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Book 11: Chapter 89: Relief (1)

‘Could it be that this is why Death has appeared this entire time?’

Dyon hadn’t actually spared much thought to the voices at all. Their weird mannerisms, words and finally, their odd silence only served to distract him from his initial goals.

Of course, he wouldn’t have minded teaching them a lesson if he got the chance and even thought of slipping through the opened doors from time to time to see what was lurking behind, but his better judgement corrected his course away from such an idea.

At least within this space, Dyon was certain that he was within the confines of a trial controlled by the Heavens. However, if he attempted to leave, he couldn’t be certain anymore. Until he gained enough strength to battle in this world without worry, it was inadvisable to leave such a good training ground.

If anyone else was witnessing this scene, they would find it truly odd.

On one side, there was a half-dead man leaning heavily on his sword. He had just one eye and there wasn’t a single inch of his skin that was covered by blood, a ghastly wound, or sheared open to the point where it could no longer be classified as skin at all.

This half-dead man’s breath was so heated that despite the normal temperatures of the battle room, a white fog still left his lips. One could practically imagine the sight of his body boiling from the inside out.

Unfortunately, this scalding breath was only in part due to Dyon’s over drafting of his body. The other part of the reason was due to his crude control of war qi.

On the other side, there was a man riding a mighty war horse with lush black fur and demonic armor that exuded a savage grey qi. By all metrics, he should have been emboldened and confident to cut Dyon down where he stood.

Yet… He was trembling in fear.

Unlike the previous Famine’s, he didn’t allow his balance scale to hover before him. Instead, he gripped onto it tightly, his eyes practically leaking with tears.

He clearly wanted no part of this battle, but some invisible power was forcing his hand. He had no choice.

“Are you going to attack? Or are you just going to stay there?”

Despite his appearance, Dyon’s voice hadn’t lost its strength. It might have been a bit hoarse, but the underlying power hadn’t faded at all.

“If you really are just going to stand there, do you mind handing over your satiation qi? I’m in quite a sorry state as you can see.”

Not wanting to continue watching Famine try his best to respond, Dyon threw out another line.

“D… d-don’t kill me.”

Hearing this voice, Dyon immediately realized who it was. This was the only voice who had disagreed with the other two who wanted to kill Dyon. It seemed that the other two were like War and Conquest, then. Or, rather, the true War and Conquest and not like those previous iterations that couldn’t even speak like Famine was now.

Dyon raised an eyebrow. Well, it seemed like he did, anyway. All anyone else would have seen was the rain of blood down his face curve and flatten.

“Why is it that you fear me so much?”

Famine trembled. “I-I don’t dare to say. Definitely don’t dare to say.”

What a joke. If this version of himself didn’t understand, that means that version of himself didn’t want him to know yet. In that case, who was he to step in. Wouldn’t that be asking to die?

Dyon couldn’t be bothered to care about this answer. Or rather, he seemed to not care. It was impossible to tell whether these were his true feelings, or if something else was influencing him to react like this.

“Then just give me your balance scale and leave.” Dyon decided to say.

“I… I can’t do that either…”

Famine had no idea where Dyon got the strength. But one moment, he was standing more than ten meters away from him. But in the next, he was sitting atop his horse’s head, facing him directly.

Famine could only cry as his balance scale was snatched from his hands.

“You… How…” Famine really sounded like he was sobbing. Dyon almost felt bad for him.

Dyon shrugged. “I just happened to realize that void will happens to be universal… [Devour].”

Famine watched as his long-time companion was greedily swallowed by Dyon. The balance scale was basically no different from his flesh and blood. Dyon had no idea when he started, but he soon realized after Famine began to scream in agony.

“Oh…” Dyon stopped for a moment. But the damage was pretty severe, he had already absorbed at least 50% of the white qi within the scale, and his comprehension of the Concept of Balance deepened by several levels.

“… Your weapon refinement is different as well. It’s no wonder why I felt your craftsmanship is a level above even the dwarves. It isn’t that you’re actually more skilled, it’s that the techniques you use are a level higher. How magical…”

Dyon remembered that when he saw the golden doors etched in battles of the past, his immediate reaction was that they were far more beautiful than even the weapons forged by the dwarves. It seemed that he wasn’t entirely wrong, but he wasn’t entirely correct either.

If the dwarves could use this technique… Maybe the greatest treasures to ever grace the cosmos would be created…