330 Gather 1
The eyes of the demon generals and Ri couldn't help but widen. What was he doing?!
"Dyon…" Ri wanted to reach out and stop him, but a demon general named Thadius gently pulled her back.
"Mistress Sacharro, the successor isn't stupid. He must be doing this for a reason."
Ri could only nod and pull back, trying to focus her attention on nosy incomers as opposed to her worry.
The truth was that they could all tell that Dyon's cultivation hadn't even stepped into the essence gathering realm yet. And, another thing that was clear was that he wasn't circulating an energy cultivation technique. This all meant that whatever was pulling saint energy to Dyon, had nothing to do with a cultivation deviation. It was a phenomenon that none of them had seen before, and it was likely that even the successor hadn't planned for this.
However, this was only becoming a bigger and bigger problem.
Dyon's break through was sending waves through the entire city and there were very few who weren't doing their utmost to find out just what was going on.
Breakthroughs into the saint realm were rare enough. But, a break through done out in the open? No one could understand how this cultivator hadn't been prepared for this. And considering how powerful the breakthrough was, it didn't seem like this was the type of cultivator to make such mistakes.
In a normal setting, a breakthrough into the saint realm would not only be highly guarded, but it would also involve copious amounts of array formations in an attempt to temper the impact and reduce the amount who sensed it. Why? Because breakthroughs were an incredibly sensitive time period…
The only question that was left was why Dyon wasn't prepared. The simply answer was that he just didn't know.
For one, he had seen the boost in his soul as separate from himself, instead of the part of him that it was. So, instead of being aware that he was breaking into the saint stage, he assumed that he was still in the essence gathering soul stages. This couldn't be blamed on Dyon. Afterall, a perfect innate aurora was the stuff of legends. And a soul talent mighty enough to allow a 15, soon to be 16, year old to host a saint soul was too fanciful even for fiction. To anyone else, the thought of hosting anything even remotely similar to sainthood should take hundreds of years. And, that number was still counted in decade amounts even for the best of geniuses.
And yet… Dyon had only cultivated for less than a year if one ignores the times he was incapacitated!
Then there was the fact that Dyon simply hadn't been aware of what it took for his soul to mend itself. To say his energy cultivation talent was poor before he met his grand teacher would have been an understatement… The more accurate comment would be that his energy cultivation was completely non-existent – even to the point where he himself couldn't tell that he had no meridians to speak of.
So, knowing that, how would Dyon have sensed the essence energy his soul was taking in to mend itself? He didn't know his soul needed energy because he couldn't sense it. There was no way for him to grasp exactly what was going on. But, now that the seal on his energy cultivation was gone, it was suddenly very clear to him exactly what happened when his soul reached a new stage…
Another roar tore through Dyon's throat as patches of his skin burst apart. Streaks of blood dripped down Dyon's torso as his body seemed to expand to another size. However… This didn't seem to be a tear associated with his soul burst from him. Just what was going on?
The first to arrive on the scene were members of the Cavositas God Clan. Chaos Arena was a mere few hundred meters from this 'inn' because Dyon had felt it was best to get Eli and RI treated as quickly as possible. But, it seemed that that decision had come back to bite him.
The tiles of the inn's roof shattered and burst, flinging off into the air and down toward shrieking civilians. Dyon tried his best to aim his surge of energy upward, but there was only so much control to be had in a situation like this.
In the air, the receptionist stood behind the young masters that had dictated his actions just a few days ago… Ace and his elder brother Voron Cavositas. But, they weren't alone. Vidar and Elof Ragnor were both there as well. It was clear that the four of them had coordinated to conspire again Dyon and Ri, and although they had failed, it seemed that they had just found a new opportunity.
From their appearances, it was clear that they were still very much hobbled from the campaign, but not so much that they wouldn't be in peak health within the few weeks left to the tournament.
"Livy." Voron Cavositas spoke out.
"Yes, young master?"
"What exactly is going on here? Is that who I think it is? And if so, how is this possible?"
Although Voron could tell that this person was likely Dyon, especially by Ri's nervous nearby figure, he couldn't wrap his head around just what was going on. Was this truly cultivation deviation? But, what kind of deviation called for such a large influx of saint energy? At most the saint energy Dyon had foolishly absorbed would have already killed him, there was no need for nature to practically act as a funnel for Dyon.
The receptionist, Livy, thought much the same thing. He couldn't bring himself to believe anything close to what the truth was. Just a few days ago he had been lecturing Dyon on what a saint was. There was no way that Dyon would now be becoming a saint. It didn't make sense.
"It's as you think young master. He's simply an idiot trying to touch a cultivation realm he was never meant to."
Elof and Ace couldn't help but snicker at the Livy's response. They had assumed much the same thing, they had no clue that the receptionist had only said this to make himself feel better. But, Voron and Vidar knew different. So, they took their next step with caution.
"Bring a few more saint level experts, Livy. We're going to detain him for causing a public disturbance. His immaturity and quite frankly irresponsible cultivation is causing casualties among our citizens and we can't allow that."
A devious grin spread on Livy's features as he disappeared in a flash. He hadn't been paying attention to why his young master seemed to think more saints were needed. But, if he had, he would have noticed ten white haired experts bearing down on Arena City…
No. The term expert didn't suffice. These ten were demons.