Rebirth of the Nameless Immortal God

"Where do you think you're going! How is this proof at all!" The little boy, Ur Aumen seemed furious with Dyon's disregard of his family. "For all we know, you manipulated the images to show what you wanted!"

Dyon looked back as though he was looking at a complete idiot. "You're a kid, so I won't be too difficult on you. That said, when I was your age, I would never think to say something so stupid.

"I very clearly explained that arrays record the laws of the universe. The only way I could have faked those images is if I was not only a saint capable of manipulating saint energy, I would also have to have the ability to use Horus family techniques and Geb family techniques. That's on top of being a capable enough refiner to recreate the tools they used, all while also being able to use the techniques of my wives as well.

"It is possible for me to create a fake image that simply copied the look of those techniques, but then it wouldn't feel real. Which is why your father is so ashen faced right now.

"I admit that I'm pretty impressive. But, I'm not that impressive." Dyon snorted, waving good bye. "Oh, and King Clyte. You'd better give up all thoughts of taking away Delia. She's my wife's little sister, and so she's mine as well. She's not under Earth's protection, she's under mine. If you'd like to play a few rounds with my Demon Generals with your pitiful cultivation, you're free to try your luck."

Although Dyon didn't say any more words after this, his anger was far from sated. When he had signed off Planet Deimos to death, he meant it.

However, at the same time, he knew he needed more control. He had handicapped himself in order to improve his body cultivation prowess in his fight with Femi, but he also understood that that wasn't something he could sustain for a long period of time.

The Demon Emperor's Will technique was an odd one of give and take. In the beginning, as long as Dyon increased his body's strength by absorbing more of the Demon Sage's blood, he could use higher levels of the technique with increased ease. However, there was a limit to this. Why? Because the technique itself is an amplifier to your body's power. If Dyon was making his body stronger, to then use higher levels of the technique, the problem became clear. If his body was stronger, wouldn't it be even more strenuous to amplify it?

This was why higher levels of this technique didn't require a stronger body, but rather better understanding and higher efficiency. Dyon could breach the second act, true, but at what cost? In the brief moment he had used it, his bones had nearly collapsed in on themselves and his muscles had almost ripped from their tendons.

Clearly Dyon had the power, but what he needed now was experience. He had to reach a deeper understanding of what it meant to be a demon emperor.

In the end though, Dyon wasn't worried about the final stage of the tournament. The so-called geniuses of this universe were far too weak. If he hadn't refused to use his energy and soul cultivation against Femi, he would have won with absolute ease. He simply had too much of an advantage, especially when it came to his techniques. While his opponents might be lucky to have learned a lower heaven level technique, Dyon had whole libraries of divine level techniques to choose from. There was simply no competition here, and he had made that clear.

Dyon was, of course, mostly correct. In fact, he couldn't be blamed for his assessment given the information he had.

The only problem was that not all of his remaining opponents were of this universe.

**

Little Lyla's playful giggle filled the dining room hall as she played in Madeleine's lap. She had long since heard of this other big sister of hers, but this was her first time meeting her. That said, they seemed to form an instantaneous bond. After all, with Lyla's abilities, it took little effort for her to see through people and in terms of Madeleine, who wouldn't immediately fall for such an adorable little girl?

"Little Black," Madeleine reached over and pinched a small boy's cheeks, "Or should I call you Zaire now. Look at you, you're half grown up!"

Zaire grinned brightly. He was currently sitting on Clara's lap, but it was clear that Clara was decidedly worse at dealing with children. She felt uncomfortable and awkward. The truth was that she was very much used to children crying when they saw her cold eyes, but Lyla and Zaire didn't seem to mind at all.

It warmed her heart to see this, but in the same vein, she wasn't all that great at expressing that she felt that way either.

That aside, the rest of the room was filled with familiar faces. They had chosen to come back to the mansion that Dyon had rented instead of stay behind to see how the Cavositas decided to clean up the mess that was the last round.

In reality, everyone who had meant to take part in that final round had died with the except of Ri, Madeleine, and the remaining top 20 members who had flashed away in time. Unfortunately for them, that left one spot unaccounted for. In fact, if you counted Femi's death, there were two spots.

So, it was likely that they'd decide to round up those who had lost in previous rounds, and had forgone participating in the death round, to battle for these two remaining spots. That said, many hardly cared, they were only eager for the final day.

Suddenly, the door of the dining hall opened. But, when everyone turned their gaze over, there was not a soul there.

A flash of purple-gold enveloped the entire mansion, causing even more confusion to pervade the atmosphere.

However, everyone sighed a breath of relief when a familiar boy walked out with a light smile on his face. That said, the fact there were now two of them in this room still left a confusion on the faces of many, and considering he had a beautiful middle-aged woman to his side who was looking around with just as much confusion, their reaction was very much warranted.

Before anyone could say anything, the sound of shattering glass filled the quiet atmosphere.

"Delia?" Eli looked over worried.

However, Delia was in a daze as her eyes glistened with tears.

With speed that shocked many of them, Delia instantly appeared before the woman who was now looking back at her with the same gaze.

"Delia?" The woman spoke in such a soft voice that even them as cultivators hardly heard. It was as though she was scared if she said it too loudly, that her guess would be wrong.

Her small and trembling hand touched Delia's soft cheeks, trying to make sure that this moment was real.

Just an instant before, she had been in a world of cold ice, sitting on a throne that was little else but a prison. And now she was in front of her daughter? Nothing seemed real anymore.

However, she never got a response to her question… Not verbally anyway…

Delia couldn't speak. All she could do was wrap her arms around her mother, crying into her bosom.