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Book 12: Chapter 15: Manage (3)

Many hours later, a crude laughter entered Dyon’s ears.

“Since when did mortals dare to cross the endless desert?”

Maybe it was only now Dyon felt he had forgotten something important. The segregationist tendencies of the Immortal Plane had completely slipped his mind. Dyon had become very used to standing at the top of the food chain. When did he ever spare thoughts toward being considered a second-class citizen?

They were a band of what could only be called desert pirates. There were about a dozen and a half of them, riding on large snakes that had their bodies half submerged by the sand and glass beneath their feet.

These three large brown-scaled snakes carried large cube shaped wooden containers on their backs. Those containers were likely what these band of pirates used for their living arrangements, and also likely what they stored their treasures in.

“Boss, what’s the point of robbing these guys. They clearly have nothing on them.”

This so-called “Boss” was a man of large stature. His skin was scorched heavily under the heavy sun of this world and he stood on the head of the largest brown snake.

Dyon had expected the beasts of the Immortal Plane to be quite large, but they were surprisingly much smaller than he expected. Dyon’s own beast companions were kilometers in size already, but these brown scaled snakes were only about twenty meters in length. The largest was only thirty.

However, Dyon could still tell that they were a level above mortal creatures. His former self wouldn’t be able to take any one of them on casually.

“What do you mean? A pretty boy like that would sell for quite a lot. He has quite a strong body just judging by the fact he’s made it this far without collapsing. Those young noble women are hellish fiends with no moral standards. They’ll pretend to be prim and proper on the surface when they’ve already lost count of their number of male whores.

“Plus… look at the little flowers by his sides.”

An uproarious laughter shook the band of pirates.

Usually, they instinctively disdained mortals so they hadn’t given the group of three a proper look. But, upon closer inspection, their eyes lit up when they saw Saru and Lilith.

In truth, the two women had suggested to Dyon that they wear veils, but Dyon fiercely rejected them. Maybe in the past before he awakened his vajra body, he might have agreed. But his current self had no patience for such nonsense.

Those who wanted to act on their beauty could just die.

“Good timing, actually.” Dyon said blandly. “I was wondering how I would be able to afford the city entrance fee. I hope you’re not too poor.”

Before they could laugh or even be stunned by Dyon’s words, his arms had already slipped out from Saru and Lilith’s, appearing on the snake head the Boss stood on.

A tremendous weight descended from the skies. In that moment, gravity increased several fold, the high, arching neck of the brown-scaled snake plummeting into the ground with a vicious boom. One didn’t need to check to know that it was now dead.

In the past, Dyon’s weight was already oppressive, but it was enough to cause such damage. Now, though, his body mass had actually returned to normal. However, he could change it at will.

Mass and weight were two fundamentally different concepts. After entering the Fate Silk Realm, Dyon’s mass remained the same, but he could change his weight at will. This subtle change in ability meant that Dyon had grasped the strength of gravity. Not only for his own body, but a limited portion of his surroundings as well.

The Boss’ eyes widened. “You…”

“You probably should have stopped at calling me a pretty boy. I might have let you live then. You actually came at a pretty good time, all things considered.”

“S…” The Boss caught himself from saying something embarrassing. “This serpent is the property of the Sand Serpent Battalion. Yet you’ve actually killed it?!”

“Battalion? I think you misspoke. A band of scum could never claim to be a battalion.”

The disdain on Dyon’s face thickened. He didn’t like the military much, mostly due to his parents’ involvement in it leading to their deaths. So, he never cared much for it and only built his own armies out of necessity. And even then, he took on most of the hard tasks himself.

But hearing mere pirates try to give themselves such a holy title pissed him off only because he knew his own father would have raged the moment he heard such nonsense.

“You’re courting death!”

“Just piss off.”

Dyon’s arm shot through the Boss’ chest, coming out the other side as though he had done so with a practiced ease. A mere lower Immortal Essence expert, why would it be an issue? The only reason they called this man boss was likely because of the half-immortal weapon on his person. They were in fact all of the lower Immortal Essence realm.

‘It seems that weapon’s are pretty important here… I guess my first task aside from making money and waiting for the Dragon King is to fix up Reaper…’

“Commander… won’t let you off…”

Dyon almost forgot for a moment that he was dealing with immortals and not mortals. A simple hand to the chest wouldn’t kill so easily.

Dyon pulled his arm out and shattered the man’s skull, grabbing hold of his nascent soul before it could run away and crushing it.

Following that, Dyon massacred what remained of the pirate band. In those moments, he felt a subtle brand attach to his skin that made him raise an eyebrow, but his strong Immortal Sense extinguished it.

Dyon easily found what he needed. Though it wasn’t an obscene amount of wealth, it should have been enough to enter the city.

But who knew…

“Mortals must be escorted and vouched for by an Immortal to enter, and can only do so with appropriate collars and regulation leashes of no more than three meters in length. Those who attempt to break this rule will be killed on sight or sent to the slave couriers.”

It felt as though the whole world was looking down on Dyon with disdain. Those behind him waiting to pay their fees, those ahead who had only just paid theirs, and the silver armored guard that blocked him from entering the city gates that stretched into the skies.

Dyon’s temper flared. It seemed he would have a very hard time managing his anger in this place.