Reaper of the Martial World

Book 5: Chapter 32: Dare (2)

historical

Dravil sat quietly, observing the man he had heard so much about over the last few weeks. Quite frankly, he wasn’t sure how to feel. Dyon seemed to be the worst kind of enemy to have. He had easily gone from domineering hot-head, to the cool-headed smiling man in front of him even to the point of being willing to have this meeting. 

There were a few possibilities that Dravil thought for this, but he couldn’t be sure. Was Dyon cautious? Was he planning something? Or was he bluffing?

However, what Dravil wouldn’t do is underestimate the man in front of him. There were very few who could be in his presence and hold his eye contact unperturbed for so long, and that number was even fewer when it was held to those his age. In fact, even with Dyon’s nonchalant appearance, it was Dravil, himself, who felt a faint pressure he couldn’t explain.

“We could sit here and stare into each other’s eyes,” Dyon said, breaking the silence and tension, “Or, we could discuss why you wanted this meeting.”

Dyon’s nonchalant words to their first son seemed to anger the Uidah camp. With their cultivations, they were privy to this conversation. Apparently, Dravil didn’t care about hiding much.

The sons and daughters, however, had no reaction.

“Do you know something about this tower?” Dravil asked after a few moment’s pause.

Dyon smirked, looking off into the distance at the smooth black pillar that seemed to rise up into the sky to an unfathomable height.

“Ah. So, you all have been camping out here for this old thing? Why’s that? Aren’t you meant to conquer it last? Then again, considering you’ve already stormed through so many of our towers, maybe you were just making a pre-emptive move.

“Ai, it pains me to see my small universe about to be conquered.”

Madeleine, noticing a familiar smile, did her best to withhold her giggle, maintaining her noble aura.

“Indeed,” Dravil responded with a sigh, “Usually we would conquer it last. But you see, a former fifth son of ours brought up an interesting point.”

Dyon’s features showed no fluctuations, but how could he not know that Dravil brought up fifth son on purpose?

“Oh? And what was that?”

“It seemed like a small point, even meaningless, at first. But, the more I thought about it, the more intriguing it became.

“Did you know that despite all of the gates the Uidah have been in contact with, this is the only one with an odd number of towers? In fact, it was the most dangerous tower environment we had ever seen, until, for some reason, the fields of spatial tears disappeared a few years ago.”

Dyon nodded, “I did indeed notice that. How odd, right?”

“Mm. Indeed.

“This same fifth son also tells me you were quite interested in this tower before that changed as well.”

“Me? Impossible. Believe it or not, this is only my second time stepping into the gates. How could I have done such a thing on my first go at it despite all those who came before me?”

Dravil’s eyes narrowed at these words. Dyon’s words were complete bullshit, but at least part of them was true. His last campaign really would have been his first!

“Ai, it must be the fact I defeated your second daughter by fluke accident. You’ve raised your appraisal of me much too high.”

Not many missed Dyon’s point about defeat Silvyr. In fact, the uproar that spread through the Uidah camp palpably increased the hostility between the two parties. Even Silvyr’s lustful gaze darkened. It was clear that Dyon was treating all of this like a joke.

A snort tore through the atmosphere, “Imagine bragging about defeating a woman, and such a weak one at that in the presence of first son. Go and find your balls before you decide to speak in front of us again.” Second son’s words ripped any semblance of diplomacy in its entirety.

Dyon playfully frowned, “Ah, that hurts. Since we’re negotiating in the spirit of peace though, how about I just let you off with a few lost fingers after this is all over? Your clan won’t be too mad at that, will they?”

“What did you say?!”

Dyon shook his head, “You’re right. An entire hand is likely more suffice. That way you can match with your other brother.”

Dyon’s words caused Kaeghan to tremble violently with anger. He was almost unable to stop himself from leaping to the other side of table.

“Why are you getting angry at a clown?” Fourth son looked between second son and Dyon with disdain, “They’re meant to be funny, not angering.”

Dyon didn’t bother with fourth son’s words, he only continued to watch Dravil.

“What exactly is stopping me from catching you or someone you care about now to find out the truth? Why exactly are you so confident?” Dravil felt that this Dyon was unpredictable. Maybe if he asked straightforwardly, he’d actually get a real answer.

Dyon put on his best thinking impression, “Well, for one, none of you here are a match for me. So, such a thing is impossible.

“Secondly, you defeated my wives a year ago, and I have a feeling that it was just barely. With their rate of improvement, I highly doubt that even if I wasn’t here, that you’d be able to stop them anymore.

“Thirdly, if I really wanted to, I could make sure none of you laid a hand on any one of me or my allies.

“It’s that simple really.”

Second and fourth son’s eyes widened when they heard Dyon refer to his wives. A faint and irrational anger stoked in their eyes, threatening to boil over. But, what really set them off was Dyon’s shameless comments about his own strength. How could they tolerate such a thing?