Chapter 2254: 2254
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Dyon's body compared to Yadmere's was no different from an ant to a deity, however his momentum raged on as though it had no knowledge of such a thing.
His movement became profound and enigmatic. The sight of Estein's golden abacus appear in the air, a deep battle intent wafted from Dyon's body.
His sword streaked downward as he flashed to dodge Yadmere's fist.
The booming strike shook the dragon pillars, but Dyon had already appeared above his wrist, his sword making contact with his skin.
The sound of metal scraping metal disoriented the ears, causing Dyon's laughter to shake the skies.
To think that his blade wouldn't leave a scratch. But this reality only served to light the fighting intent in his gaze all the more.
A flurry of strikes erupted from Dyon's blade. One watching on could hardly believe their eyes. To see such beauty, such elegance, from such a crudely large sword… it didn't make sense.
'[A Winter's Last Snowfall]…'
Dyon's steps mesmerized the eyes as he ran up Yadmere's arm. Every swipe of his sword tore across the giant's robes, leaving faint white marks on his otherwise unblemished defenses.
It didn't take much to understand that Yadmere was thoroughly enraged. He was the esteemed Ancestor of the Giants. Yet a youth bȧrėly a fraction of his age was using his arm as though it was a roadway.
Unfortunately, though he could grasp the situation quickly enough to be enraged by this matter, Dyon was simply too fast. While he could fold space at will, Yadmere and Estein were restricted from doing so under the scroll's presence.
"Old Claw, are you really not going to make a move?!" Yadmere roared. However the only response he received was silence. Old Claw had long since closed his eyes, pretending as though these matters had nothing to do with him. It seemed that Dyon's promise of cleansing bloodlines hadn't completely fallen on deaf ears.
Just when his words had finished, Dyon's grinning figure appeared above his shoulder.
"Your hide sure is tough. Take one of these for me… [Bloody Guillotine]."
The skies turned red. The illusion of an execution blade coated in dried blood flickered in the skies as Dyon's leg descended upon Yadmere's cheek.
BOOM!
The sound was more resounding than even Estein's slap to the face. Yadmere felt the foundations of his teeth quake, knocking several almost completely loose.
His enraged roar caused the ears of many to bleed, however Dyon had already flickered away by the time he retaliated, appearing before Estein with a fervent dėsɨrė for battle.
[A Winter's Last Snowfall] circulated once more, his sword separating into countless illusory and real images that forced the Ancestor to his backfoot.
Innumerable calculations circulated in Estein's mind, his continuously predicted the trajectories of Dyon's ȧssaults and accurately dodged or parried them with a palm. But he still felt this weighing feeling on his heart, as though he was continuously being pushed into a corner.
The battlefield had suddenly become a celestial chess board. Dyon's moves held an oppressive domineeringness to them. While Estein would take his time to decide on his next move, Dyon would respond without hesitation, as though on instinct.
It was only the Sapientia below that understood what was happening. Those Sapientia heiresses below who had been indignant on Aritzia's behalf felt completely stifled.
"This is impossible… His mind is several steps ahead of Ancestor Scholar…!"
No matter how much they hated Dyon, they knew that any man who gained Aritzia's acknowledgement couldn't be normal. But… This was too exaggerated!
Dyon casually looked over his shoulder. His exchange with Estein had constituted hundreds of attacks, but not even a second had passed. Just when he was getting engrossed, Yadmere made his presence felt once more.
However, what was astonishing was that his appearance had completely changed. Or, rather, it was changing.
With each passing strike, not only did the wrinkles on his body continuously fade, but his body was compressing in size.
30 meters… 20 meters… 10 meters…
Dyon's eyes flashed with a blinding light, immediately understanding what was happening. Others might have techniques that increased their size in order to increase their strength, but Giants were the opposite. When facing smaller opponents, their size was to their detriment. Over years of experimentation, how could they not have their own measures?
For every fold Yadmere shrunk, his battle prowess doubled! By the time he was just 2 meters tall, his strength had been raised by almost 16 times!
However, Dyon wasn't shaken by this reality. In fact, his smile intensified. His demeanor was so baffling that the two Ancestors felt completely stifled. How could there by a child like this in the world?!
"It seems that I've gone too easy on the two of you." Dyon's figure flickered and dodged as he retreated backward, narrowly escaping several of Yadmere's space rending strikes.
Before anyone could under the incredulous nature of Dyon's words, another change took place. Above his head, a halo of gold shimmered into existence. If before, Dyon was reminiscent of an angel, he truly looked no different from one now, come down to pass god's judgement.
However, to Dyon, he was the god.
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Dyon's body compared to Yadmere's was no different from an ant to a deity, however his momentum raged on as though it had no knowledge of such a thing.
His movement became profound and enigmatic. The sight of Estein's golden abacus appear in the air, a deep battle intent wafted from Dyon's body.
His sword streaked downward as he flashed to dodge Yadmere's fist.
The booming strike shook the dragon pillars, but Dyon had already appeared above his wrist, his sword making contact with his skin.
The sound of metal scraping metal disoriented the ears, causing Dyon's laughter to shake the skies.
To think that his blade wouldn't leave a scratch. But this reality only served to light the fighting intent in his gaze all the more.
A flurry of strikes erupted from Dyon's blade. One watching on could hardly believe their eyes. To see such beauty, such elegance, from such a crudely large sword… it didn't make sense.
'[A Winter's Last Snowfall]…'
Dyon's steps mesmerized the eyes as he ran up Yadmere's arm. Every swipe of his sword tore across the giant's robes, leaving faint white marks on his otherwise unblemished defenses.
It didn't take much to understand that Yadmere was thoroughly enraged. He was the esteemed Ancestor of the Giants. Yet a youth bȧrėly a fraction of his age was using his arm as though it was a roadway.
Unfortunately, though he could grasp the situation quickly enough to be enraged by this matter, Dyon was simply too fast. While he could fold space at will, Yadmere and Estein were restricted from doing so under the scroll's presence.
"Old Claw, are you really not going to make a move?!" Yadmere roared. However the only response he received was silence. Old Claw had long since closed his eyes, pretending as though these matters had nothing to do with him. It seemed that Dyon's promise of cleansing bloodlines hadn't completely fallen on deaf ears.
Just when his words had finished, Dyon's grinning figure appeared above his shoulder.
"Your hide sure is tough. Take one of these for me… [Bloody Guillotine]."
The skies turned red. The illusion of an execution blade coated in dried blood flickered in the skies as Dyon's leg descended upon Yadmere's cheek.
BOOM!
The sound was more resounding than even Estein's slap to the face. Yadmere felt the foundations of his teeth quake, knocking several almost completely loose.
His enraged roar caused the ears of many to bleed, however Dyon had already flickered away by the time he retaliated, appearing before Estein with a fervent dėsɨrė for battle.
[A Winter's Last Snowfall] circulated once more, his sword separating into countless illusory and real images that forced the Ancestor to his backfoot.
Innumerable calculations circulated in Estein's mind, his continuously predicted the trajectories of Dyon's ȧssaults and accurately dodged or parried them with a palm. But he still felt this weighing feeling on his heart, as though he was continuously being pushed into a corner.
The battlefield had suddenly become a celestial chess board. Dyon's moves held an oppressive domineeringness to them. While Estein would take his time to decide on his next move, Dyon would respond without hesitation, as though on instinct.
It was only the Sapientia below that understood what was happening. Those Sapientia heiresses below who had been indignant on Aritzia's behalf felt completely stifled.
"This is impossible… His mind is several steps ahead of Ancestor Scholar…!"
No matter how much they hated Dyon, they knew that any man who gained Aritzia's acknowledgement couldn't be normal. But… This was too exaggerated!
Dyon casually looked over his shoulder. His exchange with Estein had constituted hundreds of attacks, but not even a second had passed. Just when he was getting engrossed, Yadmere made his presence felt once more.
However, what was astonishing was that his appearance had completely changed. Or, rather, it was changing.
With each passing strike, not only did the wrinkles on his body continuously fade, but his body was compressing in size.
30 meters… 20 meters… 10 meters…
Dyon's eyes flashed with a blinding light, immediately understanding what was happening. Others might have techniques that increased their size in order to increase their strength, but Giants were the opposite. When facing smaller opponents, their size was to their detriment. Over years of experimentation, how could they not have their own measures?
For every fold Yadmere shrunk, his battle prowess doubled! By the time he was just 2 meters tall, his strength had been raised by almost 16 times!
However, Dyon wasn't shaken by this reality. In fact, his smile intensified. His demeanor was so baffling that the two Ancestors felt completely stifled. How could there by a child like this in the world?!
"It seems that I've gone too easy on the two of you." Dyon's figure flickered and dodged as he retreated backward, narrowly escaping several of Yadmere's space rending strikes.
Before anyone could under the incredulous nature of Dyon's words, another change took place. Above his head, a halo of gold shimmered into existence. If before, Dyon was reminiscent of an angel, he truly looked no different from one now, come down to pass god's judgement.
However, to Dyon, he was the god.
Dyon's body compared to Yadmere's was no different from an ant to a deity, however his momentum raged on as though it had no knowledge of such a thing. His movement became profound and enigmatic. The sight of Estein's golden abacus appear in the air, a deep battle intent wafted from Dyon's body. His sword streaked downward as he flashed to dodge Yadmere's fist. The booming strike shook the dragon pillars, but Dyon had already appeared above his wrist, his sword making contact with his skin. The sound of metal scraping metal disoriented the ears, causing Dyon's laughter to shake the skies. To think that his blade wouldn't leave a scratch. But this reality only served to light the fighting intent in his gaze all the more. A flurry of strikes erupted from Dyon's blade. One watching on could hardly believe their eyes. To see such beauty, such elegance, from such a crudely large sword it didn't make sense. 'A Winter's Last Snowfall' Dyon's steps mesmerized the eyes as he ran up Yadmere's arm. Every swipe of his sword tore across the giant's robes, leaving faint white marks on his otherwise unblemished defenses. It didn't take much to understand that Yadmere was thoroughly enraged. He was the esteemed Ancestor of the Giants. Yet a youth brly a fraction of his age was using his arm as though it was a roadway. Unfortunately, though he could grasp the situation quickly enough to be enraged by this matter, Dyon was simply too fast. While he could fold space at will, Yadmere and Estein were restricted from doing so under the scroll's presence. "Old Claw, are you really not going to make a move?!" Yadmere roared. However the only response he received was silence. Old Claw had long since closed his eyes, pretending as though these matters had nothing to do with him. It seemed that Dyon's promise of cleansing bloodlines hadn't completely fallen on deaf ears. Just when his words had finished, Dyon's grinning figure appeared above his shoulder. "Your hide sure is tough. Take one of these for me Bloody Guillotine." The skies turned red. The illusion of an execution blade coated in dried blood flickered in the skies as Dyon's leg descended upon Yadmere's cheek. BOOM! The sound was more resounding than even Estein's slap to the face. Yadmere felt the foundations of his teeth quake, knocking several almost completely loose. His enraged roar caused the ears of many to bleed, however Dyon had already flickered away by the time he retaliated, appearing before Estein with a fervent dsr for battle. A Winter's Last Snowfall circulated once more, his sword separating into countless illusory and real images that forced the Ancestor to his backfoot. Innumerable calculations circulated in Estein's mind, his continuously predicted the trajectories of Dyon's ssaults and accurately dodged or parried them with a palm. But he still felt this weighing feeling on his heart, as though he was continuously being pushed into a corner. The battlefield had suddenly become a celestial chess board. Dyon's moves held an oppressive domineeringness to them. While Estein would take his time to decide on his next move, Dyon would respond without hesitation, as though on instinct. It was only the Sapientia below that understood what was happening. Those Sapientia heiresses below who had been indignant on Aritzia's behalf felt completely stifled. "This is impossible His mind is several steps ahead of Ancestor Scholar!" No matter how much they hated Dyon, they knew that any man who gained Aritzia's acknowledgement couldn't be normal. But This was too exaggerated! Dyon casually looked over his shoulder. His exchange with Estein had constituted hundreds of attacks, but not even a second had passed. Just when he was getting engrossed, Yadmere made his presence felt once more. However, what was astonishing was that his appearance had completely changed. Or, rather, it was changing. With each passing strike, not only did the wrinkles on his body continuously fade, but his body was compressing in size. 30 meters 20 meters 10 meters Dyon's eyes flashed with a blinding light, immediately understanding what was happening. Others might have techniques that increased their size in order to increase their strength, but Giants were the opposite. When facing smaller opponents, their size was to their detriment. Over years of experimentation, how could they not have their own measures? For every fold Yadmere shrunk, his battle prowess doubled! By the time he was just 2 meters tall, his strength had been raised by almost 16 times! However, Dyon wasn't shaken by this reality. In fact, his smile intensified. His demeanor was so baffling that the two Ancestors felt completely stifled. How could there by a child like this in the world?! "It seems that I've gone too easy on the two of you." Dyon's figure flickered and dodged as he retreated backward, narrowly escaping several of Yadmere's space rending strikes. Before anyone could under the incredulous nature of Dyon's words, another change took place. Above his head, a halo of gold shimmered into existence. If before, Dyon was reminiscent of an angel, he truly looked no different from one now, come down to pass god's judgement. However, to Dyon, he was the god.
