Grand Ancestral Bloodlines

Ryu's fingers trembled, delicate royal blue Heavenly Patterns dancing about them as he caught Arteur's final strike between his fingers.

'A shame, just a bit more…'

Arteur's pupils constricted when he sensed his sword creak beneath Ryu's strength. For a moment he felt like it might truly shatter. His heart shuddered as his gaze met Ryu's indifference. All his strength dispersed into the surroundings, sweeping by Ryu had and causing his robes and hair to flutter. But, outside of this, Ryu himself didn't seem to react much at all.

As far as Ryu was concerned, he was only using Arteur to hone his fists. Let alone someone in the Middle Dao Pedestal Realm, even someone of the Higher Dao Pedestal Realm would be hard pressed to threaten his life after the training he had undergone.

It had been a long time since Ryu put his head down to a grindstone and refined him combat prowess to its absolute limits. At this point, even he wasn't quite certain of where his limits lied. But, Arteur most definitely wasn't it. If this was all this banquet had to offer, then it would be boring.

With a flick of his finger, Arteur took two heavy steps backward, his crimson flame threatening to shatter the ground beneath his feet. However, the formations that twirled about the surroundings immediately solidified it all, dispersing Arteur's strength as though it was nothing.

Arteur looked down at his feet and to his sword. His anger had become a blank look by the time he looked toward Ryu again, a deep smile hidden within his eyes.

"I don't know why it is you chose to target me, but I'll make you regret it." Arteur said evenly.

"You want to know why?" Ryu replied smoothly, his voice deep and rumbling. "It's because I don't respect you."

Ryu seemed to glide by Arteur with just a single step, his movements indifferent and fluid to an extreme. Just looking at him made one feel as though he was one with the Dao, a reality that made the fact he wasn't in the Dao Pedestal Realm all the more baffling.

Arteur chuckled, the killing intent in his gaze thickening to the point it became palpable. A foggy crimson qi hung around him. For a moment, he almost looked like a member of the Berserk branch in look and feel.

"Hey handsome! Come sit with me!"

Ryu swept a glance over toward the voice before directly ignoring it. Let alone the fact that it had come from Syriah, even if it was a class A beauty, he would still ignore it. What a joke, he was already doing his best to get back into the good graces of his Ailsa, he didn't have time to end up right at square one again. As far as he was concerned, there was no new beauty he could find that would be better than his Ailsa anyway.

Ryu strolled through the banquet tables that had been thrown into chaos through the battles. The smell of blood hung quite pungently in the air, however, no one seemed to be moving to clean it up. It was as barbaric as it could be.

These Martial Gods mixed food, drink and murder as though there was no need to place separations between them. It was a striking image, indeed.

Ryu chose a table that had been mostly cleared of individuals. Blood pooled along the floor, several corpses lying with eyes wide open, the last light of their gazes filled with unwillingness.

Without a care, Ryu sat at one of these tables. He picked up the meaty leg of a well cooked beast and chose a clean plate. With immaculate etiquette, he devoured the food before him. One would have never guessed that there was any problem at all.

To Ryu's right, just three seats down, a young man who hadn't even gotten a chance to stand before he died fell over and plopped into the blood below. But, Ryu was completely unmoved, satiating his ravenous bloodlines with each bite.

The sight of such a handsome young man doing something that could only be counted as barbaric was imprinted onto all of their souls. For a moment, even aside from his battle prowess and his looks, Ryu had become the center of attention without saying a single word. The savage nature of his actions was like an irreparable brand on their souls.

Syriah, who had had ever intention of throwing a temper tantrum, shuddered. They had all been indifferent to the violence around them, but they had still been a distance away. After all, the blood and carnage hadn't reached their table. There was still an air of spectator versus participant hanging around them.

Yet, not only had Ryu not shed the label of participant, he basked in the feeling. The scenery was no less impactful than if Ryu had chosen to bathe himself in a shower of blood.

Unbeknownst to them all, a silent fear took root in their hearts and an apprehension took hold. Syriah's raised hand, already prepared to slam into the table beneath her, suddenly and subtly lowered, eventually touching the fabric that covered it all so gently that she almost looked like a real lady for a moment.

Among them all, the only one who had a gaze that glowed upon seeing this was Tybalt. It felt like he was witnessing something extraordinary, but even he couldn't put his finger on why that was. It made his fingers itch and his mind spin, his tongue imperceptibly wetting his drying lips.

Above them all, the Overseers and King Adonis could feel the shift. However, it was far more obvious to them all.

It was like the Fate of this Plane was all twisting and bending in Ryu's direction as though that was the only place they deemed worthy of their presence.

King Adonis' gaze narrowed, looking toward Ryu truly for the first time. This was no casual gaze, it was the tried and true observation of a World Sea Realm expert. And yet, Ryu continued to eat without even a single hitch in his actions.

'… This child is dangerous.'

A flash of killing intent pervaded King Adonis' irises.