The only reason he had co here in the first place was because he felt that Athyst might be in trouble. The mont he saw Crystella's fan, he recognized that its build was nearly identical to Madeleine's. Fans were an incredibly niche and rare weapon to begin with, there was no universal build standard for them like there might be for other weapons. So, seeing two nearly identical products flipped Dyon's antennas up.
As for why he thought Athyst might be in trouble, it was simple really. What was she doing with the Dark Fla world? Why hadn't she gone to the Phoenix Hegemon?
Granted, her relationship with the Fire and Ice Phoenix Clans wasn't exactly the greatest due to what they had done to her parents, but those were matters of the mortal plane.
It was also possible that the Phoenix Hegemon found her existence to be a taboo. But in that case, it was still equally true that she would be in trouble. Having to hide from a Hegemon like the Dragon King had to wasn't exactly an easy task.
Simply put, he had co here to extend a helping hand in thanks for the karmic ties Athyst had with his wife, but he received an attack she probably wanted to be a killing blow in return.
'… Won…' Dyon all but rolled his eyes as he soared backward, crashing into an opposing wall and blowing by it.
Shock was the only thing that stopped Athyst from landing a follow up blow. She was keenly aware that her attack had caused next to no damage, a fact that left her stunned.
She hadn't held back even in the slightest. Of course, she hadn't used any techniques or her flas, so it ultimately tallied up to about 20% of her strength, but the fact of the matter was that that was the strongest attack she could muster without them.
On top of this, the reason she hadn't bothered to bring out her flas or any techniques was because she was cognizant of the fact that Dyon was a mortal. The amount of strength she had put into attacking him was already overkill in her mind. How the hell had he survived without any damage?
Dyon coughed, standing up from the rubble.
A sigh escaped his lips as he wiped the dust from his body, ignoring the shocked stares of the maidservants around him. It seed that Athyst had completely knocked him out from her courtyard. There were probably many others rushing here due to all the commotion.
Dyon rubbed his chest. '… Fuck that hurt…'
He turned a glare toward Athyst. "What the hell is wrong with you? Are you trying to kill your Inheritor's husband?"
The maidservants turned pale at Dyon's words. Let alone speaking to Athyst in such a way, even entering the ten ter radius of this courtyard's door was a massive taboo. Yet, this young man had not only barged in, but now he was actually saying such words?
Athyst, who could be seen through the massive gap in the walls she herself created, frowned.
She had honestly never expected to caused such a commotion because she had expected Dyon to be vaporized beneath her strike. If he was nothing but ash and blood, how could he possibly create such a hole? At worst she'd have to do so light dusting.
But now this matter was only getting bigger.
As though on cue, Crystella, her parents and her grandfather rounded a corner to see the see before them.
On one side there was the frowning Athyst, still holding her fan tightly in her hand. On the other was Dyon, who had a striking hole in his once pristine white shirt. And, in between them, there were several collapsed walls that would make the financiers of the Nightwell Clan cry themselves to sleep.
The eyes of Crystella's three elders narrowed toward the hole in Dyon's shirt. They could plainly see that he wasn't even the slightest bit hurt. But judging by the energy fluctuation from earlier, she shouldn't have been holding back.
"Forget it." Dyon shook his head. "I ca here to help you, but clearly it's a waste of my ti. I have better things to do than to stay here."
Dyon put his hands into his pockets and turned to leave. He didn't have the patience for this.
Hearing these words, Crystella panicked. She wanted to call out, but she didn't know what to say.
"Hold on a mont, young man." The wizened voice of Grandfather Nightwell called out.
"Yes?" Dyon looked over his shoulder.
At this point, there were even guards rushing over. There usually weren't any around Athyst's courtyard for the aforentioned taboos. But, they obviously had no choice to co now.
It was safe to say that Dyon's casual remark toward their retired Patriarch most definitely didn't sit well with them. And, this was especially so when they realized that Dyon was a mortal.
But, before they could act, Dyon swept a glance over them as though to say 'piss off'. There were no words exchanged, nor were there any energy fluctuations, but a cold sweat matted the backs of the battle hardened guards.
They stopped moving entirely, trying to hide their trembling with stiff upright postures.
"… It isn't very polite to instruct the servants of another household." The retired Patriarch said slowly.
"Maybe not." Dyon said with a shrug. "Wouldn't be necessary though if their owner was better."
The old man's gaze narrowed. "You really don't fear , do you?"
"Is there a reason I should?"
"I know of your confrontation with the black dragon. I would likely be greatly rewarded for giving that information over."
"Please do so, you'd be greatly helping out." Dyon replied nonchalantly. "I want those lizards to know that I'm coming.
"And, call him 'black dragon' again and you'll make an enemy out of . His title is Dragon King."
"That's enough!" Crystella's father took a furious step forward, causing the mansion to quake. "Watch your words boy, or I'll cut your tongue out."
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