“Release her.” Dyon eyes burned with dense black flames. Although Patriarch Ragnor was much taller than him, Dyon didn’t hesitate to draw an array in the skies just high enough so that he’d be eye level. There was no fear in his voice, and even less trepidation.
Saru frowned further, clearly agitated. ‘Why did you go to him so easily, you’ve lost all leverage now!’
“You know we can’t do that princess. Our first goal is to first and foremost protect you. As of now, this Patriarch Ragnor doesn’t seem to have his sights set on you, and it’s best it remain this way. Also, please do not take out your Epistemic Tower Key again. Although he ignored the temptation once with this Dyon child, he may not do so again.
“Remember that this is not our quadrant. Your key does not give you an advantage here. It took us many years of waging war to earn the key for our lineage away from those damnable Kitsune. If you lost it under our watch, the King would have more than a little punishment for us.”
Patrirach Ragnor’s eyes narrowed at Dyon’s clear lack of disrespect. He was a man who wouldn’t even have to lower his head amongst the Emperor God Clan that was his home, and yet this boy that was nothing more than the last of a dead race of people dared to look at him with eyes of contempt?
“You’re quite bold. Stepping out here alone.”
Dyon’s emotions didn’t fluctuate. “Did you not say that if I came, you would release my mother in law?
“You spent so long talking so much shit and spinning the tale however you wished. Don’t tell me that your words are worth as much as the piss and shit that comes out of your mouth?”
Patriarch Ragnor’s lip twitched at Dyon’s words, this being the first time he ever lost any semblance of his care free appearance. But, as he went to retaliate by squeezing Kawa’s neck, Dyon spoke again.
“Injure my mother in law any further and I’ll start burning my soul right now. Release her to him now.” Dyon pointed toward King Acacia, not turning his gaze over. “And after you do that, keep in mind that I have a soul bond with my wife. If your attacks don’t cease after I go with you, I will, again, burn my soul.”
Patriarch Ragnor froze. If Dyon burned his soul, it would be nothing less than burning away thousands of years of work. When this began, Patriarch Ragnor himself hadn’t even been born yet.
The Ragnors were cursed, and this wasn’t a secret to anyway. Because of their ancestor’s attempt at defying the heavens and grasping a will no one should, their gene pool was forever handicapped. This entity was their bright light of hope for not only the Daiyu, but them as well.
This plan of theirs didn’t just represent giving this entity accumulated power. No. It also represented the possibility for the Ragnors to defy the laws of nature as well. If Dyon really did as he threatened, all of that would be gone.
Patriarch Ragnor’s frozen features morphed into a smirk. “Did you think that committing suicide in the face of a true expert that didn’t want you to is so easy? If I so wished it, you wouldn’t be able to move an inch!”
A formless pressure weighed on Dyon, sealing his movement and grinding his organs and bones.
This was much like what Ester Sapientia had done to Madeleine. When someone had a higher grade of cultivation, especially when it involved a higher grade of energy entirely, this sort of suppression was very much possible.
Ri and Clara’s hearts seized. Although Clara didn’t know much about cultivation, she was smart enough to deduce the meaning behind Patriarch Ragnors words.
Clara’s cold eyes seemed to reach another abyssal level. Any semblance of warmth was completely gone…
‘I can’t lose you too…’
Dyon couldn’t move. His muscles were sealed, and a deep reverberating pain loomed over him, threatening to end his life where he stood.
However, that was when a massive humanoid manifestation appeared in the air, shaking the already rumbling skies with a pressure that couldn’t hope to outweigh Patriarch Ragnors, but had somehow formed a domain of its own.
A white flower bloomed in the skies, slowly unfolding. Under the eyes of everyone, a second Dyon appeared.
“It seems your words really are worth nothing.” The Clone spoke. “Unfortunately for you, though. Unless you use your soul to pressure my own, your suppression would fail. You have no ability of stopping me from doing anything I want to do with my soul.”
The reason was simple. Unlike most martial artists, Dyon had plenty of control over his soul. Cultivation suppression wouldn’t work on his soul.
In addition, using your soul to directly pressure someone was highly dangerous. If it wasn’t, Dyon would do it all the time. How would the World Tournament have been even remotely challenging to him if he could?
That meant one thing. Even if Patriarch Ragnor broke all of their former expectations, and somehow turned out to be an unprecedented expert that also had a soul powerful enough to match it, he still wouldn’t dare use his soul to directly pressure Dyon.
“I don’t like being threatened.” Patriarch Ragnor’s façade was slowly crumbling.
“I quite frankly don’t care what you do or don’t like. Release my mother in law.” Both Dyon and his clone stared directly into Patriarch Ragnor’s eyes.
“Ha.” The darkness in Patriarch Ragnor’s eyes suddenly disappeared.
Dyon’s eyes couldn’t help but narrow at this quick shift between demeanors. The level of danger this man presented was clearly larger than any he had ever faced…
“It seems I’ve ruined your trust in me.” With a wave of his hand, Kawa was sent flying toward King Acacia who caught her and immediately began trying to treat her.
“I don’t trust the words of you people. Clearly if you feel slighted enough, even eradicating entire population isn’t beneath you.”
“Ai.” Patriarch Ragnor sighed in mock sadness. “There was a treaty in place, you know. I can’t believe Matriarch Niveus went so far as to do such a thing.”
A light smile spread across his lips. “You shouldn’t worry too much about it, though. That treaty ran its course years ago although very few knew about it.
“It had only existed for the same reason shepherds protect their sheep from wolves with a fence.” A dark light shone in Patriarch Ragnors as Dyon’s anger threatened to erupt. “After all, whose talent would we accumulate if the mortals were to die out too quickly?”
In an instant, Patriarch Ragnor’s hand clamped on Dyon’s shoulder, and they disappeared.