Book 3: Chapter 25: Answer
Jade’s features smirked. In fact, she looked as beautiful as she had before the day her and the Eostre family were exposed. Since Dyon had no memories of her horrible state, it was likely the old man didn’t bother to check on Jade’s current appearance… But, maybe, that was for the best.
Dyon was already close to his break point just from listening to the thoughts of four. If you added Jade’s anger and Meiying’s sadness on top of that… He didn’t know how much he could handle.
And, maybe the worst part was the fact he was home… and yet all he had seen up till now were things from the martial world…
However, with every sentence these women spoke, it was as though their pain became Dyon’s. It wasn’t just the words that hurt… it was the emotion behind them that was getting to Dyon.
Suddenly, Jade laughed. “Were you hoping that that was all? Aren’t you forgetting about a few people?”
Suddenly Eli and his elder sister Venus suddenly materialized, crying in each other’s arms. Uncle Ail wrapped his arms around them, trembling.
They sent glances toward Dyon, but it seemed like something was holding them back from
“Did you even think about what would happen to the Viridi family after you left?” Jade chuckled lightly as she circulated Dyon.
“Was it a secret that you and Eli were good friends? Was it a secret that you killed Baal partly for Venus? Did Elof and Ace seem like magnanimous people to you? Did you think they just accepted their losses before heading home with their tails between their legs? Or do you think they pressured the big sects into belittling and ruining the Viridi family?”
Dyon’s jaw tightened, his teeth clenching together so tightly that he felt blood filling in his mouth. And yet, all this time, Ava and Delia still clung tightly to him and Madeleine and Ri never stopped looking from each other to him.
“I’d be surprised if the Viridi family is much of anything anymore. You thought you didn’t see Venus here because she was a woman? How sexist of you. What if she’s working away her young days to try and help a family that no longer has any backing? What if she’s sold her body to try and make up for your mistakes? Even worse, what if her and her entire family have been sold to the Ragnor family to add to their slaves? Did you even think about any of this?”
‘It’s okay big sister. When Dyon finds out he’ll be really angry! Then he’ll help us!’
The bleeding of Dyon’s chest seemed to increase even further at Eli’s words. Was this really what happened? Was the Viridi family sold as slaves?
‘Big brother?… Did you kill my mom?’
Dyon’s head snapped toward Little Black who was in his human form, holding onto Little Lyla’s hand tightly while keeping his head lowered to the ground.
Blood seeped from Dyon’s lips as he thought back to the legacy world opening… Because he was too arrogant and jumped into a situation he should have avoided entirely, the last sliver of his master’s soul was forced to be used to protect him. Any chance she had had in reviving was completely erased with that one act. Dyon didn’t even know if there was any of her soul left…
“Little Black I…” Dyon could only clench his teeth when he realized no sounds came from his moving lips. He could only watch as tears fell from Little Black eyes, his heart losing another piece of itself.
‘It’s okay little one, I’m here. I’ll take care of you. As long as we stay away from Dyon, nothing bad will happen.’
Dyon couldn’t even bring himself to look at the materialized form of Ms. Everdeen. His mind was filled with thoughts of a burning orphanage and the corpse of a poor old woman mutilated and hanging from the tree.
Jade giggled lightly. “Are you wondering why I killed her? Are you trying to say that it isn’t your fault since it was me and not Zaltarish? After all, it was Zaltarish you looked down on. Not me, right?”
Jade’s laughter only grew louder. “You had the audacity to flirt with me. Then you tell me a few days later that you have a fiancée. You deserved what you got. Someone had to teach you a lesson.”
Jade stopped in front of Dyon, knocking Ava and Delia away and grabbing onto his shaft much too tightly. “Maybe I should just cut it off, hm? Then you won’t have to think with it so much.”
Looking up into Dyon’s eyes, Jade suddenly found a sliver of defiance. “What? It took the idea of losing this thing to snap you out of it? How fitting.
Mm. Did you think about how I felt? Finally finding a man that wasn’t thinking about me just in terms of my looks, just to find out he had someone else? And worse yet, that for that person, he was willing to completely ignore someone like Mithrandir? That’s quite frustrating, don’t you think?”
Suddenly, Jade let go, moving backward toward the door with a slight smile. “Maybe this torture is too easy for you. Maybe you just don’t care about us from the martial world enough. Maybe it’s time you dealt with something that really hits close to home, hm?”
Dyon’s vision blackened and he was suddenly brought into an empty church.
Near the front, gripping the edge of a coffin tightly, stood a tall black man.
The ever so slight trembling of his body was the only thing that let you know he was alive. Other than that, he was completely still.
It seemed as though it was hours before Dyon was finally allowed to step forward to see what was really going on.
But… The answer was something that made tears of blood begin to streak down his face.
“Dad…” Dyon’s voice didn’t sound out, but he felt like it took all of his strength to even mouth that word.
His father stood in a state Dyon had never seen before. His handsome face was drenched in tears as he gripped the side of the coffin, silently muttering to himself.
But, the view of the coffin itself was something Dyon couldn’t bring himself to look at… Because he knew what it held… And it wasn’t someone he could stand to see.
And yet, against his wishes, his feet began to move.
No matter how hard he struggled, his steps remained steady, pushing him up the church steps to stand right beside his trembling father.
Dyon’s head tilted downward, forcing him to look at the woman who lay in the coffin peacefully.
His mother was a white woman with delicate features. Her hair was a long brunette strung with the petals of flowers, adorning her in death. And yet, even in death, her face still held a rosy color that made it seem as though she could stand at any moment.
‘I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you…’
Dyon didn’t need to look over for his father’s deep voice to fill his ears. He couldn’t help but tremble under the sound – one he hadn’t heard in what seemed like a lifetime.
‘I’ll protect him until my time comes… He’ll be strong and as stubborn as his father. But, he’ll be as caring and as loving as his mother. I’ll do my best to make up for my failures with you, with our son. I promise… I promise…’
Suddenly, the room shifted around Dyon again.
He was in the same church, except this time, there was only a ten-year-old boy a bit tall for his age standing in front of a coffin.
The boy clenched his fists so tightly that blood dripped to the floor, saying not a single word as tears streamed down his face.
To Dyon, it was as though he was experiencing his parent’s death all over again. The pain of his father. The pain of his younger self. They were as palpable as they had been that day. And yet, all he could do was watch.
Dyon felt his world spinning. He looked down at his hands to suddenly notice they were shrinking. He was melding together with his younger self!
The room changed once again, and this time, he was in a training ground with his father running right at him.
“Keep your hands up Dyon! How could you lose to such a pathetic excuse for a man? Who the fuck is Darius Storm to a Sacharro. And you lost to him!?
This is all because you don’t listen to me! You’re too arrogant and you don’t listen to authority!”
Dyon’s father’s fist slammed into Dyon’s forearms, sending him flying.
Dyon grunted, it was almost like the pain was being magnified. He could feel his own flesh tearing, but, at the same time, he could feel his father’s heart aching because of the pain he was causing his son.
And yet, Sacharro’s face remained as cold as steel. “Tell me! What does being a Sacharro mean?!”
Dyon crawled up, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth. “It means being smart in your fearlessness.”
“It means being smart in your fearlessness! It means recognizing your betters! It means respecting your elders and the authority they hold! You listen to none of these things!
If you had put on all of your armor instead of just the arm guards, do you think that Storm boy would have beaten you to half an inch of your life? Do you think you were very cool staring death down in your loss? Sacharro’s don’t lose!”
Dyon nodded his small head in agreement, lifting his fists up. “Sacharro’s don’t lose.”
“You’ve become to complacent in your intelligence. Too confident in your talent. Too satisfied with your past accomplishments. You need to remember the hunger that drives you. You need to stop doing things for your mother and me and do things for yourself. Do you understand?”
Before Dyon could respond, his surroundings changed again.
He had suddenly become even smaller. His hands wrapped around a knife and fork much too large for him as he sat at the marbled island of an elegant kitchen, watching the back of a petite woman working from the stove.
“Mom?”
Dyon almost couldn’t contain his excitement as his voice actually made a sound this time.
“Hm? Is something wrong Dyon? Do you want more pasta?” Dyon’s mom turned around, wiping her hands on her apron as she went to sit beside him.
“Dyon? What’s wrong? Why are you crying? Did something happen at school? Tell mommy.”
A soft arm wrapped around Dyon as a hand wiped tears he couldn’t stop.
However, the moment didn’t last long before Dyon was back in the church, his moments of warmth torn from him without warning.
Suddenly, the room shifted again and he was in a dark cemetery, looking at the tomb stones of the both of his parents in front of him.
Dyon sat there for a long time, the thoughts of his women and his parents running through his mind again and again for days on end…
He didn’t get a chance to listen to the things his mom had tried to ingrain in him from his youth, but they had never left his mind unlike like words of his father.
She always wanted him to act based on what was in his heart. He was supposed to always treat women well, complimenting them whenever he could. He was meant to help those in need whenever he could, especially when it was more than within his power to do so. These were the words of his mother…
It suddenly became very obvious to Dyon that this was a trial, yes, but, it was also a reminder… To remember the words of his parents. To remember his every action had consequences. To remember not to forget where you came from and the things you learned while you were there…
“Well played old man…”
Dyon took a last look at the tomb of his parents before he closed his eyes.
“Well played…”
Suddenly, all of Dyon’s senses were cut off again. He was immersed in pure darkness.
“You’re quite annoying kid. You weren’t supposed to figure out that I was trying to help so quickly. You were Supposed to despair over your parents’ graves for another few weeks. Where is my entertainment!?”
‘I’m not in the mood old man.’
“Pft. Look at you forgetting your father’s words already. RESPECT YOUR ELDERS. So ungrateful.”
Dyon sighed. ‘You’re right. I’m sorry grand teacher. Thank you for your help.”
“That’s more like it.”
‘Also, grand teacher, you never told me. How do I conquer this tower?’
“Hm. Normally, I would have just given the key to the first person to enter the tower under these circumstances.”
‘What happened if it wasn’t under these circumstances?’
“The void tears wouldn’t be here, so you’d conquer it like any other tower. Locking down the space and entering the tower to snatch the key.
Unfortunately, now, both you and Alidor are here. I can’t exactly play favorites. Especially since I hate you both the same. You’ll have to fight him for the right.”
‘How much time until he’s out?’
“Technically, he vastly underestimated the time needed. Or else, he would have never brought his sister here like this.
He’s lucky I left that energy out there. Or else by the time he came out, she’d have starved to death.”
‘But if that’s true then?…’
“Your True Empath trial was tailored to you specifically. The true test requires an understanding of every mindset and backstory that has or ever will exist. That’s the scope of the real test, of course yours was much shorter. I just wanted to see how you’d react to extreme and heart wrenching circumstances.
But, in terms of your challenge to Alidor, I can just end his challenge early. That being said, I doubt you want that now..”
‘You think I’ll lose to him, don’t you.’
“Need I remind you what your father said again? Be smart in your fearlessness. The only reason Alidor isn’t in the essence gathering stage is because he’s studying ways to make use of his aurora to clear to the 12th meridian formation level.”
‘That’s possible?’
“Theoretically. His aurora has a healing character like yours does. He’s just trying to see whether it can be used to cure his meridians of impurities because he isn’t as lucky as you to have learned celestial will.
Point being. His strength of wills is similar to yours. His array alchemy is similar to yours as well, despite your higher soul strength, because his fundamentals are better. His body is stronger than yours because of the Gautama family techniques and special energy. And that’s on top of the fact he has energy cultivation many times past you. You don’t stand a chance.”
‘Buuuuuuuuut?’
“Don’t try and coax me kid. I already said I’d help you IF you passed. But, you haven’t given me a satisfactory answer to my question.
If one day you find out that not everything is as it seems, will you react like the demon sage? Or will you be better than him?”
‘You’ve already made it clear that things are not what it seems. And that makes it clear that someone caused the death of my parents and forced the mortal realm into its sorry state.
So… The fact you keep asking me this question means one of two things if not both of them… It’s either means there’s something you aren’t telling me that you know fully well will send me into a fit of rage… Or it’s the fact this deeds we’re talking about was done by a person or a group of people I would never assume had done it.’
“Since you know that much, answer the question.”
Dyon sighed. It seemed this old man really wasn’t intent on telling him much of anything.
‘I will be angry. I will rage. I’ll likely lose control’
The old man remained silent, clearly waiting for Dyon to continue.
‘But, there will be a difference between the demon sage and me.
I have parents who want me to look forward into the future. I have friends who are banking on me to save them. I have a mortal realm that deserves a chance to earn their place among the universes as much as anyone else does.
I won’t be despaired. The demon sage lost everything he had. His wives, his children. His kingdoms were burned, his hard work shattered. And, it was all for a goal that ended up being nothing but a dead end.
I’m not the same. My wives are still here. My friends are still here. My goals are still here. Even when I lose my mind, I have things to bring me back.’
“Then what if you learn of these things after your wives are taken from you. After your friends are dead. After your goals are found to be hollow in the face of these things. What would you do then?”
‘You already gave me the answer to that question, grand teacher.’
“Did I?” A small smile played on the face of the old man.
‘Of course. Array Alchemy.’
“And how would that help?”
‘Array Alchemy is the answer to rewriting the universe as we see fit. I’m not saying that because I want to agree with you, I’m saying that because these are words I’ve thought myself before I even came here.
From the day I realized I could mimic wills with my arrays, to the day I created an earth constitution from thin air, to the day I saw the literal representation of death… all created by array alchemy… I realized, piece by piece, that if I become strong enough, there’s nothing I can’t do.
My wives die? I’ll pull them out of the cycle of reincarnation. That won’t work? I’ll bend space and time to my will to pull them to me. My friends die? I’ll do the same. My goals are hollow? I’ll make new ones.
I’ll be angry at first, yes. I’ll lose control, probably. But I will always be able to center to myself. And once I do, it won’t be in despair. It’ll be in unmatched determination.’
“And why are you so sure?”
Dyon shrugged. ‘Sacharro’s don’t lose.’
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