O’Brien didn’t need to look over to understand that the dense killing intent permeating the air was originating from his estranged biological son. Still, as soon as he looked over, a killing intent not one whit inferior erupted from him.
He may have originally wanted to bring Ace to his side and even benefit from his connection to Arianna to get his hands on her family’s treasures, but over the last few years, he had understood that neither was possible.
Ace’s negative feelings towards him were truly unresolvable. And after hearing about a woman he considered to be his plaything marrying another man – a man who, forget being a deity, wasn’t even a saint – he no longer wanted to resolve things.
If he had his way, he would slaughter every single member of the Gol Kingdom, only leaving Ace, Milianna, and Lance alive so he could spend the rest of their mortal lives torturing them.
Unfortunately, as things stood, that was simply impossible. For the first time in god knows how long, O’Brien, a Demi-God who originally stood at the very peak of the continent, a man who was able to have almost anything he wanted with a mere snap of his fingers, found himself unable to get what he wanted.
The worst part was that, because of the talent of this unruly son of his, he’d be lucky to survive the next 100 years.
These last six months had been some of the worst of his entire life. He had the power to destroy his enemies, but he was forbidden from acting. He was forced to essentially disband his empire and subordinate not only himself but also his subordinates to a woman whom he had once considered his lifetime rival and enemy. Then, to top it off, he had to sit back and do nothing whilst the only woman to escape his grasp married another man in the most public of settings.
O’Brien had never been known for having the best of tempers, but over the last few months, his temper had only gotten worse. He was now but a deranged shell of his former self.
Aside from the High Priest, there was no one who dared say a word in his overbearing presence.
With all that being said, one could imagine his reaction to laying eyes on one of the individuals he held responsible for his current state of affairs.
Sparks flew as both father and son’s eyes met for the first time in over two years. The tension in the air was palpable, and the heat in the surrounding area became almost unbearable for even those at the early stages of the saint realm.
Still, Ace’s body remained ramrod, like an unyielding spear. His eyes were frigid and unmoving as he glared at O’Brien, entirely unwilling to back down.
He didn’t care that this was a man who was capable of killing him with a mere wave of a hand; all he wanted was to reap the life of the man who dared force himself onto his mother.
Ace wasn’t the only one who dared to glare fearlessly at the crimson-haired War God. Whether it was Amira, Leona, Wukong, Lazerim, or Kimika, each of them radiated a thick bloodlust as they glared at O’Brien.
Milianna may have been Ace’s mother, but she was still beloved by each of them.
Even Linley looked up coldly, though his frigid killing intent was focused on those from the former Radiant Church. Though his mother didn’t die in the end, he would never forgive them.
Especially after learning that because of their actions, his mother – whose talent as a mage with a pure soul didn’t lose out to Wharton’s talent as a warrior – would find it almost impossible to become a saint through natural means.
Those watching in the surrounding area all flew back, giving the two groups space. Most knew that the chances of a fight truly breaking out in front of the home of their Yulan Plane’s reigning overlord were virtually non-existent. Still, the tension in the air made most forget that fact.
With tensions running that high, all it would take was the smallest of fuses, and none of the experts not involved wanted any part of it.
Fortunately, before things could escalate any further, a figure emerged from the depths of the metallic lifeform.
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Amidst the oppressive shadows, he stood tall, his dark skin a stark contrast to the glistening white robe he donned, which billowed and whispered with the wind as if the latter acknowledged and rejoiced in his presence.
His light brown eyes, almost golden under the scarce rays of light that filtered through the twisted branches, held an enigmatic gleam as he calmly scanned the experts in the surroundings.
His long dreadlocks, as black as the abyss from which he emerged, were tied back into a ponytail, each lock seemingly able to absorb what little light there was and reflecting it in a subdued shimmer. They swayed as he moved, much like dark serpents winding through the air.
What was truly odd, though, was the weapon to his back. A two-meter-long glaive with its crystal-white shaft and silver hilt out of place in this foreboding forest. Its blade, a mesmerizing fusion of silver and gold, appeared sharper than any weapon should rightfully be, as though it was capable of tearing through the very fabrics of reality that bound their world.
Still, what was strange was the way in which it clung to his back. It wasn’t tied using any materials, nor was it held in place using his aura. It was almost as if it was choosing to be there of its own free will.
An aura, mysterious and profound, clung to him like a second layer of skin. It easily sliced through the palpable tension caused by the two opposing groups, its sharpness almost tangible, yet its touch strangely light and gentle.
His steps were casual, lazy even, and yet they still carried a measured precision that prevented others from ignoring them.
This man was the Yulan Continent’s invincible mortal – Aiden Rohault. And despite the suffocating atmosphere, he wore a serene smile, a beacon of calm in the midst of the sinister shadows. A smile that seemed intent on defying the imposing malevolence that pervaded the already eerie air of the Forest of Darkness.
Even Ace and O’Brien, the two closest to boiling point, instantly felt their tempers all but doused, unable to focus on anything but Aiden.
It had been a few months since Ace had last seen his master. Before leaving last time, Aiden had already told his only disciple that he wouldn’t see him again until he entered the ruins, as he planned on staying by Beirut’s side so that he could finally have all the injuries his soul had sustained from his repeated use of [Imposing Devourment] healed.
The only reason Aiden began drinking in the first place was to dull the never-ending pain he was forced to suffer. As such, Ace expected his master to experience significant changes. Still, not even he was expecting the changes to be this drastic. It was like he was looking at a completely different person. ‘So this is the real Aiden Rohault; this is my master.’
O’Brien and Catherine were no less shocked by Aiden’s changes. Still, although they were surprised by the difference in his aura, what really shocked them was the faint but all too real threatening feeling they could sense subtly lock onto them as if to warn them not to overstep.
It was the sort of feeling they would expect to feel from someone of their level. Had it been Cesar, they wouldn’t have been so surprised, but for it to come from Aiden…
“Lord Beirut has tasked me with the opening of the Necropolis of the Gods this time,” Aiden smiled calmly as though he hadn’t sensed the previous air of tension. “Those of you who intend on entering and are already at the saint realm are to move to my right. All mortals who intend to enter should move to my left.
As for those who don’t intend to enter, please stand back.”
Aiden’s tone was polite and could even be described as gentle. Still, hidden within was a commanding aura that left no room for discussion.
Unsurprisingly, the overwhelming majority of those entering were saint-level experts. What was surprising, though, was that aside from those from Ace’s group, there was another mortal who intended to enter.
A dark-haired woman with enchanting navy-blue eyes calmly stood at the front of the group of mortals; her brown and navy leathered attire glistened faintly in the dim light that filtered through the canopy of ancient trees.
She held the obsidian body of her sheathed, flexible, long sword in her milky white, dainty hands. Despite remaining covered in its sheath, all those present could feel from the aura it radiated, that it was definitely a Divine Artifact.
She appeared no older than 20, yet she remained unmoved by the questioning and curious stares she was receiving from all those experts present. Instead, she simply stared at Aiden as though she were sizing him up whilst waiting for him to declare what would happen next.
Despite being so young, it was clear from her aura that she, like Wukong, had reached the middle stages of the ninth rank as both a warrior and mage. Still, as surprising as it was for there to be another mortal who was of no relation to the Yin-Yang Pavilion to even attempt to enter, the thing that caught the attention of Aiden was the bird perched on her shoulder.
Its feathers were a glistening white and shone with a radiance that not even the darkness of the forest could affect. Its frigid but sparkling violet eyes scanned the surroundings, not bothering to hide its disdain as it looked at those around.
Ace had already noticed them when he arrived. Still, he couldn’t help but sigh as he looked at the bird on her shoulder.
Divine Beasts were supposed to be rare among magical beasts, with only one being born every thousand years, yet everyone could only sigh in amazement as this new generation had already given birth to 3 Apex Divine Beasts, but from the power hidden within the early saint-level aura this bird was emitting, it looked like there would have to be another addition to that list.
Both Ace and Aiden could sense that this proud white-feathered crow was also an Apex Divine Beast.