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The old man's logic was simple. Dyon was a mortal. It was impossible for him to have transcended and still retain his mortal body. Even those who managed to perfect their mortal bodies on the mortal plane were simply gifted high level immortal bodies in return. They would retain their constitutions, but they would ultimately still be immortals.

Such transcendents were incredibly well respected. They didn't face the same stigma mortals and lower level transcendents did.

"… I would have sensed it already if she transcended. This means that she hasn't."

"What did you just say?!"

The old man's calm demeanor cracked. The weight of such words was far more than they seemed. They all but confirmed that Dyon was a transcendent. But how the hell could a transcendent have a mortal body?!

"… They said that the mortal plane was weakening… But it shouldn't be to the point that a mortal could cross over so easily… This boy could be what they call an Overlord…" The old man's gaze burned with passion."

"… What is that grandpa?"

"They're mortals who have the strength of immortals in certain facets… If this boy is a comprehension facet Overlord… I –"

The old man's aura became like a bloody haze. He completely forgot to restrain himself, causing his family and Amethyst to collapse around him.

He had been stuck at a step from the Immortal Law realm for too long. He could never understand how mere mortals could comprehend Laws before even many immortals did, but if Dyon was a transcendent mortal and so powerful, it was clear the legends of these Overlords were real.

"… Let him go to see the world core after the competition."

"But –" Patriarch Nightwell wanted to say more but didn't dare to continue to speak on the topic seeing his father's gaze from the ground.

"… I should go speak with a few old friends."

The old man clasped his hands behind his back, walking away.

**

"Hey! What do you think you're doing!"

Several guards rushed to blocked the entrance of a tower so tall one could only look straight up to see its peak even from a hundred meters away.

However, a moment later, a golden paperweight tore through the air, knocking them out of the way, blasting through the tower's double doors, and landing with a loud boom on the marbled floors.

Dyon strolled into the alchemy guild, his footsteps light.

"I've come to recruit this alchemy guild beneath my banner. I'll be back here in exactly one hour. I expect to find your guild head waiting for me when I get back."

Dyon directly left the paperweight on the ground as he turned to leave. It was as though he didn't know his voice had boomed across the city, covering thousands of miles in an instant. He didn't even try to hide his movements in the slightest.

Then he entered the city, selling off his Empyrean Grade herbs for an obscene price, then buying every kind of Venerable Grade Herb he could find.

Taking his time, he eventually returned to find his paperweight still on the ground and a group of old men waiting for him.

...

"Oh!" Dyon was pleasantly surprised. "I have to say, I didn't expect any one of you to show up. For that, I apologize. I wouldn't have been late if I knew."

The lips of the group of old men twitched. They couldn't tell if Dyon was being serious or not, but he seemed to be being sincere. But, that only made the situation all the more incredulous.

He had expected them not to appear? Then what would he have done had they not? What kind of havoc would he have caused?

"Young Venerable Sacharro, it is our obligation to respond to the call of the Golden Cauldrons. As long as Cauldron Two or One do not appear here, you have free reign over us. It is not a simple matter of your own prestige – though you deserve it – it is also a matter of Pill Sword Mountain's face."

There was nothing demeaning about being called young Venerable by these group of old men. Dyon could tell that they were all Empyreans. In this small world, just one of them appearing would be cause for a large procession, let alone eight of them being here like this.

The minimum realm one had to enter to become an Empyrean, by Dyon's estimations, was the Immortal Celestial Realm. So, it was suffice to say that their standings were high. The mere act of them respectfully calling Dyon 'young Venerable' instead of 'kid' or 'brat' was already a large show of respect for them.

Seeing this, Dyon's stance softened. He really had been expecting to have to run through a brick wall. But, it seemed Pill Sword Mountain's prestige was even greater than he thought.

It was as they said: ignorance was bliss. Those of the desert bubble world were too far disconnected from society to realize how dangerous it had been playing with Dyon's life like that. But, though this Dark Flame bubble world was still relatively low rung, they were ingrained enough in the secular world to know better.

Dyon obviously knew, then, that this wasn't respect for him, but rather respect for Pill Sword Mountain. But, regardless of the reason, he wasn't the kind of person to spit in the face of someone doing their best. There was no need to disrespect these old men. In fact, if they proved themselves to not be hiding their true intentions, he wouldn't mind helping them out a bit.

After a few moments of thought, Dyon nodded.

"My requirements are not large. I only need a pill room to stay in."

The Empyreans looked at each other, unable to hide their shock. They had been prepared for their resources to be gutted and to be demeaned by this young mortal, yet he had caused all of this commotion for a room to board in?

Dyon shrugged. "The Nightwell Clan annoyed me, I don't feel like staying with them anymore."