Rebirth of the Nameless Immortal God Chapter 1799 Right?

Chapter 1799 Right?

Unsurprisingly, it was the 'innocent' and 'timid' Thea who reacted first, taking an age stone from her spatial ring and throwing it to Dyon.

But the result was anything but unsurprising. A wave of despair washed over the geniuses here as they realized Dyon wasn't speaking nonsense at all…

'Not even 70 years old yet…' These were the thoughts that whipped across all of their minds. It was only then that Dyon said something that made them sigh a breath of relief.

"But no. Today, you won't be fighting me. You'll be fighting my juniors."

At this moment, the silent mortal clan geniuses clenched their fists.

They understood well what Dyon was doing. Gathering the geniuses here was just a pretext. The true purpose was to gather those First Grade of Severity murderers here to push them to their limits. The way he had been purposely angering them from the very start made all of this clear.

Those like Brady and Thea were only the tip of iceberg…

Just this alone would have been enough to make the mortal clan geniuses nervous, but that was when Dyon dropped another bomb.

"To me, they are the true geniuses, none of you can compare to them. During your fighting matches, feel free to unleash, I won't blame you if you kill them, that would only mean that they were useless. But, they won't be allowed to land any fatal strikes on you. After all, it's not very fair to allow giants to step on ants as they please, right?"

The mortal clan geniuses silently grit their teeth. Despite knowing what Dyon's purpose was, they couldn't help but feel unresigned.

"Oh, and should any one of you manage to kill these guys here, then I'll personally support your growth until the time of your death. In addition, this obviously means that any mule status you have attached to your name will also be expunged and you'll be allowed to return to your Clans and reclaim your n.o.ble status."

The eyes of the youths lit up, a fiery intent in their eyes.

"Great, at least you still have some ambition left. Who wants to go first?"

"Me!"

The words had hardly left Dyon's lips before Brady, still kneeling on the floor with shattered kneecaps spoke up, not allowing anyone else to take the opportunity.

"Good, Good." Dyon nodded with satisfaction. His Presence dissipated over his body and a wisp of holy type qi entered his body. In an instant, the mind-numbing pain Brady had been experiencing vanished.

Brady quickly stood up. At first, he was stunned that he had actually been healed so quickly, but he recollected himself a moment later, his eyes unable to hide the killing intent hidden within them.

Dyon looked back toward the mortal clan geniuses, his eyes blinking innocently.

"And who among you want to go first?" Dyon smiled lightly.

Seeing that he received no response, Dyon spoke again. "Oh, I forgot to tell you this, but until every single one of them is defeated, none of you will be allowed to leave."

A cold s.h.i.+ver took hold of the mortal clan geniuses.

How could Dyon do this to them?! There were only 36 of them, but almost 50 000 opponents to face! How was this fair!?

"Don't give me that look, I didn't say you had to fight them all at once, right? You get the privilege of guiding these lesser commoners in one on one combat, shouldn't you be happy doing such a public service?"

The bitter light in their eyes only grew fiercer.

Realizing that none of them wanted to step forward, Dyon's smiled a devious smile.

"You."

The other 35 geniuses practically dove out of the way of Dyon's pointed finger, leaving only Kedar in his path.

Kedar smiled bitterly, remembering his wish to gain Clara's love. Is this the price for his wishful thinking…? No doubt about it… No doubt at all…

"Leader Sacharro I –"

He didn't have the chance to finish his sentence. Before he could react, a wind he couldn't fight against swept him off his feet. He didn't even get the chance to beg for forgiveness.

The cold sweat matting the skin of the 35 remaining geniuses didn't lessen in the slightest. They made a mental note to never even meet the gazes of Dyon's wives and his daughter, let alone dreaming of having them. Or else one day, they too would be like Kedar.

Kedar gulped a gasp of air down as he faced Brady. His body involuntarily shook, all of the confidence he had that day when Clara took them away from the mortal world vanished into a puff of smoke.

"Ah, it seems I'm very forgetful today." Dyon lightly tapped his own forehead. "Feel free to choose your weapon Brady, Kedar will fight bare handed.

"Also, over the next few years, I'll be choosing three disciples. You know what they say, first impressions are lasting."

Just when the youths believed the atmosphere couldn't become more chaotic, it took another spike toward the worst. They wanted to sow Dyon's lips shut, but who here would even dare to attempt such a thing.

Dyon lightly lifted himself into the air, forming an array to lazily recline upon and endless amounts of food began to pour out from his spatial ring.

"I choose the spear!" Brady called out, his blue eyes reddening.

With a wave of his hand, Dyon formed a bland grey spear for Brady. Yet, despite his nonchalance, it was a weapon created to a Grandmaster quality.

"You can start now." Dyon waved his hand again, creating a defensive barrier around the two of them spanning a hundred meters in each direction. Though this might seem like a lot, such an area to a celestial is akin to a phonebooth to a mortal…

Kedar tried to control his nerves. Though he had become a Pseudo Celestial, his opponent was already a Lower Celestial.

The truth was that Kedar could have attempted his tribulation long ago, but he was too scared after he almost died under his saint tribulation. Failure wasn't something Dyon witnessed often, but the reality was that only 1 in 100 survived their saint tribulation, only 1 in 10 000 survived their celestial tribulation, and it was hard to find 1 in a million who survived their dao tribulation. This was the world non-geniuses faced…

Unfortunately, Kedar didn't get a chance to take hold of his nerves before Brady's spear was already inches from his face.