Rebirth of the Nameless Immortal God

They had thought that after so many years of dormancy, they had finally rid themselves of this worry, but who was the bastard who pissed this man off again? If they could find them, they would most definitely wring their necks until there was no blood left in their bodies.

However, though these old men had these thoughts, since they had managed to survive so long, their hegemons obviously couldn't compare to the ones of the past. And, since that man had been gone for so long, they had had time to consolidate the resources of the plane around themselves.

In the Elven Hegemon.

"Clarisse is dead."

The place was exactly how you might imagine an Elven Haven. Even the meeting room was filled with signs of nature. Thrones created from the weaving bark of precious heavenly trees, flowers budding in the wake of their every step, and a gentle sunlight glow from the open ceiling above.

However, the solemn expressions of the Elven Immortal Gods paints a gloomier tale.

As a Hegemon, the Elves had several thousand Immortal Gods. However, compared to the trillions upon trillions of people under their control, this number was really too miniscule. It was simply too difficult to raise Immortal Gods, and even harder to raise them above the Lower Immortal God realms.

"How is that possible? She died without even being able to send back a signal for help? We don't know a damn thing about her death in this way…"

Just when the Elves were about to say more, a sudden violent pressure emitted from deep within their holy lands. Their complexions changed as they all looked toward the same place.

"Ancestor!" They all cried out at once.

Many of them here hadn't even been born when their Ancestor last made his presence known. That was right, they had been born and even cultivated all the way up to the Immortal God realm without ever seeing this person. Yet, this Ancestor had suddenly let off a wave of energy?

On the meeting grounds, a man suddenly narrowed his eyes. If the World Tree were here, he would definitely recognize him as the very same man he reprimanded on the day Dyon purged the elven bloodline from Ri.

"He's back…"

A hoarse voice that was barely discernible as a woman came from the holy grounds. The words were vague, but it still sent a shiver down the spines of the elves.

The man's face changed expressions several times.

They had sent Clarisse out on a mission to apprehend a man who was suspected of using the Primordial Yin of an elf to impersonate them. It was a bit of an overkill, but they were simply following the Clan's laws. The matters of Primordial Yins were exceptionally serious.

They could have never imagined that she would die just like this.

But, even further, was it a coincidence? That man also had a wife from the Eostre Clan, did he not? He must have had her primordial yin. Did he have a method of preserving it during his reincarnation?

Could there really be such a coincidence in this world? That man came back at the exact same time Clarisse's soul tablet shattered? There was definitely not such a 'good' thing in the world.

Suddenly, that man began to laugh uproariously. He laughed so hard that those around him began to look at him with weird gazes. Even the aura of their Ancestor, which had been constantly increasing, receded a bit.

The seniority of this man was not low. After all, he was alive when the Reaper of the Martial World still reigned supreme. Though he wasn't their Ancestor, his standing was not low in the least.

It was several minutes before he finally reined himself in, a wild grin matting his handsome features.

"It's about time we seek revenge on that man. Even if he has wings, the Nameless Immortal God will cease to be."

The man's handsome face twisted. Even so many years later, he would never forget how that man humiliated him. If it wasn't for a promise to Jade, he would have died a hundred times over. In fact, the Elven Hegemon would likely follow in his footsteps.

He was Gilpin, a man most likely to reach the pinnacle of the Immortal God Realm and stand side by side with their Ancestor. Yet, he had just one blight on his life. Now, he had the chance to remedy it.

With a sinister visage, the man began to describe what happened with the World Tree. The more he spoke, the brighter the gazes of the elves became.

"…Inform the other Hegemons. The Immortal Plane will not suffer his rage again. This time, he must be killed."

The Elven Ancestor spoke once more before falling into silence. However, the excitement in her voice couldn't be concealed. She too wanted to see Dyon fall.

'If you were going to fall for an elf, it should have been me. Since you dared to choose my rival, you can go ahead and die along with her…'

**

Dyon awoke.

Interestingly enough, his soul finally gave off the fluctuations of the immortal realm. It was unbelievably stifling. It was obvious that even an Immortal God would have trouble stopping the trembling of their knees before him.

Of course, after burning away his soul's strength to truly break free of Heaven's shackles, he wasn't a match for an Immortal God in an upfront battle. However, there was an aura to him that seemed to surpass Presence, an aura that would make it hard even for someone objectively more powerful than him to lift a single finger.

Not only had Dyon's soul broken into the immortal realm, it had directly entered the peak venerable realm. Not only that, but mental energy was no longer a bottleneck to him. As a result, he could use his current abilities as a Spiritual Sage with impunity.

Dyon could have spent more time checking out the changes to his strength, but he stood instead, the two flames that had been coursing around him slowly receding.