Dyon snapped himself out of his thought, looking straight into the eyes of what looked like a reflection of himself, before he spoke the first words he had in years, "I don't believe for an instance someone carrying a visage so close to mine could say something so stupid. I am quite an arrogant person, and as such, I can say with certainty that your IQ is several dozen points too low to impersonate me.
"If you want to attack my dao heart, and make me question my own decisions, you should have picked a difference face."
Dyon's form of speech was quite funny, even to himself. After so many years of silence, even he felt that his words were too rigid and formal. Was he speaking casually? Or was he giving an important address?
Despite Dyon's words though, his clone responded to his insults exactly how he would have.
Laughing lightly, the clone shook his head, "I don't need clever tricks or manipulations to relay the truth.
"What kind of man spends ten years lamenting over the death of two imaginary women? Are you certain you have two balls between your legs?
"You claim to be intelligent, yet you pretend not to have realized that if you wanted to achieve your goal, one way or another, the silver-haired bitch would have had to die."
The clone had yet to speak a single lie. The second trial would not have ended until all notable enemies had died. Although it was disguised as a survival trial, the true face of the second trial was to test one's ability to lead, thus allowing you to form a Presence seed. Part of being a ruler, a king, an emperor, is to make difficult decisions.
For the second trial, the form this difficult decision took was in the appearance of Luna. The trial forced you to be madly in love with her, while also forcing her death to be the only method of passing. It was truly cruel beyond belief, and it wasn't until Luna died that Dyon realized this, but his feelings wouldn't have changed anything.
There was only one truth in the end: even if Dyon had known this from the very beginning, he would have never been able to kill Luna with his own hands, nor would he have been able to scheme her into her own death.
So, the question remained… Since he knew he couldn't do this, was he even worthy of being a leader? Because of his own heart, his own selfish feelings, he couldn't sever ties with a clear traitor even with the lives of his clansmen on the line? And he wanted to be a King? How laughable…
By now, Dyon was absolutely certain of the goal of this trial. He without a doubt had to surpass himself in combat prowess, but it seemed to come with an added attack on his dao heart at the same time. The two-pronged assault was definitely not something many young geniuses could handle.
Even worse, the clone seemed to copy your personality. With Dyon's own wittiness and intelligence being pitted against himself, the comments were particularly biting and on the nose.
However, this trial underestimated Dyon's arrogance. No matter how this imitation was, he was far too arrogant to ever believe any mere system could perfectly replicate him.
Seeing Dyon's lack of a response, the clone only smiled, seemingly understanding what he was thinking.
A dense and eerie power erupted from the clone's hand. Dyon's eyes narrowed as a black band on his clone's wrist morphed into a magnificent scythe.
His countenance began to change, paling from its original golden caramel color, to a pale sheet of white. His eyes lost their warmth, filling with a grey fog pulsing with red veins. Even his hair changed, no longer remaining its brownish red-gold, and instead changing to a jet and sleek black before rushing its growth tremendously. In an instantly, hair that grew to the black of his knees appeared, wafting and waving around in a black and dense fog.
In the end, his body lost much of its muscle mass, leaning out and growing taller. He almost became a skeleton, yet his handsome features became even more pronounced, filled with an eerie dark and dangerous air that would make the hearts of innocent maidens beat wildly.
Even if Dyon saw this transformation from miles away, even if he lost half his intelligence and became to think with his feet instead of his head, in fact, even if he was blind and could only feel it out with his soul, he would never need more than a moment to recognize what was happening…
This was none other than his death intent form. Yet, it seemed so much more refined and powerful. He knew well that he had never entered this state with such perfection before.
"Oh right!" The clone slapped his forehead in mock pity, "Your wills are sealed, aren't they? I almost feel bad taking advantage of you like this, but it's my job. You wouldn't like it if someone stealing your visage didn't do a good job, would you?"
The clone could clearly tell that Dyon was too arrogant for his own good, so instead of continuing, he simply stopped, instead using Dyon's own mentality against him. It could be said that the way the clone adapted to Dyon was perfect and quite unnerving.
But, what was even worse was this clone's power. The fourth trial was supposed to pit you against yourself, and theoretically, it was supposed to be an even match-up that neither of you could win for a long time… Yet… This clone completely ignored Dyon's restrictions, jumping to what would be his peak power if his wills, soul and energy cultivation were unlocked right now.
Even a fool could see that the situation wasn't favourable.
Despite all of this, Dyon still remained calm. There were a few reasons for this.
For one, without a calm mind, all chances of victory would be thrown out. Secondly, he didn't believe that there would be a trial that was impossible to pass, or else this Tower would be completely useless. The last point was the most poignant to him: He didn't believe that this Tower could perfectly replicate the prowess of the Dragon King, at most, it could be imitated.
Although Dyon's body had the Dragon King on it, it was currently not on his wrist. This meant that the trials purposefully did not want him to use it. At this point, one might think that the trials might have directly given the Dragon King to this clone of his for the sake of the trial, after all, if the Dragon King wasn't with Dyon, then where could it be?
However, Dyon knew better than to worry about this. In the history of the Dragon King, there had only been one person to subdue him: and that was himself.
The reason Dyon was so arrogant so as to believe that this clone could never fully replicate him was namely because of the Dragon King. Although the replica the clone was using was eerily close to the original, because of Dyon's soul connection with the Dragon King, he could tell that this wasn't really him. That meant that the clone wasn't able to replicate Dyon's ability to make weapons submit to him, which also meant this clone wasn't perfect.
All of this instilled confidence within Dyon. He wasn't the type of person to be blindly arrogant. Rather, he was just a person who had the utmost confidence in himself and his own analysis of things. No matter how many millions of years this Tower had been created for, it was still too green to affect his psyche.
Brandishing broad sword, Dyon surprised the clone by making the first move.
His first step was quick and decisive, leaving a vortex of wind where his feet once lay. His sword trailed behind him, picking up momentum and strength as his torso flexed with unbridled power.
Dyon's arms swung forward, his skin reddening. With every flash step, another level of Demon Emperor's Will was crossed. By the time Dyon broad sword was only an inch from smashing into the clone, even Dyon's six golden wings had erupted from his back, causing the lingering energy Dyon had yet to be absorbed in an instant, re-establishing his cultivation at the lower celestial level.
This all occurred in the blink of an eye, and before the clone could even react, Dyon's sword had reached him.
BOOM!
