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Book 11: Chapter 11: Dwarves (2)

Countless eyes fell on Dyon’s body. What was once a space filled with hustle and bustle became deathly quiet, everyone turning their attention toward a single cloaked man.

Before, the fact Dyon’s head was covered in a black cloak wasn’t too damning. After all, in a place like this where valuable goods were traded, there was no shortage of individuals who found it useful to hide their identities.

The Ancient Battlefield was particularly lawless. Even more so than the martial plane that decided everything based on strength to begin with. Protecting one’s self was of the utmost importance.

However, now, Dyon’s cloaked figure suddenly went from something normal to something filled with an overwhelming conspiracy. Still, what was odd to those watching was that Dyon didn’t seem to have any violent reaction to his suddenly becoming the absolute center of attention.

One had to understand that though this place was lacking in rules and ‘territory’ was nearly meaningless, there were still some lines that couldn’t be crossed. No matter how many non-dwarves there were here, this was still acknowledged as their sphere of influence.

Clearly, whoever this cloaked figure was, had elicited their ire. Yet, he wasn’t running. Was he not aware of how powerful the dwarves were?

In the end, though, this was still a place where one minded their own business. The more you focused on your own matters and ignored everything else, the higher likelihood you had for survival. As a result, a large majority were content to just sit back and watch, only a minor few who were more confident in their abilities were thinking of how to take advantage of this situation.

It wasn’t until even more than a small split second later that someone acted.

He was a large male of massive standing. His qi cultivation was only at the saint realm, but his body was no weaker than a Fallen.

Oddities like this were frequent on the Ancient Battlefield. Qi cultivation was simply too difficult, which was why those who reached high realms in it were so powerful.

However, this wasn’t to say that body cultivation was easy. Even though this man was only a saint, his strength was impressive. Unfortunately… His opponent was Dyon.

Just as Dyon was reading to send a glance over toward this man who was overestimating himself, the skies rumbled as a single lone lightning bolt descended.

If one was less informed, this lightning bolt would appear to be incredibly weak. It was only about as thick as a finger, and it was just a pale yellow, the very same shade as the weakest form lightning could take.

Yet, the moment it struck the man seeking to capture Dyon, likely in order to exchange his head for compensation, he burst into a pile of ashes. There was no roar of pain, no struggle, and not even a hint of animosity. It was no different from snuffing out an ant.

Dyon’s eyes narrowed at this turn of events. It seemed that even with all his knowledge, he still underestimated the Ancient Battlefield. Just how difficult would it be to cross a tribulation here?

“He’s… He’s an invader!”

It was only after the lightning bolt had finished its work and a moment of silence pervaded the bazaar that someone finally reacted.

There was only one explanation for all of this. Dyon was an Invader and his attacker just now was above the age of 1000 years old!

The rules of the first phase were obscure. It was to the point that many just accepted that they didn’t understand them at all. However, there were still a few things they did understand.

One was related to invading geniuses and how one could either choose to kill or take them in. The other was about Faith and its importance as a central component of his phase. And lastly, they knew that attacking an invader if one was above the age of 1000 years old would result in your death 100% of the time!

The only loop around to this rule is if said invader initiated an attack against you. Then you were free to retaliate as you pleased. However, which invader would do something so foolish?

Knowing Dyon’s identity, many nonchalant glances began to blaze with animosity. However, it was too rare for those younger than a millennium to be dealing in these places. Those who could were absolute geniuses who would take part in bazaars of higher standing nearer the core of dwarven territory, not the outskirts.

However, even though there was no one capable of facing Dyon now, several blazing auras began converging from all sides. At first, it was a handful, but it quickly became dozens, and then hundreds.

A light smile curled Dyon’s lip. He had missed this. He hadn’t stretched his limbs in a long time.

It wasn’t long before the skies were surrounded. Dyon, who hadn’t taken a single step from start to finish, still blazed with a red aura that continuously shot into the skies like a pillar. In reality, he could have gotten rid of it long ago, but why bother for now? It was a convenience to him at this point.

Looking into the skies with a nonchalant gaze, Dyon slowly removed his hood.

In the next instant, the bazaar was graced with the appearance of a young man with long silver-blue hair that reached the small of his back. His body was covered in gorgeous silver armor that alternated into pristine white leather that seemed cut from the scales of a white dragon. He looked no different from a fairy tale prince, his pointed ears and gentle blue eyes giving him an enchanting air.

“Seems I don’t need this anymore.” Dyon said lightly, tossing his cloak to the side.