Reaper of the Martial World

Book 12: Chapter 154: Steles (3)

Dyon smiled when he made it to the kilometer mark of the God Stele. And, without even a drop of hesitation, crossed the line.

The image of what looked like a young man, wearing plain black pants and an equally plain white shirt could be seen. Those in the surroundings didn’t dare to step forward, whether it be because of the blockade Saru and Lilith provided, or the danger that lied ahead, both could be said to be reasons.

However, the pressure they expected Dyon to face seemed to have never come.

His strides were long, a single one helping him to cross ten meters with ease. He didn’t seem to be running, and even looked like he was having a leisurely stroll, yet his pace was incomparably fast. It didn’t even begin to slow until he was within one hundred meters.

Dyon’s footsteps paused. Compared to the dead geniuses he had crossed past, those who had come this close were a sparse few. However, even with this being the case, there were still a handful.

They all held proud expressions on their faces. Though some of the geniuses behind Dyon managed to keep their dignity and serenity in the face of death, many more had twisted expressions of unwillingness, resentment and hatred.

That was right, they hated the Stele, resented it for looking down on them. From their vantage point, it was sneering at them from a distance, telling them that they simply weren’t worthy of being on their level.

However, the geniuses who crossed the mark Dyon stood at now weren’t like this. Many of them were calm, with a single ripple. The few that did hold expressions in death either seemed to be sighing or even had a hint of reverence hidden within their visage.

This was a dividing line of geniuses.

Those who could only resent and hate others for their own failures weren’t worthy of travelling so far. And, those who could make it this far were those with firm dao hearts who were accepting of their failures.

In the distance, many who were watching on sighed a breath of relief. The crowd was growing larger and larger. After all, it has been billions of years since the last Gauntlet. How could they miss such a thing? But they had never expected to find the genius who began the gauntlet to have entered such a path of death.

The only ones who seemed emotionless toward this turnout were Saru and Lilith. While others either felt it was a pity a good show ended so quickly and still others were sneering at Dyon for overestimating himself, they were like the steady surface of a lake.

A mere God Stele? Even the Divine Tablet was five parts respectful and another five parts reverent toward their husband, let alone a mere God Stele which couldn’t be ranked amongst those 33 treasures.

“Since you all died with smiles on your faces, you do indeed deserve another chance for the courage you’ve displayed.” Dyon said softly.

Maybe the him of the past wouldn’t care about such a thing. To him, the only things that mattered were his own goals and those of his family. What did other people have to do with him?

But today… He suddenly felt like doing something on a whim.

Dyon took another step forward.

Others didn’t know, but he was well aware that these geniuses weren’t dead. Rather, their dao hearts weren’t firm enough and they had fallen into an illusion.

The God Stele was the Stele the Venerable, Empyrean, and Certification Steles were all modeled after. However, those latter three didn’t have the power the final did.

The God Stele could be considered Pill Sword Mountain’s progenitor’s finest achievement. It was a treasure created to aid in enlightenment along the dao of alchemy. The issue, though, was that the method was a bit forced.

It attempted to simulate oneness with the Heavens by forcing one into an illusion. Within that illusion, the mysteries of heaven and earth were very clear. However, due to their clarity, it was difficult to extricate oneself. If you travelled too closely and reached beyond your means, being trapped here forever was practically written in stone.

However, extricating them… Only took a bit of effort on his part.

In what seemed like the blink of an eye, Dyon made it to the base of the God Stele and his fist rocketed forward under the shocked gazes of countless alchemists.

BANG BANG BANG

At this point, the Venerables and Empyreans who got word of their challenge had all rushed over. After all, they had no choice. If they didn’t appear, their names would be erased from the Stele. In that case, they’d practically be finished.

They really had no idea who had the gall to do something like this, but before they could even vent their anger, they found Dyon hammering away at the God Stele.

The skies open and split apart, a long slit with the God Stele as its center steadily growing as though a sword as slashed apart the Heavens themselves.

Every punch was like a stomp on the hearts of alchemists across the immortal plane. One after another, slumbering Immortal Gods opened their eyes, flashes that crossed impossible distances blazing within their gazes as they all looked toward one singular direction.

Blood flew from Dyon’s fists, a wild, maddening grin smearing his handsome features.

It had been a long time since he felt so alive.

The God Stele erupted into a ray of red gold, dispersing the clouds above and raining down droplets of light below.

The three Steles synergized, singing as though a thirst they had held for eons was finally being quenched.

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