His body grew toward an ever-worsening state while Emytheus seemed to be replenished to his perfect self every passing moment. But Dyon hardly batted an eye.
He knew Emytheus had limits. If he didn't, how would he had died in the previous timeline?
But there would be a difference this time around. He would slaughter Emytheus at his very best. He would topple this God who tried to look down from him on high with nothing but his own strength.
He would show Emytheus the true difference between them!
Dyon's scythe swept forward. Even as his shoulders were torn apart by the weapons flying through the air, he met Emytheus' palm strike head on. Such a small thing could never shake his resolve.
A deep reflective impact surged as Dyon was almost thrown away by Hera's ability. But he had been fighting Emytheus for too long to fall for such a thing again.
His golden wings flapped mightily, sending a torrent of winds forward that supported him. His intent blazed, pushing onward to force Emytheus back.
Dyon's assault was relentless. The moment he gained even the slightest advantage, he pressed forward.
His kick followed the swing of his scythe, a slew of [Judgement] arrays manifesting to his back.
Even though he was well aware that even his strongest [Judgement], [Asura], wasn't able to match up against even a single one of Emytheus' weapons, so what? If one wasn't enough, he would send ten. If ten wasn't enough, he would send a hundred. Dyon didn't believe for a moment that Emytheus had an endless supply of immortal grade weapons.
However, when it came to his soul, the things he could create would keep coming for as long as he continued to manifest them. As long as his will held on, he would be the undeniable victor.
Emytheus met Dyon's kick with a knee of his own, a savage glow lighting his eyes as a streak of lighting following his counter punch.
Dyon's reaction was quick. The butt of his scythe swinging forward to deflect it.
Space shattered and crumbled under their might. Each of them had already surpassed the normal boundaries of the mortal plane, each of them was a God in their own right.
Reality was formed by their wills, the illusory was manifested under their thoughts, even the Heavens could only bear witness to their clash.
Their battle was a sight that captured the hearts of all. Even those observing had a difficult time forming thoughts of their own. Their minds were enraptured by the moment of history before them.
Dyon's strikes, Emytheus' counters, Dyon's arrays, Emytheus' vault of treasures.
They clashed in the skies, golden wings to one side, platinum wings to the other.
"Land of the Undead, heed my call!"
Emytheus' cry shook the earth below. A splintering valley that ran for thousands of miles opened up, running horizontally between Dyon and Emytheus' clashing figures.
Thousands of skeletal hands the size of cities creeped upward, grasping the sides of this fissure. They slowly pulled themselves upward, rising from hell's abyss.
Dyon sneered. He flashed backward, allowing Reaper to float before his as he clapped his hands together. The impact of his palms meeting shook the Ancient Battlefield, causing no less of a cataclysm than Emytheus' underworld fissure.
Illusory flames billowed around him, a roar escaping his lips that overshadowed the creaking bones below.
Thousands of blooming flowers appeared in the skies, each as large as a person and overflowing with a bloody aura.
Dyon's clones rushed outward, each of them pressing their hands together and roaring in unison.
"[Sage's Degree]. [First arm: Patience]."
Thousands of golden palms rose into the air, the skies quaking beneath their might.
The rising corpse puppets were struck simultaneously, a singular palm stay behind to keep Emytheus at bay.
"[Second Arm: Modesty]."
Another golden palm appeared to Dyon's opposite side, his fighting intent blooming. The more he fought, the quicker his heart pounded. To go all out, to crush his enemies no matter how high above him they stood. This was what he lived for.
"[Third Arm: Brotherhood]. [Fourth Arm: Calm]. [Fifth Arm: Charisma]. [Sixth Arm: Magnanimity]. [Seventh Arm: Courage]. [Eighth Arm: Justice]. [Nine Arm: Truth]!"
Dyon's palms slapped together once more, nine arms of a prayer buddha stretching out for hundreds of miles to his back. He tapped into the magic of blessings within his golden wings, slowly coming to understand the fundamental runes that powered its holy aura.
"[Change]!"
He tapped into the fifth degree of freedom. To change the fundamental element of one's technique, this was the true power of [Change]. And Dyon chose to empower himself with the strength of blessings, creating a tenth arm that had never existed before.
"[Tenth Arm]…. [Cleanse]!"
Ten palms struck outward at once. No, it was more accurate to say that it was tens of thousands.
Each as large as tens of miles across, they blanketed out the skies, shattering the earth below under their pressure before they even landed.
The undead creatures of Emytheus' Hades ability were eradicated one after another even as Emytheus himself was forced back several steps.
Dyon's golden arms grabbed the qi in the skies, taking control of them and bombarding Emytheus from all sides.
His scythe expanded in size, entering the hand of the tenth arm with embodied the first blessing Dyon had ever learned: [Cleanse].
It swept through the skies, clashing with Emytheus' massive platinum wings and forcing him to retreat again and again.
Dyon's attacks grew more furious, more vigorous. His relentless pursuit toward victory caused the skies to boom with endless rains of thunder as though expressing the rage of the Heavens above.
However, Dyon himself only laughed uproariously, his strength blooming to new and greater heights.
"Come! Emytheus! Give me everything you have!"
"…"
Emytheus countered Dyon's undying pursuit again and again. His gaze continuously blazed as though searching for Dyon's limits.
"… Then I'll show you my true strength… That of the Creation God. Emytheus!"
