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Book 4: Chapter 49: Bottom Ninety

Dyon scanned the neatly arranged rows of warriors before him. He sat, hovering in the air on a stage made for him. However, anyone who knew Dyon would know that a simple place in the top ten wouldn’t erase all wrongs he had felt – especially since it was so far below what he deserved. In fact, he was feeling quite angry at the moment, despite the small smile on his face. Because they had put him in the top ten, he couldn’t fight Lionel as quickly as he wanted.

In the end, Dyon decided to push those thoughts to the back of his mind, reclining on his array to look into the sky.

‘So sad. Ri and Madeleine wouldn’t let me fool around with them last night because they wanted to spend time with mother and father in law. Such injustice…’

Seeing Dyon’s demeanor, quite a few of the bottom ninety rankers were angered. How important was this event to them? And yet this Dyon was pretending as though their challenges didn’t matter at all!

However, they were smart enough not let their anger influence their decision. To them, Dyon was a masochistic bastard with sadistic tendencies. He had allowed Femi Geb to think he was winning, even going so far as to get beat within an inch of his life, just to win easily in the end. How could such a person be normal? They were beginning to think the Demon Sage title suited him almost too much…

Elder Den casually scanned the crowd of warriors. This was supposed to continue until every one of these ninety either relinquished their right to challenge, or every one of them used their singular challenge. But, it seemed that they were just as apprehensive as they were every year.

Truthfully speaking, despite the top ten being in a tier to their own, you could still make rough estimates on their power by taking a few things into account. The most important was age and amount of campaigns undergone. But, this world tournament was truly an anomaly.

In past years, it was simple. The top ranked would usually be someone on the older side, like Tau Aumen. He was a person who had accumulated almost 20 campaigns and thus deserved to be ranked first. People would then usually have it as consensus that he was the strongest simply by virtue of having cultivated the longest and having the most experience.

This year, though, it was different. Because of discovering a legacy, Lionel Belmont had leaped to the first place position. This legacy had even affected the ranks of other who had entered, like Madeleine for example. However, unknown to everyone else, the only reason Madeleine wasn’t within the top ten herself despite having actually inherited the legacy was because Amethyst’s flames had destroyed everything on her person aside for her spatial ring and Dyon’s gift to her. This meant that Madeleine’s tracker hadn’t recorded the final acceptance of the legacy.

As if that wasn’t convoluted enough for everyone to wrap their heads around, there were other strange occurrences in the top ten. Saru Shruti and Zabia Jafari had come out of nowhere to break into the top five despite both having less than ten campaigns to their name. And, the most shocking part was that they had purposefully skipped some campaigns, tracking no points at all on several occasions!

Then, the greatest wrench in this entire system was Dyon himself. Those who were truly intelligent were starting to doubt whether he had really cheated at all. Maybe he had a similar interaction with the gates as compared to Lionel? In fact, considering how many treasures he had on his person, many were truly beginning to believe this. After all, why would someone as powerful as Dyon ever feel the need to cheat and sustain such a stain on his name?

Everyone here knew that there were many other bottom ninety rankers that had strength that might rival the top ten despite being on the younger side. There was no shame in being too young to rank highly. Everyone was aware that Dyon was only sixteen years old and they all knew that it was his first campaign. No one would have looked down on him even if he didn’t manage to rank at all. It just didn’t make sense for him to take such a risk…

In the end though, Dyon was fully aware that the only reason people were beginning to change their minds about him was because of the power he displayed. There was no sympathy or logic. They only acknowledged him because he had the power to force them to do so. It was that simple.

Suddenly a loud boom and the crackling of lightning snapped everyone out of their thoughts. Dyon felt the array holding him up nearly shatter, but his eyes quickly flashed with a golden light as his array reinforced itself.

Raising an eyebrow, Dyon remained reclined as he tilted his head to the side to find a familiar figure standing on a few stages down from his. Dyon couldn’t help but inwardly chuckle, ‘You’re not even challenging me, yet you felt the need to make sure I knew you were stepping up? If you’re so scared, don’t bother me.’

A few hundred meters away, Vidar Ragnors sharp blue eyes pierced toward the air to land on Dyon. He was pissed.

How much blood, sweat and tears had he put into his training so that he could put Dyon in his place? And yet his father had gave him expressed orders to not challenge Dyon and to first secure his place in the top ten. He felt his pride was being completely trampled over, and yet he didn’t dare to disobey his father. Patriarch Ragnor was not a man who liked to repeat himself twice.

Lightning danced along Vidar’s black robes as a silver spear appeared in his hand, slamming into the already formed crater at his feet.

The undulations spreading from the spear left no questions… This was a transcendent level weapon.

The leaders of the other planets couldn’t help but narrow their eyes.

It wasn’t a secret to anyone how weak this universe was. Even they had celestial experts that couldn’t claim to have transcendent level weapons. At most they might have a few high-level master weapons. Maybe the luckier ones could claim to have lower grandmaster level weapons. And yet, now, there was first Dyon and his wives, and now this child too? What was going on?

Many had thoughts of taking Dyon’s treasures, they just didn’t dare to lose face so publicly. But now it seemed they had another target as well. The leaders of the Royal God Clans couldn’t help but snort to themselves. They were the true leaders of the universe, and yet this genius of a mere God Clan and another genius of a dead and gone sect dared to be so brazen before them. As ridiculous as it sounded, they took it as a slap to the face.

That said, maybe most fittingly, there were only two leaders thinking this way. King Clyte and King Aumen.

Vidar’s opponent turned a slight glance toward the silver spear, immediately deducing that it wasn’t normal. In truth, he hadn’t expected to be challenged so early. After all, he was ranked seventh currently. The safest bet for anyone would have been to challenge the ninth ranker, thereby avoiding Dyon, but still taking on a relatively weak opponent. But, it seemed that Vidar’s pride had gotten the best of him.

If the seventh ranker was aware of this logic, most others would be aware too. His father had already told him to avoid Dyon, but he couldn’t bring himself to choose the easiest opponent either. So, he went up as far as he could to a point where he thought he could still take an easy victory.

The seventh ranker, though, wasn’t amused.

He was a member of Planet Nix, thus he had a very strong animosity toward Dyon. He hadn’t been there when Ulu was disrespected, but it was enough for him to know that their queen had been. He had no intention of losing before he could face Dyon.

The final competition between the top ten would be a round robin. This meant that Planet Nix would have plenty of opportunities to cut Dyon down before eventually allowing their King to seal him. He was stronger than they had expected, but very few had any awareness of how powerful their King Zabia Jafari was. This Dyon was nothing before him.

The seventh ranker, Yazid Jafari, snorted as he took a good look at this Vidar Ragnor.

“Your pride will be your downfall,” His words were simple and to the point. He didn’t like to waste his time or energy. He would quickly dispatch with this person and be on his way.

In an instant, nine swords appeared in the air, hovering in a seemingly random pattern. But, those who were experts could feel the slight fluctuations in space and time around those swords… Their formation wasn’t so simple.

The faint ripples in space gave the swords a sharpness that shouldn’t be underestimated. However, what was truly scary were the wrinkles in time. Even Dyon frowned at this, looking toward Yazid Jafari with a serious expression.

The swords seemed to fade in an out of existence. In one instant there would be nine, at others there would be one, and in others there would be as many as 81!

They all seemed real, and yet ethereal all at the same time. There was simply no ease in explaining the phenomenon… And neither did Yazid bother to explain it either.

‘Planet Nix.’ Dyon narrowed his eyes. ‘Their use of wills is quite… profound.’

Vidar’s energy exploded.

Arcs of lightning spread wildly, trying to disrupt the odd field generated by the sword formation.

His spear pointed forward, glowing brightly as it heated under the pressure of his will. The transcendent weapon immediately reacted to its owners change, sending terrifying undulations through the arena.

“My pride?” Vidar sneered, “Eat my spear.”

Vidar’s black robes burst, revealing a toned and heavily scarred body as he flashed forward.

‘Fast.’ Yazid’s silver eyes focused. ‘But speed means nothing before me.’

Yazid stood, completely unmoved. His swords glided through the air, glistening with odd blacks and silvers. Each movement seemed deliberate, and slow, and yet just fast enough regardless.

Vidar was shocked. He should have reached Yazid’s position in an instant of time – they had only been separated by a few hundred meters at the most. For a lower essence gathering expert like him, especially with his main will of lightning being at the ninth level, it should have been child’s play. And yet… one… two… three breaths of time and he was still half way to his position?

Every step forward felt like three back.

“Choosing me as your opponent was a mistake.” Yazid spoke calmly.

Vidar’s eyes flashed, ‘Danger!’ His body twisted, spinning in the air as he tucked his spear against himself.

There was no sound. No fluctuation in the wind. Nearly no sign at all. And yet, blood began to run down Vidar’s arm as a slice appeared on his arm.

‘What?…’ Vidar’s eyes narrowed as he took a look at the space around him. Other than faint and odd ripples that almost looked like the sky on an extremely hot day, there were no other oddities. If he hadn’t felt his lightning arcs being sliced through, he would have never sensed the sword coming. He may very well have lost in a single move!

Vidar stood from his kneeling position, his energy much more focused. He spread his lightning outwards, using it as an extended nervous system to boost his reaction time. This was a good passive ability of lightning and was coming in handy now.

The bleeding of his arm didn’t seem intent on stopping. In fact, it was getting worse. The wills Yazid had used were too profound for Vidar to heal it on a whim.

However, that was when something that shocked everyone occurred.

Tens of wounds appeared on Vidar’s body in an instant, sending jets of blood every which way.

The flesh of his bare torso immediately became mangled and drenched.

Vidar’s spear stabbed into the ground, sending violent arcs of lightning into his surrounding as his expression darkened.

“Your body is quite tough.” Yazid said nonchalantly, “I was trying to take at least an arm before making you quit. Consider yourself lucky. Take this opportunity to get off of my stage.”

“And if I don’t?” Vidar sneered.

“I’ll have to kill you.”

“Kill me, hm?” Vidar mocked, “Everyone seems to think that lightning is all our Ragnor family is known for. You can blame that on an overly famous for nothing ancestor of mine.”

Vidar’s body began to slowly expand. “However, I’m not Thor.” His voice boomed through the arena. “I am the embodiment of vengeance. The Giant of the Ragnors. The silent god, who frankly, is quite tired of being known as such.”

In an instant, Vidar stood at 20 meters tall, his weight crushing the arena below his feet.

“I am Vidar.”

Vidar’s hulking figure stood tall in the fluctuating space Yazid’s formation provided. His spear hadn’t expanded along with him, but it seemed he was prepared for something exactly like this.

In an instant, the spear that had become nothing more than a toothpick in his hands was replaced by another one that could be more accurately described as a massive pole that just so happened to have a blade near the top of it.

The spear was massive, being 25-meters tall and so thick that even Vidar’s large hands barely wrapped around it.

Yazid’s eyes narrowed, ‘This is a problem. His expansion wasn’t superfluous… His mass increased along with his size – he quite literally made more of himself. How is that possible?!’

Usually with expansion techniques, they would be exactly that – simple expansion. The mass of the person wouldn’t change, despite what the perception was. Originally, Yazid had assumed that Vidar’s technique was exactly that with the usual simple strength boost. If that was the case, it would be easy to handle.

However, the reality was well beyond his estimation. Vidar’s body had become akin to a dense white star an instant away from collapsing into a black hole. The amount of matter he had condensed into himself nearly made gravity bend toward him instead of the planet!

‘If he can – ‘ Yazid’s thoughts were cut off by his exact fear acting out before him.

The arcs of lightning around Vidar amplified, matching his obscene size. And then, his hulking figure disappeared.

Yazid’s worse fears had been realized. His technique relied heavily on manipulating the space and time laws around a given space. However, such things came with a limit.

If there was too much energy output to control, his formation would fail. If the energy quality was above his ability to manipulate, his formation would fail. If the area his needed to control was too large, his formation would fail.

But, none of those were the reason…

If the mass of his opponent was too large… His formation would fail.

Yazid tore through space, attempting to get away from the attack his knew was coming. But, a sharp pain suddenly permeated through his entire back even as he did so.

The skin of his back tore apart, charring and burning under the relentless lightning. Yazid grit his teeth, closing himself within space and appearing hundreds of meters away.

Blood dripped from his back as his dark skin became tainted in red.

Vidar’s rumbling laugh filled the arena, “Seems my spear couldn’t reach you. I was trying to take your life, to be honest.” Vidar sneered. “You can consider yourself lucky. Take this opportunity to get off of my stage.”

Yazid frowned. He didn’t care that Vidar was throwing his own words back at him. What he cared about was whether or not he could win this.

It was clear that his formation wouldn’t work anymore. His understanding was far more superficial than his younger cousin, so he could never hope to manipulate the space around such a large mass. But, regardless, he still had to win. Even if he couldn’t make use of his illusory-like techniques, how many could match the sharpness of his swords? All he had to do was make use of his experience and cultivation advantage to dispatch this Vidar character.

Twin short swords appeared in Yazid’s hands as he flashed forward, not giving Vidar the opportunity to take the initiative again.

“Haha,” Vidar’s voice boomed, “I commend you for your quick decision making.”

His massive spear arched forward, bending under the strength of his arms. The speed of his strike was much too fast for the size of his body, and yet he did it. The most shocking part was that Vidar had yet to comprehend spatial laws, and yet the simple movement of his body sent ripples and cracks in space. No… That wasn’t all. All the laws of the world seemed to crack under his presence. Quite simply put… He had the body of a god.

Yazid’s short swords were dwarfed and the space he controlled was completely torn apart by Vidar, and yet it was all too late.

Their clash was like an irritated home owner swatting away a pesky fly.

Yazid’s body flew through air, his bones crushing under the weight of the impact. He had managed to stop the sharpness of the spear from reaching him, mostly because Vidar couldn’t control his use of space, but that didn’t stop the endless lightning from searing his skin and paralyzing his muscles.

Not once in this competition had Vidar used his faith seed. And yet, in the moment he had, he brought out a domineering display that belittled Dyon’s accomplishments.

Dyon had destroyed the 11^th ranker with a few punches. But, so what?

Vidar flashed forward to end it all when a sudden message entered his ears, “Don’t kill him.”

How could Vidar not recognize his own father’s voice? Even he didn’t know what his father’s plans were, but he, much like every other Ragnor, had no choice but to follow.

“Consider yourself lucky, I guess.” Vidar repeated himself as he watched Yazid crash far outside of the arena in a sorry state.

Settling down, Vidar took his spot at the center of the stage that was now his. Surprisingly, the cuts that Yazid had inflicted upon him were healed but hadn’t disappeared. Instead, they formed new scars along his body. Scars Vidar wore like badges of honor.

Sure, Dyon had demolished the 11^th ranker… But Vidar had just done the same to the 7^th… Just where had all these outstanding young men come from? The crowd cheered loudly, all the more excited to see the next rounds. How long had it been since a member of the top ten was dethroned? And now they had gotten to see it twice already!

Vidar’s gaze set itself upon Dyon who was still reclined, his eyes closed as though he was taking a nap.

“Enjoy your rest while you can mortal. Your act isn’t fooling me.” Vidar sneered, sending his voice directly to Dyon’s mind.

Dyon opened an eye, giving Vidar a cursory glance.

“Ten moves.” He said nonchalantly before closing his eyes once again, smiling to himself as he leisurely resumed chatting with his wives.