Rebirth of the Nameless Immortal God

Firstly, this matter was more complicated than it seemed on the surface. Dyon's real opponents weren't these Immortal Gods. Even if they were Immortal Gods, he still saw them as ants, albeit ants that were a bit larger.

His true opponents were the Heavens. He might have broken free from it by sacrificing his soul, but things wouldn't end so easily.

It was fine if he laid out diligent plans for up until he regained his memories, but once he did, the Heavens would have its sights completely focused on him. What would happen in such a case if he had pre planned routes to take? Wouldn't it be too easy for the Heavens to cause everything to go awry?

Comparatively, if even Dyon himself didn't know what all of his next steps were, it would be harder for the Heavens to intervene. After all, it wasn't as though the Heavens were a tangible being, the methods by which it could interfere for enigmatic and difficult to comprehend even for Immortal Gods.

Dyon had to be quick, clever, and flexible. He could constrain himself to a single plan because those ants that were dreaming of taking down his legend were receiving help from a beast even he didn't dare to underestimate.

As for what the second reason was…? It was a reason that should those ants be aware of it, they just might spew blood in the midst of overflowing emotions of rage and anger.

His thoughts were simple… Where would the fun in that be?

He had spent too long unmatched, unrivaled. There was nothing he loved more than to conquer a new challenge, to subdue a new mountain, to grasp a new height. It made his heart beat wildly with excitement and made his blood rush like the crashing rides of a tsunami.

It was the reason he mastered so many disciplines in his youth. He didn't care about the weapon, the method, the profession… As long as he could crush others, that was his greatest happiness.

In the end, the Heavens were his only remaining opponent, and this was why alchemy became his only remaining love. Only through alchemy could he directly challenge the Heavens again and again and again.

And in this lifetime… He would crush the Heavens as well to the point even it didn't dare to raise its head!

In a remote bubble world of the immortal plane, a delicate beauty with flowing violet hair could be found playing the zither. Her slender fingers plucked at the strings with an elegant grace, producing a mesmerizing tale of grand adventures and tall aspirations.

At that moment, the Sparkling Zither Pavilion was filled with a crowd of people, but there wasn't a drop of sound outside the plucking of these strings. They all seemed to have completely lost their minds in the story she was weaving, unable to extricate themselves.

The truth was that there were many other beauties in this place, some of them could even be found on the laps of these patrons. But, the most attention they received was an absentminded hand pinching at their plump butts or slipping into the deep ravines of their cleavage. And, even then, these experienced women could easily tell that the men who took such bold, perverted actions were secretly pretending that the sensitive body parts they touched were actually those of another woman entirely.

It was at that moment that another man suddenly appeared. The entry of another so late into the game, despite the fact he didn't truly make any noise, filled them all with displeasure. Even though all he had done was walk through a door, they still felt that he had already ruined the atmosphere. Let alone walk, most of them didn't even dare to breathe too hard for fear that her magical fingers would stop.

However, if this made them angry, then what happened next was several levels more infuriating.

"What the hell are you doing here?" The man said without reserve, drowning out the music. "I set you free, yet you end up in a brothel? I hope you have a good explanation, or else I'll kill you now."

The words of the young man were emotionless, but there was a cold edge to them that felt like an ice blade piercing into their hearts.

The music stopped abruptly and one of the strings of the beauty's zither broke, filling the air with a TWANG sound that travelled through their bones.

Amethyst felt as though she had been frozen in time. The weight on her chest right now made her feel as though an elephant was stomping down on her. There was no emotion in the voice she had just heard, she could even feel the killing intent, but it was exactly this that made shivers run down her spine.

Murdering on a whim… controlling life without a thought…. killing to the point of apathy…

Her fingers uncontrollably trembled and a cold sweat fell down her delicate back. Even if she wanted to speak now, she had no ability to do so.

Of course, she recognized the young man. Who else could it be if not Dyon?

She had believed that this young man was running and would never dare show his face out in the open like this, but never could she have imagined that he would come here and so casually at that. He didn't seem to care that the void coalition had set a bounty on his head.

As for Dyon himself, his words really weren't a bluff. If Amethyst didn't have a good explanation for her actions, he really would kill her without a thought.

He wasn't some mad man. It wasn't as though he went around to brothels in his free time, slaughtering women who made their own choices simply because he didn't like it. Quite frankly, he simply didn't care what these women did. It had nothing to do with him.

But, Amethyst was different. As far as he was concerned, she was no longer representing herself alone, she was representing his wife. By laws of seniority, she was half a master to his wife.

His wife's master? Working in a brothel?

She was better off dead.