Regardless of how his allies felt, this was the first straight forward answer Dravil felt he had received. It seemed like Dyon really believed the words he just said. But, the question was whether or not it was the truth, or delusion.
“Is this the man you decide to follow?” Second son stopped bothering with Dyon, instead turning his attention toward Madeleine, who he had seemingly decided he liked the best. “With your weak universe, you were likely forced into a marriage because he had a little bit of talent. Why don’t I kill him for you and allow you a chance to choose a real man?”
“Since you’ve made your choice, don’t fight me over the other two. You can have her, but I want them.” Fourth son interjected.
Dravil said nothing. He wasn’t very satisfied with this situation, but he also was willing to directly offend Dyon. If someone had to do it, it was best his subordinates did rather than him. At least that way, if it got out of hand, he could apologize.
Immediately upon hearing these words, Ri, Clara and Madeleine didn’t react how many thought they would. Instead, their heads immediately and inexplicably snapped toward Dyon as though they were worried about something.
The only reason Dyon was having this meeting was for the sake of peace, but if he lost control of his temper, something that was apparently very much possible now, it would all be for nothing. They had all witnessed first hand the kind of effect Dyon’s bloodline had, even they couldn’t resist it. Of course, a large part of that was because Dyon’s body was much stronger than theirs and therefore had blood more potent than they could handle, but strength of body had little to do with mental fortitude. In the end, Dyon simply had more resilience than they did.
However, regardless of their worries, regardless of his bloodline, regardless of his state of mind, there was one thing Dyon would never tolerate.
“I see.” Dyon’s voice sounded as though it came directly from a cold abyssal hell.
Second and fourth son froze, unable to understand where this pressure was coming from. It felt as though they had all been dunked into an endless darkness, continuously falling down an endless pit, never to hit the ground.
Dravil’s eyes widened. He immediately understood that he had miscalculated. He was too naïve!
He thought that since Dyon was continuously making jabs and pointing fun at them, it would take at least a few rounds of second and forth son’s insults before he snapped, but he had misunderstood something!
Dyon wasn’t poking fun at them to stall or in some sort of fake bravado, he was doing so because he could. He didn’t care about diplomacy, nor was he trying to veil his intentions. Dravil had completely misjudged the situation!
“Esteemed guest, I would like to apolo –“ Dravil immediately began to apologize, hoping that it would salvage the situation. It was safe to say that where he was curious about what Dyon’s methods were before, those methods were currently the very last things he wanted to see. He still had confidence in protecting himself… But what about everyone else?!
However, he never got the chance.
Dyon’s body became a blur, shifting forward with speeds only a saint could reach.
Many wouldn’t understand just how Dyon retained so much battle power with so much of his abilities sealed. But, the explanation was simple.
No matter how many times one boosts themselves from the peak of a realm, attempting to reach another, it is neigh impossible to replicate. For example, in order for Dyon to truly replicate a sainthood body from the peak of the essence gathering level, he had to use act 2 of Demon Emperor’s Will! That meant, even while being so close to sainthood, he needed a times sixteen strength multiplier to be considered as having the equivalent strength to a saint.
This may seem confusing, but this was simply the difference in quality of realm. At lower multipliers, Dyon was simply a pseudo saint… An essence gatherer that had ascended above other essence gatherers, but wasn’t quite able to match up to a saint.
So, what did that mean now? Dyon had officially stepped into sainthood! This meant that his body wasn’t just marginally stronger than before, it was more than sixteen times stronger than it had been in the world tournament!
This meant that even with his death will gone, even with his soul sealed, even with his energy cultivation hidden away – completely inaccessible – Dyon was already stronger than he had been with he fought Zabia!
If one had to break it down, each will usage had its own multiplier, but it was also more complex than this. For example, a 5th level wind will might make you twice as fast as you usually were, but have little effect on your strength. A powerful sword will would increase your piercing power, but not necessarily your speed of attack. Essentially, Dyon’s previous strongest state, his death will state, only increased his attack potency, but nothing else.
A first level death intent was easily a times twenty multiplier to attack potency. Such was the power of a supreme law! Especially one so fiercely attack tailored. So, the question was, why was Dyon more powerful with just a sixteen times multiplier? The answer was simple…
Death intent only increased attack strength… But, a multiplier for the body directly increased everything!
Dyon’s speed, processing ability, defense, attack speed, attack potency, everything! Was multiplied by sixteen. Not just one aspect!
There was no doubt! Dyon was already stronger than when he beat Zabia! That was a state where everyone believed he was undisputed winner of the World Tournament… A state that would have left Lionel and Tau Aumen completely helpless. So, what did that mean? Lionel was capable of defeating third daughter with relative ease, and yet Dyon was already then much stronger than him, and even more so now.
With how close in power the sons and daughters of the essence gathering level were… How could a mere second and fourth son stand up to Dyon now?
The two of them didn’t even understand how it happened, but in less than a moment, their necks were being clamped. No one had been able to stop Dyon from leaping over the table…
Dyon was now mere inches from first son, clamping down on two of his brothers while crouching on the table.
“Say it again.” Dyon’s eyes flickered with potent killing intent. “I dare you.”