Rebirth of the Nameless Immortal God

Dyon couldn't be bothered to care. With a flick of his wrist, his glaive shot up from the dark waters below. If one didn't know better, they would think he was wielding a normally sized glaive instead of one that was already ten kilometers long.

Anak's unconscious body lay on the end of his blade, seemingly lifeless. He really had put his everything into his final strike, all for him to fail in the end.

In truth, Dyon wanted nothing more than to kill him. Even if he couldn't kill him, he would have wanted to at least turn him into a slave. But, he knew that was impossible.

The only reason Dyon could easily enslave characters like Yandevere and the kitsune geniuses was because their Clans were weak.

For the kitsune, this was obvious. They were from a mere 30th ranked quadrant despite being supreme grade beasts – they had simply declined too much.

As for Yandevere, this was less obvious considering she was from the 4th ranked quadrant, but it was important to separate the strength of the Golden Crow Sect and the Flaming Lily Sect. Alone, the Flaming Lily Sect was even weaker than the Kitsune Clan, especially considering the traitors that were likely in their midst.

The geniuses of powerful Clans all not only had Presence protecting treasures, they also had various life saving treasures. The best clans were able to provide Soul Treasures that were bound to newborn geniuses the moment their talents were confirmed. These sorts of treasures were of unimaginable value and were all heirlooms handed down through the generations.

If Dyon tried to enslave someone with too powerful a background, it would backfire in ways he wasn't fit deal with. So, while he could slowly infiltrate Clans and Sects ranked below 20 or so with this method, it was impossible to do the same for higher level Clans…

However, that didn't mean Dyon wouldn't make Anak pay a severe price even without the ability to enslave or kill him.

"COME!" Dyon's voice made the space around him tremble under its might.

Like a meteor, a streaking golden glaive five meters long careened toward Dyon. It didn't seem to remember it had another owner at all as it allowed Dyon to grasp it.

With a mere thought, Anak's connection to it shattered, causing his unconscious body to leak blood from his lips.

The glaive was far too oversized for Dyon. That said, he never intended to use it to begin with. The more profound Dyon's understanding of weapon wills became, the more useless he suddenly found high grade weapons. Similar to how he didn't care for alchemy furnaces until he found the Battle Cauldron, the concept was analogous. It probably wouldn't make much of a difference to him unless he found some next level weapon.

Still, taking this glaive had nothing to do with his own desires. Or rather, they did, but not desires pertaining to receiving a new treasure. Dyon needed to find a systematic way to cool himself down, and only this method both caused irreparable harm to Anak while also not reach the point of mobilizing the whole Emperor Giant Clan.

In all likelihood, the next few years' worth of that Clan's resources would all go toward finding a method to heal Anak's soul properly. If they didn't, his talent would be permanently harmed. As for Dyon who could easily heal Anak's soul, he obviously had no intention of doing so.

"Alexandria Snow, are you aware of your wrongs?!" Second Elder Mist could only vent her anger in the only way she could. Even Viola couldn't stop her from implementing Sect rules, right?

Ri slightly yawned. "I don't remember doing anything."

"You… Two of your fellow disciple sisters are hanging on to their lives by a thread, yet you dare to say that you've done nothing?!"

"Did I attack them?" Ri looked at the Second Elder as though she could only see a dancing clown.

However, the Second Elder was very crafty herself. Hearing Ri's words, she immediately pounced.

"I'm glad you've said this. You've allowed a hostile threat into our Sect to harm not only a Legatee of our esteemed Water Mist Sect, but also an astounding genius of merit and the future Prince of our Mist Clan.

"The penalty of betraying the Sect in punishable by public execution, do you acknowledge your wrongs?!"

The moment these words left the Second Elder's lips, she suddenly felt a tremble travel down her spine. An inexplicable sense of cold shook her to her soul. She didn't understand what was happening. As a dao expert, she couldn't remember the last time she felt cold. In fact, this was only made more exaggerated by the fact their Sect and Clan specialized in water and ice abilities.

It was only an instant later that she realized that this feeling came from a gaze, the gaze of a young man who had yet to speak a single word, a gaze that said if she continued, she would lose her pitiful life here.

Luckily for the Second Elder, Ri's laughter cut through the heavy atmosphere.

"I believe you're mistaken. Second Elder may or may not have gone senile in her old age, but surely you can tell that this isn't Water Mist Sect territory. This is the Dark Ocean. When did I do the things you've accused me of?

"That said, I do find it funny that you've conveniently forgotten the fact that neither Chrysanthemum nor Anabella had any right to be here. If I recall correctly, in order to avoid the pointless deaths caused by the Dark Ocean, strict regulators were placed around which disciples could enter this territory…

"Tell me, when did such a weak so-called genius like Chrysanthemum earn such a right? She barely managed to break into the celestial realm at the 4th Order, yet you call her an 'astounding genius of merit', aren't you embarrassed? I guess not though, if you could also just seconds before proudly name such a weak woman as your Legatee."

"Outrageous!" Second Elder Mist shrieked.

"It's probably more outrageous that a declining Clan like yours still puts on such airs. I hope for your sakes that your ancestors don't die too soon, or else what would you have to stand on?"

Second Elder Mist lost her cool, almost attempting to attack again. But, a light harrumph from First Elder Viola acted as a bucket of cold water being dumped over her emotions.