Reaper of the Martial World

Book 9: Chapter 98: Prince (3)

Nothing about Oshire had changed. He was still a middle-aged man, cleanly shaven with long black hair and deep golden eyes hidden behind crystal framed glasses shimmering with a slight green.

However, somehow, everything had changed.

The skies opened up. Clouds of thin gold descended, radiating with dignity. Soon, one figure after another began to appear. Even with his divine sense, Dyon couldn’t count them all in a short time. They seemed to extend to infinity, a bloodline so deep and so prestigious that Dyon’s body refused to stop trembling.

Dyon had planned for so many things. He thought of a possibility where Connery had hidden his power. He thought of what might happen if he managed to contact the main Sapientia Clan, and accounted for such. He diligently laid the groundwork before even daring to come here. Yet, he could have never expected such a result.

Connery didn’t hide his power at all, he had always displayed his true cultivation. There were no hidden channels here… Because there didn’t need to be.

The reality that a mere higher celestial, an existence Dyon had long been able to pinch to death with little to no effort, could casually stand before him without a hint of fear was more frustrating than Dyon could put into words.

Maybe it was only now he understood that it wasn’t just information wasn’t the only thing that made it impossible to build an Emperor God Clan in a single generation… This… This Faith… This was what became the roadblock for so many young ambitious talents.

At this moment, the Mortal Alliance army had already retreated, using Dyon’s timely warning to hover a distance away from Planet Ragnor. But, even with this distance, a cold sweat matted their backs. This power… It was too much.

The citizens of Odin City looked up in shock. They understood better than anyone what this phenomenon was. They had seen many displays of Faith before… But never like this.

Looking toward Dyon’s trembling body, Oshire didn’t have much of a reaction. One would expect to see a gloating expression, or maybe a hint of pride at the very least, but there was no such light in Oshire’s gaze.

He no longer had to pretend to be the ambitious tyrant that was Connery. For the first time in too long, he could be himself. And Oshire wasn’t that kind of man.

“Though it’s a bit shameless, I’m too weak and untalented to use any other means… I can only say that though I am sorry, I cannot move from the path I’ve chosen for myself. It’s already much too late for that.

“What I can do for you is give you an opportunity. Young Madeleine’s Sapientia blood is nobler than you know. And, you should be aware of the fact we of the Sapientia Clan do not hinder marriages with those from weak Clans. As long as you are a genius, we prefer those with weaker backgrounds.

“Through young Madeleine, there’s no issue at all with you gaining the favor of the Sapientia Clan, you’re more than qualified. As a weak Prince, such bureaucratic matters are about all I can guarantee you. How you fair the rest of the way will depend on yourself.

“If you reject… There’s nothing more I can do for you…”

Dyon’s palms opened and closed as though he was trying to stretch his ligaments. His body still involuntarily trembled, nothing he did seemed to stop it. It was as though he was a mortal in chilly weather, except for the fact he felt uncomfortably hot. The feeling was odd.

“What’s your real name?” Dyon asked, doing his best to keep his voice steady, but failing.

“It’s unimportant… But I’m sure you’d find out soon enough.” Looking toward Dyon with a bland expression, he responded. “My name is Oshire. Oshire Sapientia.”

Dyon shook his head. “No, it’s very important. Names define us. If your ancestors didn’t carry the name Sapientia, and mine didn’t carry the name Sacharro, would either of us be in this situation?”

“Another unimportant truth… What is, is, and what has been is long gone. There’s no such thing as what could have been… What could have been simply isn’t. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Dyon shook his head once more. “Humans are a constant reflection of their past. To assume it to be meaningless only leads to an uncontrollable cycle, your Fate will never be your own if you think like this.

“… Also… Humans can be thankful of their past too.” Dyon looked deeply into Oshire’s eyes. “Even if the choice was presented before me, even knowing what would happen here today, I would never give up the Sacharro name to become a Sapientia.”

Oshire sighed, feeling as though Dyon had made his answer clear.

“You cannot fathom the strength of Faith of a Planet Grade Empire. We are not like those Alliances. Their path requires a splitting of their Faith… The result is a lesser amount than the sum of their parts. However, the Sapientia Clan is as one. Even if I do not wield the greatest Faith of my Sapientia Clan, I am still a direct descendant of our strongest bloodline…

“Do you really want to die here?”

Dyon stopped flexing his palms, an unbridled confidence wafting from his arrogant figure standing in the skies. Suddenly, his body seemed to have stopped trembling entirely… He became as steady as a looming mountain.

In that moment, a new world projected out from Dyon. The image of Planet Ragnor shattered, leaving nothing but an endless grassy plain with several shimmering array hanging from the skies.

Still, the eyes of everyone was attracted to a singular manifestation, staring down arrogantly from the skies.

To one side of its back, sat five white wings, to the other, sat five black wings. A step further, there were six black-gold haloes, hovering with enigmatic images throbbing with power. All around this humanoid manifestation, six Primordial Yin circled around its feet.

“I have no intention of dying. Prince or not… Planet Grade Empire or not… Your head will bow to the Sacharro Clan.”

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