Rebirth of the Nameless Immortal God Chapter 1123 Poignant

Chapter 1123 Poignant

Dyon soul began to grow. First it was a baby of no more than a few months old, but then its position began to change…

It soon became a toddler of about two years old, turning itself to sit upright in a position of meditation.

As Dyon's soul s.h.i.+fted its position, one of the seemingly impossible to break crystalline chains shattered without resistance, sending Dyon's chest into yet another violent pulse.

For the first time in more than a week, Dyon's mind cleared.

He didn't receive some magical answer, nor did he find some nonsensical boost in morale to push him past his thoughts. If he had to be realistic, he still felt that Chaos was inevitable, that there was no beauty to be found in it and that a tragic ending was all that lay in wait for them all.

The reason he had pulled out wasn't because he thought things would get better, but because of one thing and one thing only: Responsibility.

In those moments, as he played his chaotic tunes, it was no longer about him and how he felt. There were suddenly millions of people resting their hopes on him, placing their future in his hands.

When this happened, he inadvertently triggered and succeeded in the most difficult hurdle in forming the initial Sovereign Heart…

Sovereignty wasn't just about arrogance. It was about taking the hopes of your people and forging a path for their futures. Dragons didn't continuously seek to form their own clans, factions and sects just because they disdained being ordered by others… It was also because they sought out the true sovereignty path! The path that Dyon had come to know was nothing more than an elaborate fake.

The formation of Dyon's seed had little to do with himself and almost everything to do with those members of his mortal race that were willing to fight for survival.

Dyon clenched his fists. 'If Dad was here… He'd kill me…'

A bitter chuckle escaped his lips.

His dad was one of the greatest generals to ever exist. Although the mortal realm seemed relatively peaceful, the truth was that wars were inevitable.

Not every person of the martial world followed the unspoken rule of conduct. Attacks from bandit and ragtag groups of b.a.s.t.a.r.ds wasn't too frequent, but it wasn't infrequent either.

It was because Generals like Dyon's father continuously displayed a strength far beyond their means that the weaker fringes of the martial world didn't attack them willfully and with naked abandon.

Just how many times over the years had his dad faced situations where he could have despaired, yet pushed through anyway? Yet, he, who had access to power his father could only dream of gave up so easily.

Was it a case of ignorant bliss? Was his father just so weak that he couldn't fathom the things that Dyon could?

'Maybe…' Dyon wasn't in a state where he'd delude himself into believing that his father was some all-powerful, all-knowing, incredibly mentally tough individual that would never be fazed by anything. His view of the world had become too pragmatic and much less idealistic…

However, what Dyon did know was that his father would never show this fear and uncertainty if he was there. No matter what his father faced, he would always make sure that Dyon never forgot that there was a steady wall before him, ready to block whatever may come.

What Dyon's father felt didn't matter. So what if he felt fear? So what if he second guessed himself? So what if he sometimes felt helpless despair? For the sake of his son, he would shatter those feeling with an iron will ready to stand before anything.

Dyon coughed, spewing several mouthfuls of blood from his lips. In his selfless state, he had been able to suppress and ignore the severe injuries to his body, but it seemed he wouldn't be able to anymore.

He wiped the blood away with his forearm, looking off at the distance hand hanging from the skies.

'Whether there's beauty in chaos or not, I don't know… But it doesn't really matter, now does it?'

Dyon stretched out his hand, causing a stream of black flames to jettison outward before solidifying into a flickering spear.

He suddenly felt as though his body was being torn apart as another mouthful of blood threatened to fly from his mouth.

In that moment, his eyes flashed as an overwhelming Emperor Presence blasted outward from him.

"Subdue…" Dyon said in a faint voice.

Dyon could clearly feel the flames still raging within him, and he didn't dare to invoke his flames using his divine sense for fear of burning his soul to nothingness, but there was a clear change that took place. Under threat of his dao heart, his chaotic flames became docile.

With a squeeze of his hand, the spear of black flames shattered, falling from the skies and extinguis.h.i.+ng.

'Hmm…'

Just as Dyon turned to leave, a blur of wind charged toward him, diving into his arms and kicking his s.h.i.+n so fiercely that he thought his leg might break.

"Ah–"

Dyon looked down and sighed. He had thought that Clara would be asleep for at least several more weeks, but it seemed that he had underestimated the strength of her body.

"You're too powerful to kick my leg that hard," Dyon said bitterly.

"Shut up."

In the end, Dyon chose to listen.

**

Just outside the large natural moat surrounding the Belmont Holy Land an army of millions was gathered. However, the oddity was that their morale had seemingly dropped to an all-time low. Whether it was their target, the Belmont Clan, or themselves, no one seemed eager to attack.

In the center of the encampment, there was a large tent standing more than twenty meters tall and fifty meters wide. It almost stood as a castle into itself.

"What the h.e.l.l was that?!" A towering man standing at almost four meters tall with sharp bull horns coming from his large forehead raged, shattering the carpeted ground beneath his feet in a fit of anger. "Those Aumen Clan cowards have already retreated back to the teleportation stations! If I don't crush them to dust after this is all over, know that the name of my Mino Clan means nothing!"

This man was none other King Mino, the leader of the formerly imprisoned Mino Royal G.o.d Clan.

After Saru and her people left, the Mino Clan once more laid claim to their Planet Mino. Not only that, but their powers surged due to the copious amounts of resources that Saru left them in apology.

With 17 years of growth, the foundation of the Mino Clan had undergone a qualitative change, s.h.i.+fting the position of most powerful experts to be heavily skewed in their favor.

Just hours previously, the Mino and Aumen Clan alliance had been launching their most recent in a long line of continuous attacks levied toward Earth. However, when Dyon's music covered the planet, the leaders got cold feet, and for good reason.

The Aumen Clan, who had experience with Madeleine's parents were the first to retreat, believing that the couple was back.

The Mino Clan was less cautious, mostly due to their hot-headed King, and thus camped on the other side of Belmont Lake.

King Mino's disposition was of no real surprise, though. The Mino Clan, similar to the Viserion Clan from Dyon's second trial, were a line of humans with beast blood within them, namely the Demon Bull.

Although the Demon Bull wasn't on the same level as a Dragon, obviously, it was still a Heaven grade beast in its prime.

Still, the Mino tribe only had access to a very diluted portion of this bloodline, bringing them to cusp of the Earth grade on average. Only their most talented geniuses would be born with enough bloodline density to reach the Earth grade.

However, the reason the treasures Saru left behind were so valuable was exactly because Saru's Shruti Clan, and their subordinate clans, were all humans with beast blood as well!

Saru's royal family had the blood of the n.o.ble five headed white elephant, while their subordinate Hanu Clan had various elite monkey and ape bloodlines within them. Because of this, they were very familiar with methods of stimulating and purifying beast bloodlines, thus giving the Mino Clan a much-needed power boost.

Even still, this wasn't the most poignant point.