Suddenly, the singular Pseudo Dao experts spoke. His words were so ridiculous that the Patriarch almost fell into another bout of laughter.
“Sure, sure. You can charge. But only warriors below the pseudo dao realm. Don’t bla for what happens if you don’t listen.”
Dyon could very clearly see the pitiful appearances of his so-called warriors. Aside from the Demon Generals, it seed as if everyone else was made of cowards. But, Dyon wouldn’t think of them as such. It was normal for individuals to feel nervous during their first true wars. Plus, it was impossible to forge battle hardened warriors just because of two months of training.
However, this reality still worked in Dyon’s favor. The more they underestimated him, the better.
Dyon’s words beca akin to an egg smashing into an ancient rock. Unlike his warriors, the elites of the Raven Clan were battle tested and strong. Their strength was sothing that couldn’t be asured by simple number differences. Even if they had less of an army in comparison to Dyon, they would still be stronger.
With this being true, they weren’t even fazed by Dyon’s words, nor did they hesitate. They charged forward like a fog of blood, their confidence unmatched.
This was the first ti they got to truly battle on their ho turf. Knowing that their enemies would be suppressed to a re fraction of their strength, it was no wonder they were so confident.
Like a torrential rain, they flooded into the ranks of Dyon’s army and a bloody slaughter ensued.
Dyon stood above it all, not lifting a single finger. He watched as his n fell one after another. It was quite a pathetic sight. Despite being drilled repeatedly for two months, they seemingly forgot everything in the span of a single minute.
Squads fell apart, forgetting their best chance at survival was staying together as one. Their discipline within the sphere formation bordered on ridiculous, allowing pincer attacks to accumulate from the bottom, sides, and top. To make matters worse, they were timid in the face of their enemies. The vast majority of the Raven Clan’s elites were Heaven Grade beasts, but the majority of Dyon’s army were re Earth Grade beasts, the suppression they faced was twofold – both from the universe and their enemies.
Seeing Dyon’s inaction, the morale only seed to plunge further and further.
Weren’t you so high and mighty when you were fighting us during those two months? Why aren’t you doing anything to help us now?
Many were completely enraged, but what could they do? Under Monet’s ability, they were compelled to stand their ground. The beasts believed that this was because after controlling so many of them, Dyon was limited in refining that control. But the truth was Dyon didn’t give them anymore commands through Monet because he didn’t want to.
He wanted to see the true abilities of these beasts.
Whether they liked it or not, Dyon already saw these warriors as his own people. He didn’t plan on having Monet control them forever. What kind of leader would he be if he did sothing so ridiculous? He simply wanted them to show him their potential.
But the reality could only make him sigh.
To now, Dyon was flooded with talents all around him. His wives, his friends, his subordinates, each seed more outstanding than the last. Maybe due to so good karma he had accumulated in a last life, he had always had people he could rely on around him.
This was the first ti that this wasn’t the case… And it greatly troubled him.
Could he face the other tower quadrants with such a pitiful lineup of subordinates? What of the Outer Powers? Even worse, what of the descent of the Ancient Battlefield and the countless conspiracies brewing around it?
No… Could he even face the Ragnors with these individuals as his foundation?
Dyon sighed. He was definitely right. Setting a distant 110-year tiline would be foolish. If he didn’t fundantally change the makeup of this quadrant, they would have no chance once the battlefield descended. Just like the previous tiline, they’d be wiped from the face of the Mortal Plane.
Suddenly, Dyon’s head looked up from the battlefield, watching a single figure rush toward him.
It seed the Pseudo Dao experts were laughing amongst themselves. But, an elder must have told them that they wanted to end the battle early, so they were forced to move.
While the rest of them moved to slaughter the ‘easy pickings’ that were Dyon’s warriors, a single one rushed toward Dyon. They probably disdained to gang up on Dyon but sohow found slaughtering saints and celestials perfectly acceptable.
Dyon frowned. “Weren’t my words clear enough? I said that no one above the Peak Celestial Realm can participate.”
The pseudo-dao expert rushing toward Dyon sneered, his hooked nose wrinkling with disgust and disdain.
It was at that mont that Patriarch Raven suddenly realized sothing. That face… He recognized it. Wasn’t that?!
“I said…!” Dyon’s voice bood, a shock wave of sound pushed outward so fiercely that the pseudo dao expert who disdained to answer suddenly felt his ears rupture.
In the next instant, his head began to vibrate uncontrollably. Everything was happening in a re split second, but his thinking speed was so fast as a pseudo-dao expert that he felt every mont of his head splitting like a waterlon.
“… That no one above the Peak Celestial Realm will participate!”
A barrier of qi suddenly appeared before the near 10 000 charging pseudo dao experts, sending them flying backward in a rain of their own blood.
Patriarch Raven trembled in both shock and rage. This was the man who killed his beloved son!
Reviews
All reviews (0)