Rebirth of the Nameless Immortal God-Novel

Zabia looked into Dyon’s eyes cruelly, pulling his sword out to reveal a hole so massive that it shouldn’t be possible for any meridian formation expert to survive.

And yet, he didn’t feel happy. All he could hear were the wails of his wife as he fell to a single knee.

The soul burning technique should have lasted much longer than this, but what he had done with his time will was too heaven defying. All of the power he had gotten was used in an instant…

He had sacrificed for power once, and that had ended up with his wife’s chances at having a child being shattered right before him. And then, at the end of his life, he had done it again… How laughable.

In all his anger and rage, he had insisted he was protecting his family, and yet now that he was dead, who would do so now? Would the fate of his wife and children change? What exactly had he accomplished in killing the only person he knew could cure her?

Kawa Acacia sped out from the Belmont skybox, intercepting her daughter and disappearing in space before anyone noticed her. She held Ri’s head tightly against her chest as she shook violently.

Ri’s screams filled the space, sounding completely inhuman. She pushed and scratched and clawed, but how could her cultivation be a match for Kawa’s?

The crowd was stunned. They had no idea what had just happened.

In previous matches, it was very much possible for celestial experts to intervene. In a battle of such weak warriors, in their airs, it was as simple as waving a hand to interfere. And yet, in that instant, the battle had far surpassed that of the younger generation.

Dyon was using a Supreme Law! A will on the level of which none of them had managed to even remotely breach. It was a level of will that gave the Uidah an unprecedented advantage over them during each and every campaign, and that was without sending out their best!

Even worse, Dyon death will with without a doubt at the ninth level. The Uidah at most had ethereal permeation at the 3rd to 5th level. Just what kind of concept was it to have a supreme law at the peak will level? That was the equivalent of having an elemental will at the 8th intent level! It gave you access to one with world, something even they hadn’t touched as experts.

It was at that point that there was little doubt in anyone’s mind that Dyon was number one. It was simply impossible for any other members of the younger generation to match him. His power was too outstanding and his star shone too brightly. He was unmatched!

The thoughts of the crowd flashed back to their very interaction with this young man. They remembered the chorus of boos they had greeted with him and how unperturbed his confident smile had been as he swept two otherworldly beauties into his arms without a care for the world.

Number One in the World, he had said… The Demon Sage AKA Dyon Sacharro…

That name was burned into their memories. A genius that had died too early…

And yet, through all of this… Through all of this power… Yet another genius had willingly given up his life to kill him!

Zabia had used the sacrifice of his life in order to deal a fatal blow to Dyon. A fatal blow that utilized time will to a scale that shouldn’t have been possible for any expert in the world… A skill so heaven defying that it had made the supreme law of death look like little more than child’s play.

On a battle of that scale, even the celestial experts couldn’t intervene. It had reached a level where even their thousands of years of cultivation meant absolutely nothing in the face of these children!

Zabia slumped to the ground, panting heavily as he held onto his heavy sword with the last of his power. His hair had whitened, first because of Dyon’s death will, but then because of his own sacrifices. He battled hard, trying to keep his soul from dissipating, hoping against hope that maybe he had cut himself off from the power in time to salvage the last bits of his life… And yet, with every breath, his life seemed to slip further and further away from himself.

King Acacia looked down at the arena, his face such a harsh shade of red that everyone around him was afraid to say a single word.

‘Didn’t I say that I’d bring you back from the dead just to kill you again if you made my daughter a widow?!’

In the Ragnor and Cavositas section, Patriarch Ragnor insincerely shook his head, “Such a shame. For a genius to die so young.”

Suddenly he paused, a message entering his ears, ‘Now huh?… This is actually quite a good time. But, to think the diligent Elder Daiyu would make such a big mistake. It seems to me that you’ve gotten senile in your old age.’

There was no response as communication was cut off completely.

Patriarch Ragnor’s blue eyes flashed. It was finally time. It wasn’t ideal… But when were things like this ever?

On the arena floor, all pairs of eyes still rested on a handsome young man who remained standing tall. His scythe remained firmly planted on the ground even as blood dripped from the gaping hole in his chest…

The last pieces of his heart were still visible, but it had also very clearly stopped beating completely.

His inner organs had been smashed to oblivion, his blood pooled so thickly that it no longer shone crimson, but rather seemed to be a deep black. It was no longer possible to distinguish the individual bits and pieces falling out of him… The very fact he could remain standing was a testament to the arrogance that seeped into his very bones.

Even in death. He was still Dyon Sacharro.