Reaper of the Martial World

Book 4: Chapter 71: Prison

Dyon’s eyes first rested on Elder Daiyu. He immediately noticed that he was significantly older and more decrepit than when last he saw him. Although he didn’t know the reason why, it was an interesting enough point to take note of. In Dyon’s experience, even the most minute of details could lead to the most important things. And in a situation like this, he needed whatever he could get.

However, when he heard Chenglei’s words a flicker of cold red bolted across his eyes before they landed on him.

An oppressive demonic intent shook the space between them, causing Chenglei’s features to pale as his knees weakened.

The grip on Dyon’s shoulder tightened so severely that his bones immediately crushed under the pressure, but it was too late and Dyon couldn’t be bothered to care.

In an instant, the prince of the Daiyu fell to his knees shivering. He looked down at the ground listlessly, unable to comprehend what just happened.

Dyon turned his head to gaze at his shoulder, an undisguised contempt for Patriarch Ragnor clear on his features. But, his arm could only hand limply to his side as his internal bleeding worsened with each passing second. With his movements cut off by Patriarch Ragnor, it was impossible for him to circulate his essence energy to speed his healing, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t use his soul and aurora flames.

Unfortunately, healing depended not only on the strength of the body, but also the strength of the attack that injured the body… With the stream of celestial energy entered his shoulder, it became far beyond his capabilities of healing.

Patriarch Ragnor’s anger boiled as he watched Dyon look at his own shoulder seemingly nonchalantly. It had been under his watch that Dyon had humiliated Chenglei… It was nothing short of a slap in the face to him.

And yet, when he to punish Dyon for his act of rebellion, he hadn’t even winced at his bones crushing.

Anger flared among the Daiyu warriors. After the initial shock, they suddenly realized what had happened.

“How dare you!”

“Kill him!”

Voices of discontent and anger rang outwards, but Elder Daiyu stopped them with a word. “Silence.”

He didn’t speak loudly, and his voice almost seemed tired. But, it was enough to cause a wave of calm to overcome the crowd of warriors.

Elder Daiyu gently placed a palm to Chenglei’s back. A secret burst of celestial will circulated, snapping him out of his stupor. But, the moment he realized what happened, his face became beet red with anger.

“You!” Chenglei stood violently, sending a fist flying toward Dyon’s face in anger.

Dyon could immediately tell that this was no normal attack. It was clearly laced with spear will, and the crackling flames that spiked the pressure couldn’t have been anything but fire will.

An even deeper disdain colored Dyon’s features, but Elder Daiyu made no move to stop his grandson.

Whether he was able to move or not, Dyon was still an array alchemist of unprecedented levels and he had left Chenglei far behind in terms of combat prowess. Before, it would have taken multiple defensive arrays to stop this fist. But right now? Only one was necessary.

Dyon’s eyes flashed with a deep purple gold as a brilliant array appeared before him and Chenglei’s fist.

However… Patriarch Ragnor wouldn’t make the same mistake twice so easily…

With a discreet flick of a finger that sat on Dyon’s shattered shoulder, Dyon’s array immediately dimmed just moments before Chenglei’s fist collided.

In that moment, how could Dyon’s 6^th sense not pick up on what happened? He had more than enough time to draw another array, but would it make a difference? Wouldn’t Patriarch Ragnor just act again?

The array shattered reminiscent of a fragile glass pane. Dyon watched with a cold gleam in his eye as Chenglei’s fist collided with his face.

Maybe in a normal situation, the impact would have been lessened by Dyon flying backward. But, the grip Patriarch Ragnor had on his shattered shoulder was so strong that Dyon tilted to the side with such force that his arm was nearly torn out of its socket.

A deep and reverberating pain erupted from Dyon’s shoulder as Chenglei rained punch after punch down.

They felt like little else than an irritant, but because Dyon wasn’t able to control and move his muscles, it was only Patriarch Ragnor’s grip on his shoulder keeping him up.

Humiliation.

The pain in Dyon’s shoulder felt like nothing to him. All he felt was an endless humiliation.

He didn’t care that Patriarch Ragnor was a celestial and he by all rights shouldn’t win. He didn’t care that Chenglei’s punches felt like nothing to him. He didn’t care that he was being forced into a corner by these people or that the odds were stacked against him from the very beginning.

Such was his deep seeded arrogance.

There shouldn’t have been a single situation he couldn’t get out of. Not a single one that he couldn’t overcome.

And yet here he was, getting his face pounded by someone this weak and inferior to him.

Time seemed to slow… There was only one other time where Dyon had ever felt this feeling. He had vowed to never feel it again, but here he was…

However, he continued to watch every first, never closing his eyes. With his senses, Chenglei’s every punch was incomparably slow, and everyone had its image burned into Dyon’s mind.

‘I’ll remember this.’

“That’s enough.” Elder Daiyu finally spoke out after a few minutes passed. Whether he agreed with this or not didn’t matter, when it came to the face of the Daiyu clan, no one could be allowed to besmirch it. However, in all the time he allowed his grandson free reign, he hadn’t heard a single sound escape Dyon’s lips, not had the coldness in his eyes faded. At that point… It was nothing short of a farce for him to allow Chenglei to continue.

“Leave it be. He won’t be of this world soon.” Elder Daiyu finished, turning away and entering the cave.

Chenglei’s fists stopped as he breathed heavily. Just like the previous Dyon, Chenglei was still waiting for his meridians to mature. As such, he had no cultivation, much like the last time he fought Dyon.

Just months prior he could remember vividly just barely losing to Dyon. And yet now, even after being allowed free ability to attack without retaliation, he hadn’t even caused so much as a bruise on Dyon’s face. In fact, if it wasn’t for the small sliver of blood falling from his corner lip, it would almost be as though he hadn’t been attacked at all.

How could Chenglei match up to Dyon’s body cultivation? Even if his movements were sealed, that didn’t change the fact that Dyon had a peak essence gathering body. Something Chenglei could never hope to match.

And yet, Dyon didn’t feel any pride in this small victory. His eyes remained cold enough to pierce through to Chenglei’s soul.

Patriarch Ragnor pulled Dyon by his shattered shoulder, into the dark cave.

**

Dyon walked silently down the dark corridor. He knew next to nothing about the Belmont Holy Land, and even less about the catacombs, but he assumed that wherever they were bringing him now was the source of all the secrets that had been held for so long.

Understanding that the mortal world had been sealed for the sake of powering an entity was an obvious conclusion after everything he had learned for the past three years, but that information was surface and shallow.

There were still too many questions.

Who was the entity? Did this relate to the same wars his grand teacher lamented, or was it an entirely different beast entirely?

If it really was about the war between the chaos factions and the old man’s, how could his grand teacher sit idly by and allow this to happen? Was he not aware of what was happening? How could he not be?

This was a man who quite literally just reached his mind across dimensions and instigated a time lock that turned a mere split second into half of an entire year! This was a man who gave Dyon a technique to reverse the absolute death sentence of burning one’s soul on a whim! This was a man with will so powerful, that his techniques were passed down through the ages as though they were the will of the heavens! How could Dyon accept an answer like ‘he just didn’t know’?!

Even worse, this wasn’t the end of Dyon’s questions. Why us? Why did he choose to steal talent from us in specific?

What was the history of Dyon’s people? How did they come to find a place in a universe that used to be known as the strongest?

By the history he knew, the Kitsune and Celestial Deer Sect used to share this universe and quadrant as one. It was one of the rare few instances where the two main Emperor God Clans of quadrant weren’t quarrelling. After all, if they were, how could they share a single universe together?

But, if that was the case, where did Dyon’s people come from? They couldn’t have always been mortal, or else there wouldn’t have been any talent to steal… Even more interestingly, human history only went as far back as about 5000 years, and yet that was only half the life span of a celestial. Considering the fact even dao formation experts wouldn’t have been rare among this universe in the past, that amount of history is truly too pitiful to be the true amount… Something was missing…

Suddenly, Patriarch Ragnor’s voice snapped Dyon out of his thoughts. “There’s no use in thinking so hard, it won’t do you much good.

I noticed that you left all of your treasures behind to your widows. That’s nice. But, I’ll be taking them after this is over and done with.”

Dyon’s eyes narrowed. “To so clearly provoke a man you want to die for your sake. I can’t tell whether you’re stupid or overly confident.

If you keep showing me that your word means nothing but dog shit, why would I allow you to have both my soul and everything else you want?”

Patriarch Ragnor suddenly laughed, “You overestimate yourself far too much. You truly believe that there is nothing in this world that can supress your soul? You think that if you continue playing this card that it will always work? For someone who claims to be intelligent, you’re quite lacking.” Patriarch Ragnor’s eyes flashed with a dense killing intent.

A formless pressure spread trough the cave walls, but somehow, it was much different than before.

Crackles of red lightning illuminated the dark tunnels, causing Dyon’s breathing to become heavy and his eye lids to droop not being he was tired, but because they had suddenly become much too weighty for him to hold up.

His entire body felt like a massive stone had fallen on top of it.

“Naïve little boy.”

Dyon’s mind shook as he suddenly grasped what was happening.

In order to sense and manipulate celestial energy, one much first comprehend a rudimentary domain. Much like for one to sense and manipulate saint energy, you must first comprehend an intent.

These rudimentary domains were colloquially known as auras. Although that word was often tossed around in the martial world, when it was attached to a celestial level expert, it meant something entirely different.

However, a rudimentary domain was just that. It was the cusp of something great and would often be heavily tied to what you built your one with hearts upon. Because of this, it was often highly limited in true combat, only geniuses among geniuses would have robust enough cultivation hearts to manifest a viable aura…

The reason why was simple. The step above a rudimentary domain, or a true domain, was a space where the laws of the universe no longer bent to the whims of those laws, but rather to the whims of the cultivation expert. That meant that without a strong cultivation path one firmly believed in – on that you forged on your own – it would be impossible to even form this true domain, and by extension, your aura would be weak from the very start.

The very fact that Patriarch Ragnor’s aura was so powerful… Powerful enough to even stifle Dyon’s soul… Only meant that Dyon had vastly underestimated this man…

There was no way he was a simple celestial expert…

His aura was only a single half step away from a true domain…

This was only possible for an unprecedented genius…

“Aiyah. Don’t feel despair.

“Listen. Since it is unfair that you’ve been left in the dark about so many things, how about I tell you a secret? With you pitiful senses you’d never be able to tell.”

A sinister glow flashed in Patriarch Ragnor’s eyes as he leaned downward toward Dyon’s ear, whispering so that only Dyon heard.

“I’m a 12^th stage celestial expert.”

Dyon’s lip twitched at these words.

What kind of concept was a 12^th stage celestial expert? Nearly inconceivable! This man had not only reached the pinnacle of celestial cultivation, but he had also done so as a first-grade expert!

Dyon’s puppet… The one he had hidden all this time… The one within the spatial ring he had so diligently covered in a concealment array resting on his fingers… It was all useless!

How could a 4^th stage celestial puppet that Dyon could hardly control for a brief moment at its pinnacle, fight someone 8 stage higher than it!? Dyon didn’t even know if his senses could keep up with Patriarch Ragnor at that level of cultivation!

This man was only a single step away from becoming a dao formation expert!

What hope was there at this point?…

**

Hours went by as they walked through endless tunnels. It was as though it was a purposefully constructed maze. But, the spatial fluctuations were some of the oddest that Dyon had ever felt. He couldn’t tell what path they followed, but he understood it wasn’t an ordinary one… If he had to guess, he would think that this form of space will didn’t just allow travel through ordinary space, but rather, the space between dimensions themselves.

If that was true… Spatial understanding on that level would have to be at the level of a supreme law. But, the only type of space will Dyon knew only allowed for travel within a single plane of existence. Even when Patia-Neva, for example, hid in a spatial pocket, he wouldn’t leave this universe in the strictest of sense…

Space will was just as odd as time. Both were seemingly overpowered and ground breaking wills, but in reality, the restriction of the universe on them was so heavy that they were little better than regular elemental wills. For space will, this was even more obvious.

There were tier separations for the type of space you could break through. For example, it used to be exceedingly difficult to utilize space will in this universe because the laws were so solid and the energy was so dense. However, with the decline of the universe came an added ease in using space will. This was why even someone as weak as Vidar Ragnor, although his faith seed’s body was quite powerful, was capable of collapsing space with his fists. It wasn’t that he was so outstanding, it was that this universe had truly fallen from its original heights.

Another facet that increases difficulty in the use of space will would be your opponent. Dyon teleportation abilities meant nothing in front of true experts because they had the ability to forcefully control areas with their energy. This worked in much the same way a universe with higher energy density would be harder to learn spatial will in.

With all of this in mind, it made sense how astounded Dyon was by this level of spatial will. To be able to comprehend spatial will to this level was definitely not easy. Dyon even dared to say that whoever forged these tunnels had spatial will comparable to void will!

Because of that will, navigating the catacombs increased in difficulty by a ridiculous margin. Dyon couldn’t fathom how Elder Daiyu moved with such decisiveness. Was it because he too had such a grasp of spatial will? Or was it because he already knew the way?

‘No, that doesn’t make sense.’ Dyon inwardly shook his head. Just ‘knowing the way’ wouldn’t help you. In fact, it would have to be that you knew the way AND you understood spatial will to this depth. That was the only way you could accurately link the map in your head to your surroundings…

It was only then that Dyon remembered that Elder Daiyu had claimed to be a former dao formation expert. With his dao forcefully shattered, his cultivation had plummeted to low levels of celestial cultivation, but, much of his comprehension should be there, although they would be crippled.

Dyon wanted to silently thank the efforts of his teacher and former celestial deer sect members, but when he remembered how powerful Patriarch Ragnor was, he couldn’t help but sigh.

‘That’s the other thing… When I spoke to my master for the first time and she went through all of my memories, she mentioned the Daiyu as a threat, but not the Ragnor. That means that they must have only become a true part of this plan after the celestial deer sect was gone, or, played a very small role during the war and vastly improved later.’

If it was the former, that meant that somehow the Ragnor had provided the Daiyu with help they sorely needed. It was likely another example of the Daiyu recruiting people utilizing every bit they have. They must have also done the same with the Clyte and the Aumens.

In each case, everyone got something they wanted… The Clyte became a royal god clan. The Ragnors found hope in transcending the laws of the universe. And the Aumens, if Dyon had to guess, likely received flame type legacies. After all, how many could match the Daiyu in such a thing? They were black jade dragons!

** historical

What seemed like ages later, they finally came to their first dead end. At first, Dyon thought that Elder Daiyu had finally made a mistake, but, in mere moments a dense double light began dancing around the edges of the ‘dead end’.

Intricate patterns swirled as the space trembled. Then, flames of red and blue suddenly burst to life, illuminating the once dark walls with streaks of fire that hungrily dove into the intricate patterns of the dead end, swirling and following until they climactically meet in the middle.

The ball of red and blue blasted into each other at the center, spinning viciously and coiling around each other.

Then, that ball slowly turned to a vibrant violet before sinking into the center.

The creaks of parts that hadn’t moved in thousands of years rang through the narrow tunnel as a blinding light flooded inward.

In the next instant, Dyon saw something that even he could no longer maintain his indifferent demeanor in the face of…

The dreary catacombs opened way to a matchless lush greenery that extended for miles as far as the eye could see. The ‘sun’ hung high in the sky and precious flowers that were at minimum on the essence level graced the world with their beautiful presence.

However, there was a single thing out of place. Something that made Dyon’s heart shake so violently that he froze, unable to look away at what he was seeing…

A hand…

No. It wasn’t just a hand… It was a behemoth of a hand chained to this world by bindings just as unfathomable. Dyon couldn’t comprehend how far away it was, and yet it appeared so close and large that he could almost reach out and touch it…

But… Logic told him that if he was even within a thousand miles of this hand, the pressure it was giving off would kill him in an instant… The violent trembling in Dyon’s heart… The uncontrollable sweat that poured from him… The near immediate shattering of his one with heart death will…

In that moment, Dyon’s mind suddenly understood something he was quite frankly too scared to accept…

The Earth didn’t expand to millions of times its normal size on a whim…

It had done so to act as a prison…