, Femi’s power grew.

A blast of red aura erupted from Femi’s fist as his power reached a saturated level. “Die!”

Dyon’s eyes narrowed as he crossed his arms. But, it was to no avail. He was sent flying, his feet barely touching the ground with its tips as he went.

Femi flashed forward, his body moving much too quickly for his size as he appeared above Dyon. His fists slammed downward, causing Dyon’s crossed arms to once again display their uselessness.

Dyon’s back crashed into the arena floor, burying him within as Femi stood atop.

“This is the only position you’re fit to be in.” Femi sneered. “Watch carefully. This is the strength of a true top ten ranker.”

A massive fist coated in a blinding crystal gauntlet careened downward, looking to end Dyon’s life.

Femi’s laugh reverberated through the arena as his fists crashed into Dyon again and again.

“Come on! Get up! Weren’t you the real number one?! What’s going on!?” Femi laughed, a rage permeating through his voice.

Anyone could tell that he was more angry about the slight against his name that he was about his sister dying. There was no question.

Blood flew from Dyon’s face and body, coating Femi’s fists. But, he didn’t seem intent on stopped.

King Belmont and King Aumen watched from the air. Dyon had accepted this battle, so King Belmont didn’t see it fit for him to intervene and King Aumen could hardly care about this battle any longer. What true great existence would accept such a pathetic disciple?

Tau Aumen was maybe the most pissed. Not because Dyon was losing, but because his losing so easily meant that he had wasted his time planning all of this. What was the use in his effort if Femi would have just won the battle anyway? Everything seemed completely useless now and he had lost two wives out of it.

It wasn’t as though he loved either, but who wouldn’t want a member of the six beauties as a wife? And Ode may have not been at that level, but she was only a step below. She would have done nicely when he was bored of Eboni.

And yet, he had lost them both because of this Dyon who couldn’t even beat the worst among the top ten. People liked to say they were all in the same tier of strength, but Tau found that to be ridiculous. If that was the case, their rankings would fluctuate more than they had.

Over the past two or so decades, with the exception of Saru Shruti and Zabia Jafari who had come out of nowhere, their rankings stayed practically the same. It was only this campaign that Lionel had passed Tau, and from what Tau had heard, that was because Lionel had found a legacy temple – something that garnered bonus points. After all, campaigns were all about contribution, and what could contribute more than the power boost provided by a legacy?

The fact that Femi had consistently been at the bottom of the top ten wasn’t a coincidence. Maybe if they only had a one-year sample size, it would make sense to say such a thing. But, over decades, with at least one attempt a year, weren’t they pretty much set in stone?

That said, there were some in the top ten that were decidedly younger than the rest… Lionel was barely over 20. And Saru and Zabia were just approaching 30. That was how you really told the difference between them.

Femi’s fists finally stopped, his breathing was labored as he turned a sinister eye to Ri and Madeleine. “King Aumen, would you allow me to execute them as well?”

King Aumen turned a nonchalant eye toward Dyon’s tower, “Do whatever you’d like.”

Suddenly a steady and unlabored voice rang out that froze Femi’s advance, “Your punches could hardly scratch an itch. Is this your so-called tyrannical strength?”

Femi sneered, “And here I thought this little mouse was already dead. Did you like getting beaten up so much that you stayed silent? Let me accompany you then!”

Femi’s fist flew downward again, pouring all of his power into a single strike.

“More of the same?”

All this time, in all of Femi’s excitement, he had missed a single glaring thing. Not once had Dyon closed his eyes.

Through the beatings, the flurry of fists and the pain, he had watched it all happen.

Dyon’s hand shot forward as a red-black aura began to drip from him. Crystal covered scales sprouted along his body as his height expanded again and again.

BOOM!

Femi’s momentum was stifled in an instant.

Shock.

Complete and unbridled shock.

Dyon stood leisurely, spitting blood away from his lips. Now, he was even a meter taller than Femi himself, towering over him.

His skin was permeated with robust black scales and his eyes were a blood red. Veins of gold pumped even more vigorously as Dyon’s hand clenched Femi’s hand even tighter.

Dyon wasn’t masochist. But, he wasn’t entirely rational either. He had been dead set on crushing Femi with his body, to the point where he had refused to use his soul or energy cultivation. Even when he was losing, his eyes flared with an anger that never ceased.

So, he used Femi and broke through to a new realm in an instant.

Demon Emperor’s Will was divided into three acts with three stages each. The first act was a power amplification of two, then four, then eight. With Dyon’s peak essence gathering level body, anyone could see how formidable that was.

But, the second act was fundamentally different. Although it too started with a power amplification of sixteen, there was an aspect of will comprehension needed to reach it and it required intent level demonic will!

This was why Dyon had allowed himself to be beat. He was relishing in the anger. He was delving into his fury. He was embodying was it meant to be a demon as he allowed his killing intent to build to a nearly unbearable level.

Although he had yet to reach the perfection stage of this act, it was more than enough. He would slowly come to understand that Act Two of Demon Emperor’s Will was much more than a power amplification. But for now, all he wanted to do was brawl.

Femi roared in agony as his hand was crushed under Dyon’s palm, but the worst was yet to come.

In one swift motion, Dyon ripped his arm out of its socket. “You had a great time thinking you had won, hm?”

Dyon’s music intent laced taunts made Femi’s roars of agony amplify. It was as though a demon had climbed into his body and begun to violently quake all of his inner organs.

Blood gushed from his shoulder, but he didn’t even have the proper consciousness to realize such a thing. The pain was too much and all at once, all at the same time. He didn’t know what he was feeling, where. He just knew despair.

Dyon’s massive fist flew toward his other shoulder. The sickening sound of crushed bone and ripping flesh resounded through the arena.

Femi’s tyrannical body meant nothing in front of Dyon! A mere much had ripped a hole so large in his shoulder that his beating heart shone through his side.

How Femi managed to remain standing, no one knew. But the breath of the crowd had been taken away. Was this Femi really within the top ten? Was it really so easy to beat someone on that level? Just what was going on?!

“Stay your hand! This was meant to be an execution, not an opportunity for you to gain freedom!” King Aumen’s voice boomed through the stadium as celestial energy descended upon Dyon.

“I’d advise you not act against my citizens,” King Belmont waved his hand, dispelling King Aumen’s efforts.

“You dare?!” King Aumen roared. Everything here was nothing less than a slap to his face. This was exactly what he didn’t want and something his very own son had been plotting to stop! A spot in the top 10 was too important for their planet to lose, they had already had two other members of the former top 10 booted out by Saru Shruti and Zabia Jafari, they couldn’t afford to lose anymore! The award for this tournament was too important!

Dyon turned a demonic gaze toward King Aumen, “Shut your mouth you shit King!”

A surge of soul pressure the likes of which few had ever felt before covered the arena.

King Aumen felt his soul shake and threaten to shatter! He quickly protected himself, flying backward tens of miles at a time, completely forgetting that had he just attacked Dyon’s soul in that instant, despite their soul strength difference, he would have severely injured Dyon.

But, he was too shocked to think about something like that. No one had soul strength so powerful to even dare to outright attack with it! It was the reason why the soul was so vulnerable, it was too fragile even if it was powerful. And yet, Dyon had nearly shattered the soul of a celestial level expert with a mere shout.

The silence in the was palpable even as Dyon’s fists rained holes into Femi. Dyon seemed oblivious to the commotion he had caused and the truth was that his state of mind was too clouded. He would never have risked such a thing if his demonic will wasn’t slowly taking over.

Did he just make King Aumen run away?… What was going on?…

Dyon’s entire body became layered in Femi’s blood. In fact, Femi had long since died, unable to sustain his life force with so many holes running through him, and yet Dyon kept punching. His anger just wouldn’t dissipate.

Dyon roared into the skies.

His voice was so powerful, so laced with hatred and anger and some of the audience directly died.

There were no protective arrays. Why would there be? The arenas were so far from the crowd and the contestants were mere essence gatherers at most, how could their attacks have a chance at reaching so far?

But Dyon’s had. And they paid for it with their lives.

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