Reaper of the Martial World

Book 12: Chapter 155: Record (1)

Dyon sent a glance toward his bleeding fists and shook his head.

Though he had perfected the foundation of his body and was even ready to strengthen it once more by severalfold, it was still too weak. He him in the past would have likely been able to shatter this stele with his fists, how would it even be possible for him to be injured?

However, he didn’t have much time to think about such things.

The whole alchemy world was bearing down on this place. Any activities that might have been going on, whether that be personal concoctions, bartering, alchemy spars… They all came to a screeching halt.

No matter who it was, who wouldn’t want to see the person who had the audacity to lay down a Gauntlet? And not even just one at that… but three?

One had to know that it was impossible for higher tiered alchemists to challenge lower tiered steles. The trial would lose all meaning if such a thing were possible. This meant that the only person who could challenge all three steles was a person who was, at best, an alchemist of the Venerable Stele.

An alchemist of the Venerable Stele challenging Immortal Gods? Just what kind of backward concept was that?

But the truth of the matter was that even if most had feelings of incredulity and doubt, they still understood that while one could challenge the Venerable or the Empyrean Stele with nothing but overblown pride and a dash of foolishness, even touching the God Stele was impossible for an obscene portion of alchemists. There might only be a few per generation who were capable of such a feat. And, among those that are good, the number who could spare the energy and presence of mind to ‘ring’ the stele were an even smaller portion of that.

In the end, there might not be more than a handful of people per generation with such capabilities. Like this, even if the challenge failed… How many of them really had the right to speak on whether or not Dyon was overestimating himself?

Of course, though, humans were hypocrites. And, this was especially so when they were enraged.

The Venerables and Empyreans who had been forcibly called down by Dyon’s blatant provocation felt stifled and had nowhere to place their rage. Who else would they aim it toward if not Dyon?

This was especially so for the top three of each stele, and for the top three of the Empyreans… even more so.

Dyon calmly walked out from within the pressure of the God Stele with an almost bored expression on his face. If it wasn’t for being able to use this tactic to force Pill Sword Mountain’s hands, how could he, who had already reached the pinnacle of the alchemy world, have time to waste on these juniors?

Their anger, to him, was nothing but hot air.

[ 3. Venerable Doran (3 203 303) – Higher Empyrean Grade Soul. Record: 0.874. Valiant Record: 0.423]

Venerable Doran was a pale young man that looked as though a single gust of wind could shatter his body. His white robes seemed far too large for him as he stood shakily.

[2. Venerable Ary (1 038 329) – Higher Empyrean Grade Soul. Record 0.882. Valiant Record: 0.429]

Venerable Ary looked like a little girl of barely 14 years old. She walked around, tightly holding onto a cauldron to her chest. Despite the face the cauldron was half her height, she seemed to have no intention of letting it go.

[1. Venerable Bart (10 239 038) – Higher Empyrean Grade Soul. Record 0.885. Valiant Record: 0.432]

Venerable Bart was the eldest amongst them all. He seemed like he had a foot in the grave and just like Doran, might just collapse at any time.

However, no matter how different or eccentric these three Venerables were, at this moment, they all looked toward Dyon with faces searing with rage. It was rare for these three to be on the same page, but when they were, it felt as thought he world just might crumble.

The group of enraged Venerables was led by this very group of three. It seemed that their prestige was quite high because no one dared to take a step forward and allowed the three of them to lead off and face Dyon.

Maybe it was due to Dyon’s lazy expression, but with each passing moment, their rage seemed to simmer and grow greater. This kind of humiliation was simply too stifling.

How could they not feel resentment? Since Dyon had the ability to ring the God Stele, why did he need to bother with them? They were just small characters in the alchemy world. It wasn’t as though they had wronged Dyon in any way.

Of course, like many others, they sneered at the fact he was a mortal. But this was all behind closed doors. They had never even met Dyon in their lifetimes. Could it be that this mortal was petty enough to insult them in this way simply for the small chance that they really had said something he wasn’t aware of behind his back?

The simple answer was yes. Dyon really was that petty.

Dyon clapped his hands as though silencing a crowd.

“Alright, since I challenged the Venerable Stele first, I can get you guys out of the way more quickly. There is no need to come up one by one. How many of you are there on that stele… about a thousand right? I’ll take you all on at the same time.”