Rebirth of the Nameless Immortal God

This was what Dyon had been doing. For almost 100 years, every day, he would send a batch of the rodents to the second floor. He would then provide them with a quarter of a drop of celestial hamster blood and allow them to incubate.

Over this time, many of the rodents died. Although Dyon tried to treat them as humanely as possible, there was only so much he could do. He treated them well while they weren't in incubation, feeding them foods they could never dream of, but he could only imagine the amount of pain they endured on the second floor. Still, Dyon couldn't allow a frail heart to act as a roadblock to him.

However, it had paid off. Of the original several hundred thousand, only just above 6000 remained. 5000 of them had progressed to the Earth Grade, while the remaining 1000 had entered the Heaven Grade. In fact, there were about 50 poised to break that final wall and transcend.

Once they became transcendent grade beasts, Dyon would finally be confident enough to feed them the Fate Breaking Pill. If he succeeded, the war drums would finally begin to beat. His first true campaign would begin.

**

The months seemed to flow like water. Still, the name Dyon Sacharro remained at the tips of everyone's tongue. How could it be so easy to forget the name of a such a man?

True Gods were existences who had the highest chance of becoming Higher Existences in the future, unless word of their death spread, they would never be forgotten!

Still, Dyon didn't seem to care that the public was awaiting his arrival. He spent his days either slowly nurturing his empire, or teasing his wives. It became a simple time for him.

Eventually, the anxiety he felt drained away day after day. His spirit was overwhelmed by a sense of calm and comfort. That fiery, youthful spirit that always seemed ready to flame to life became smaller.

These days, Dyon remembered memories of his father a lot. A cold, stoic man who didn't seem to have any emotions of his own.

Yet, it was that same man that always wrapped his arms around him as a child, that same man who was a sturdy shoulder Dyon could always lean upon.

Though Dyon was now far more powerful than his father had ever been in a literal sense, he felt that he was leagues away from General Sacharro in terms of character. How sad such a reality was when he had already lived more than double the length of time his father had.

This was why Dyon realized the pursuit of power was too blinding. He wasted so many years of his life chasing after something that, maybe, wasn't entirely meaningless, but definitely wasn't what was most important. He lacked the perspective a mortal with a short life would have… He took his time for granted.

Dyon came to understand this just a short time ago. It was for this reason that he chose to name his fledging empire the Mortal Alliance… It was why he named their convening the Mortal Meeting and also why he called their place of evolution the Mortal Hall.

He never wanted to forget what he learned in these years again. He never wanted to forget what it meant to be Mortal, because in a lot of ways, the weak were far more impressive than the strong.

Dyon had no way of knowing for sure, but he had a feeling that if his father had faced the reality of the Chaos Flame, that he wouldn't have flinched. Dyon's father was the very man who, even as a mortal, faced the threats of the martial world with his back as straight as a line between the earth and heavens. That was the kind of man Dyon aspired to be…

On this particular day, two years after Dyon returned from the golden flame mystical world, he suddenly shot into the skies and roared at the top of his lungs.

Not just Soul Planet, but even the very solar system it sat in seemed to quake under his might.

The barrier to Emperor grade Presence shattered for the second time in Dyon's life, causing a qualitative change within himself.

Even without cultivating for even a moment during these past two years, Dyon's strength had suddenly leapt forward by an unimaginable degree.

What did it mean for an individual who had their Presence fused into every fiber of their being to suddenly break such a watershed barrier? Even Dyon didn't know just yet, but he was itching to find out.

"It's time." Dyon looked up into the skies, seemingly oblivious to the countless individuals below looking up to him in reverence.

By now, the outer sect was flowing with disciples. Although they could only count as a few hundred, a drop in the bucket compared to the monstrous Clans Dyon planned to face, the growth was undeniable.

This time was complete unlike the past where Dyon was just a fleeting legend they knew little about. After two years, Dyon became an idol not just the disciples, but even normal citizens revered. His Laws of Order had caused a wave of change, change that almost resulted in him being worshiped as a God.

Dyon looked down, smiling lightly to the disciples below before disappearing.

As though his roar had been a call, numerous familiar faces began to gather in Soul Hall. His wives, Meiying, and even many of the Demon Generals were no exception.

"Boss, it's about time!" Thadius boisterously laughed. "The celestial floors are in chaos, you know things always get wild when a ranking tournament is coming up soon. Everybody's scrambling for a place."

What Thadius didn't say was that the Tower was synced with Ancient Battlefield. No one knew how exactly they were connected or related, but what was clear was that every time the Ancient Battlefield prepped itself to be opened, the Tower would respond in kind. The result was a free for all the likes of which even the powerful wouldn't come out unscathed.

Dyon smiled. Although he didn't say a word, everyone could sense the change in his eyes. An oppressive, almost uncontrollable aura spilled from him, even his skin seemed to glow.

'Did he get more handsome again?' The three sister wives looked at each other before giggling lightly.

"Master Sacharro, it's been two years, can you unseal me now?" Damaris suddenly called out, her pleading voice lightening the atmosphere and causing an airy laughter.

With a wave of his hand, Damaris was lightened of her burden. A repressed Draconic aura swept through the hall, but it seemed to be immediately stifled by Dyon's Presence. In fact, Dyon pretended as though he hadn't sensed anything at all.

"I guess it's about time we go wreak some havoc again…" He said softly. "… It seems they've been taking the Demon Generals too lightly lately…"