Reaper of the Martial World

Book 13: Chapter 37: Overr

Dyon took a step forward.

It seemed that he wanted to build up momentum, but somehow, it felt as though his aura was slowly growing more reserved. Instead of building up to the heavens, it seemed to shrink. It was impossible to tell whether this was his own doing, if he was growing fatigued or if… the auras he was facing were finally strong enough to drown him out.

By the time he made it within five meters of the first line of chariots, it was difficult to even sense him without laying eyes on him. The wild fluttering of his black flames became as calm as the surface of a lake. The rattling of his bones vanished, replaced by an eerie silence. Even the flickering fires of his eye sockets seemed to have cooled, even giving off a faint blue light.

In another step, Dyon had become level with the first row of chariots. It felt like in a single blink,

he had crossed the remaining five meter distance, standing amidst them without sparing them a single glance.

The condescending looks of the Sapientia who had just been gazing at him from above froze.

He hadn’t attacked them, he hadn’t aimed his aura at them, he hadn’t even looked at them. It was as though they were nothing but air.

By the time they reacted, Dyon had already crossed over a kilometer into their formation.

They couldn’t comprehend what was happening. This madman had just been wildly reaping life after life. Not a single person he had come across had left unscathed. In fact, now that they really thought about it… not a single one had even survived.

The stark contrast suddenly knocked them off their high platforms. That was right… was this

really a man they were looking down disdainfully upon? Based on what merits exactly?

It was unbelievable. To actually make so many elites pale in fear simply by virtue of his inaction. Maybe in the history of the martial world, such a thing had never happened before.

Dyon’s rage smoothed out into a calm tide. It approached and receded with a soothing rhythm, slowly ebbing away at the shore as though it had all the time in the world.

Dyon had never been one to be calm in rage. He wasn’t that kind of person. He was explosive and domineering, reaping his debts as quickly and lethally as possible. This was his character. Others might be different, but he had always been like this.

However, when things came to an extreme, they would often birth their nemesis, their direct opposite, and the epitome of their antithesis.

The Immortals had always thought that this principle only applied to the energies of heaven and earth. But somehow, seeing Dyon reach such a state, they felt more fear than they ever had in their entire lives.

To reach such a calm state for someone who never originally had such a thing in his disposition… it felt like he was resonating with the Heavens in a way they never thought possible.

However, how could he not be feeling this way.

Before him, there wasn’t an army of trillions. He didn’t see the flashing gold or the condescending looks. He didn’t notice the danger he was in nor the wounds on his body.

All he saw in his sights were two people he had once trusted. The little sister he doted on and the master that had been his only parent for so much of his life. Even as the Nameless Immortal

God, this was maybe one thing he could have never predicted, or maybe it was just that he didn’t want to predict it.

However, Dyon wasn’t a fool. Thoughts of these emotions felt like a past life, like the memories of a person that was no longer him.

He was simmering with such rage that he had entered an impossibly dull calm. From a man that could sunder the heavens, he had become akin to a speck of dust floating along without any ability to influence large changes in the world at all.

Yet, this very same speck of dust had suddenly become the subject of their fear.

Maybe it was due to how audacious and arrogant he was, but many of Dyon’s enemies didn’t take him seriously until it was too late. The apprehension, the anxiety, the unabashed horror they should be feeling would never settle

in until they truly reached the last of their moments.

But now it was different. He wasn’t rampaging about, he wasn’t giving them looks of disdain, he wasn’t even deigning to cast them a glance. Yet, somehow, these were the very actions that made them realize their true situation that much sooner.

Dyon crossed the entirety of the army. They had realized what was happening after he entered just a kilometer into their ranks, yet even then, they still couldn’t react until after he had crossed past them all and appeared just 20 meters from his master and his third sister. He didn’t even seem to notice that there was a third there amidst them.

Empress Elise? Ancestor of the Phoenixes? She was just another ant to him.

Abraxus sighed. “I already knew that this amount wasn’t enough to stop you. You were right to do this this way. There really wasn’t much of a point in watching you take down more canon fodder, now was there?”

The Sapientia who heard these words were naturally furious. Canon fodder? They were all Immortal Gods. Of the countless planar worlds the Sapientia had wrested into their control, which of them weren’t the elites among the elites there?

In fact, if it wasn’t for the fact they had planned this for too long and couldn’t afford any mistakes in the final moments, would they have even had to mobilize so many? Dyon seemed to have caused them no small loss, but it ultimately amounted to barely a single percent of their number. He had to repeat the same feat tens of times more before they truly began to sweat.

They were already dissatisfied with Abraxus. If it wasn’t for him, they could have already charged and wiped out what remained of the Mortal Empire army. Could Dyon alone really stop them all?

Abraxus suddenly looked up from his conversation with Dyon. An indifferent glint flickered in the depths of his pupils.

In that instant, numerous cries of agony rang out.

“No! NO!”

Huge swaths of the Sapientia army found themselves to be rapidly aging. First it was just a subtle feeling, but soon, they all found their skin was loosening and aged spots were appearing all over their bodies.

Eyeballs fell from their sockets, skin began to peel off in thick layers, revealing grotesque

pinkish meat beneath, and soon, their bones grew too brittle to even stand.

The pain of your bones breaking beneath your own weight was unbearable. It was like they were self inflicting harm, but there was nothing they could do about it. Even when they fell to the ground of their own accord, hoping for some reprieve, their bones soon grew too weak even to sustain the heaps they lied in.

Their deaths could only be said to be pitiful. In the blink of an eye, an amount double to what had fallen at Dyon’s hands disappeared into what seemed like an endless pile of ashes.

It seemed that they had truly forgotten themselves… Was the Time and Space Immortal God someone they could casually look down upon?

“Come, then, my disciple. Let master see how much you’ve grown.”

Abraxus took a step forward. He still held the amiable appearance of a grandfather who had just rolled out of bed in his white pajamas, however, his image had long since been ruined. Whether it was the countless lives he had just reaped, or Madeleine’s blood that was still caked to his body… neither allowed them to see this man in such a way.

Dyon didn’t say a word, but Abraxus didn’t seem to mind.

“You all can charge now. With me here, there won’t be a need to worry about anything else.”

He had already seen through Dyon’s bottom line. This battle could truly be considered to be over.