Singularity type manifestation techniques ensure a particular kind of manifestation, however, so does the bloodline of families. Ri already made it clear to him that only major families have Singularity type techniques. Yet, Jade just said that the Benes family gained an advantage because of their manifestation. This meant, that while the technique plays a role, so does a person’s bloodline, which is probably why the major families were the most powerful.
When Dyon thought of Mithrandir, from talks around him, he knew that her manifestation was as a result of the unique type manifestation technique. However, he also heard that her manifestation was identical to the founder of the Norville family. Which meant that her manifestation probably didn’t stray too far from what was provided by the Singularity type technique.
This made Dyon wonder what the point of the singularity type technique was. Suddenly, a thought flashed in Dyon’s mind: the singularity type technique was there to ensure that the bloodline never faded.
Imagine if the Norville family, as an example, went generations without birthing a genius like Mithrandir. This would mean that the bloodline’s strength would dwindle again and again. Making it less and less likely that another Mithrandir would appear. However, what if that bloodline was rejuvenated with a technique? Almost like stimulating it with whatever made the bloodline great to begin with. Wouldn’t that keep the family going?
Unknowingly, Dyon had deduced a tightly kept secret of the major families… And he also had an interesting thought to go along with it… if Singularity Type technique rejuvenate bloodlines, wouldn’t it be a high level body cultivation technique as well as a soul cultivation technique?
Wouldn’t that mean that the Elves, who were so hung up on soul cultivation, owed much of their power to a form they neglected? Wouldn’t that also mean that should Dyon ever get his hands on any singularity type techniques, that he’d gain the body of an elf?
‘Oh my, I can get more handsome?’ Dyon thought chuckling to himself, ‘clearly the beauty of elves isn’t as simple as being descendants of gods… or maybe… it’s exactly because of that reason…’
“I see… thank you fairy,” Dyon smiled lightly.
Ignoring Mithrandir’s hateful glance and Primrose’s conflicted expression, Dyon suddenly got up.
“Uncle Acacia, sorry for not being a very tactful person, but I think it’s actually quite pathetic for the two academies to come here and flaunt their nonsense. So, how about I send them on their way for you? They must be wondering how good your judgement is right? I’ll make it clear.
“Grimbold scum, you can bring your ass here first. Grimbold is quite the warrior’s name, no? Let’s see how much of a warrior you are.”
The surroundings erupted, the crowd couldn’t withhold their sneers anymore.
“To call the Grimbold family scum… how arrogant!”
Dyon couldn’t be bothered with the whispers, instead flashing and appearing on the center arena under the sparkling eyes of Jade and her friends.
However, not all of them looked on in interest.
Mithrandir turned her cold gaze towards Dyon’s figure with a look that could kill.
‘You’re ignorant. You have no idea how Elves battle, you know next to nothing about martial arts, and yet you have the audacity to be so cocky after only training for a year? And now you want to beat the member of a major family? Enjoy your early death. No one will save you. Your life means nothing to us.’
Ores’ feet were heavy as he slowly walked towards the stage. His aura was stifling, the sky seemingly darkened with his every step.
His muscles rippled, sending his simple linen shirt into the wind. The battle axe on his back seemed to vibrate with anticipation.
Every step was like an attempt to crush Dyon’s heart, to crush his arrogance, to crush any means of resistance.
Weaker students shivered. The pungent smell of piss filled the area under the terrace and even reached the regular audience.
Grabbing his axe from his back, Ores swung it leisurely, but the air seemed to slice willingly. Bowing down to his skill and his power.
Ores leaped.
BOOM!
He landed three meters from Dyon. To him, this distance was enough for an instant kill.
He loomed above, staring down at Dyon with disdain. A Dyon who didn’t seem to have any intention of moving despite the danger.
Ores’ voice rang out, carrying a domineering will, “I’ll only give you one chance. Take out a weapon and defend yourself, or else you won’t know how you died.”
Dyon’s arm trembled, causing Ores to sneer.
“It’s too late to be afraid now. You’ve blasphemed the Grimbold name. Today you won’t leave without becoming a cripple. Either that. Or you won’t leave at all.”
Suddenly, Dyon yawned.
“What are you talking about,” Dyon brought his hand over, he scratched an itch, “I just felt so disgusted by your presence that I gained the irresistible urge to scratch myself all over.”
The crowd froze as Ores’ face darkened.
“You have quite a lot of nerve. I’m going to have fun showing you the difference between you and I,” Ores raised his axe, a gleam of hot and raging fire gracing the blade.
Dyon looked up with an interested expression. ‘4th level Meridian Formation… 34 opened meridians… not bad. At such a young age, considering he must have only recently begun cultivating, he definitely has a good chance of stepping into the saint stage.’
BOOM!
Ores’ axe stopped inches from Dyon’s face, a dazzling array swirled with complex gold, not showing a hint of wavering to Ores’ power.
Ores’ eyebrows furrowed. “Is this how Acacia Academy does battle? Array Plates? How pitiful.”
The crowd booed, disgusted with Dyon’s actions.
Elder Cormyth sneered along with the geniuses brought from the other academies. “Is this your so-called genius?”
Uncle Acacia said nothing, instead lightly smiling. He sent a look over to Ri who was smirking. Clearly, she knew something.
Dyons sighed. “You know, I’m tired of my genius getting mistaken for the work of others…”
“You dare to still say that this is your genius? If I wanted to use a practitioner level plate, you think my family wouldn’t be able to buy hundreds, if not thousands for me? You disgust me. Not only is your lineage subpar, your character is even worse. You don’t have the spirit of a warrior. You aren’t worthy of dying by my axe,” Ores put his battle axe away, intent on walking away.
Suddenly, the air changed around Dyon. A Demonic will permeated the air. The anger was clear in his eyes.
“My lineage? Subpar?”
As enraged as Dyon already was, the one thing a person should never do before him is insult his parents. Ores seemed to have foolishly crossed even this line.
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