Rebirth of the Nameless Immortal God

"The reason the Heavens don't like numbers aside from three and nine is that they act as strong pillars. There's no stronger simple structure than a triangle, and no stronger large structure than a collection of triangles.

"But those rules are written using the fundamental runes of this world." Dyon shrugged. "I'll just use the fundamental runes of another world that happens to love even numbers… especially the number 4 and multiples of it… Damned four horsemen…"

The talismans snaked through the air, rushing toward the delicate lines of gold Dyon practically embroidered into the air itself. It felt like the inner mechanisms of a clock were swirling around them… beautiful ticking and intricate pieces, turning gears, the way each small change affected each and every other part…

The talismans collapsed together along with the swirls of gold, coming together like beautiful pieces of origami.

The first five talismans formed the first five layers. In groups of two, the next eight talismans formed the next four layers. And finally, the last barrier was formed of three talismans, rounding it out with a perfect 16.

They all but fused into one. Whereas the barriers that surrounded the other groups were several feet thick, reaching over three meters, Dyon's own was just 6 inches thick. The layers could hardly be perceived.

"Tsk." Dyon muttered. "If I had an extra 30 minutes… Disappointing."

Normally, for a competition, the audience might be on the edge of their seats, eager to see who had come out on top. But somehow, they were all already aware of the answer.

"…. Innate aurora…" Were the only words the announcer managed to say.

The difference was simply too stark. Less than a fraction of the time to finish in a result more than ten times better. To make matters worse, it was clear that he still wasn't satisfied.

However, they took Dyon's attitude as him mocking them. If he really cared so much, he would have put more time aside. Clearly, he simply wasn't taking them seriously.

The leader of the Dimwell Clan had a savage pulse trembling along his forehead. His head really seemed like it might burst at any moment. By the time the formation testers made their way down, it really did seem like he was bordering on losing his cool.

Up on the judges' platform.

"He didn't try to find a method of circumventing the number problem. How is that even possible?"

The beard of the formation guild's head trembled. Even he felt that the competition task was a bit difficult. You could probably spend months calculating and deriving the formulations you'd need to build such an array. Doing so in 30 minutes was inconceivable.

Any other time, the formation guild head would simply think that Dyon was acting and that he had been thinking of the problem the entire time. But, even if he bothered with such thoughts… so what? Even if he had, hadn't the result spoken for themselves? Whether he was acting or not, did it even matter?

Empyrean Baron's gaze narrowed. He too didn't quite understand how to interpret this. His understanding of formations was quite high, but still several levels beneath the formation guild's head.

The audience itself was almost numb to the test phase. No, it was more accurate to say that they were numb for even the following two rounds. Whether it was the repair of a treasure task in round two, or the pill concoction with missing ingredients task of round three, neither was even close.

On the third round, instead of waiting like he had during the first two, Dyon actually started immediately. Concocting the pill with missing ingredients in just moments and turning to leave without waiting for the results. Maybe it was only now that they realized that Dyon wasn't a talisman inspriptionist, nor was he a weapon's smith… He was an alchemist.

"I believe I've done what was asked of me. I'll be taking my reward now."

"There's still three rounds left." Patriarch Nightwell responded coldly.

"Not my problem. I have no intension of putting myself in harm's way for your family. I only agreed to help you with these rounds and guaranteed you first place. Deal with the rest yourself. If you can't do that, you don't deserve to hold the crown in this realm anyway, and I'll just go and make a deal with the other two families."

Dyon's deadpan gaze swept over the Patriarch.

"I don't remember agreeing to such a thing. And, I don't plan on having anyone lead you there until this competition is over."

Dyon almost yawned at the response as though he was expecting it.

"Did you daughter forget to tell you? I'm a Spiritual Sage, I could have found your world core whenever I wanted. Your help is unneeded. You can consider it a courtesy that I haven't already gone ahead without your permission. If you want to retract that permission…" A fierce glint lit in Dyon's eyes. "… I promise you that I still have the ability to ensure you lose this. Try me."

Dyon swept his shoulder past the Clan Patriarch. It suddenly became very obvious to them all that Dyon was the taller of the two.

The truth was that Crystella hadn't forgotten to tell them. It was just that the Patriarch either made a mistake, or didn't believe that Dyon would dare to do such a thing. But by the time he gathered himself, Dyon really had left.

To make matters worse, Patriarch Nightwell, who was very much used to having his family on his side, looked around to see several displeased gazes. However, they weren't aim toward Dyon, but rather toward him. It really was pretty unseemly what he had just tried to do.

"Hmph."

The Patriarch looked away defiantly, unwilling to admit to anything.

**

"Is it alright to antagonize them like that?" Saru asked.

Dyon shrugged. "At this point, it doesn't matter anymore. Their Patriarch is too stupid to hide the truth, I can read him like a book. They're already planning something."

"They are?"