A surge of golden flames blossomed from Dyon's body. It coagulated into a torrential stream, shooting into the air like a heavenly pillar.

Golden wings bloomed from back, creating a sort of cognitive dissonance that was near impossible to resolve. How was it that he could look so imposing, so mighty… all while he wore the clothes of a beggar?

The golden pillar of flames pierced through the canopy of tree roots above before spreading outward as though to engulf the whole world.

In that instant, the roar of a dragon blasted down from above, shattering the Immortal God's imposing momentum into the whimper of a child.

The nine leaf Alchemy God frowned deeply. Despite the fact his body wasn't here, he could feel Dyon's momentum… He knew that let alone a mortal, even an Immortal God shouldn't have been able to have such imposing might…

What was that golden flame? And… was that the roar of a dragon he had just heard?

There was simply nothing he could do. If his true body was here, pushing back this might wouldn't have been a problem. Unfortunately, unlike the mortal plane, there was no single array that existed on the Immortal Plane that allowed one to travel from one place to any other place without restriction. In fact, before the mortal plane lost much of its size due to the dark phoenixes, it too didn't have such an array.

The Immortal God's steely gaze met Dyon's. If it was up to him, he would simply kill this boy where he stood now. However, he had been told that he couldn't do such a thing. Even as a mere projection, it was still well within his power to do so. But the restrictions on him were far more than just surface deep.

"… issuing an official call to action. Venerable Dyon Sacharro has been served a Tier 5 arrest warrant. Wanted alive."

Dyon all but burst into a fit of laughter. "This has to be some sort of circus act. I'll be leaving now. Good luck catching me… I wonder how many immortals I'll get to kill before they no longer dare to come?"

Dyon's laughter was carried through the wind as he rose into the air, walking upon it into the distance as though it was flat ground. The true comedy of the order became almost immediately apparent. There was not a single person in this world who could fly without the help of a treasure, yet Dyon was doing so casually without a hint of effort. And… it seemed that no one dared to charge after him.

His laughter was almost grating on the ears, one could tell just how much he was enjoying himself. Maybe his only regret was that a Tier 5 arrest warrant wasn't high enough. The thought of being chased by the whole of the immortal plane filled him with a childish joy that almost made the Immortal God regret issuing the order in the first place. He didn't even realize until Dyon had almost disappeared over the horizon that the reason no one could chase after him was because no one but Dyon could move under the imposing might of an Immortal God in this world!

'… He won't live forever… and when he does die, it'll be your turn soon after!'

In a huff, the Alchemy God disappeared, finally allowing those of the Dark Flame bubble world to breathe.

...

The brooding Immortal God opened his eyes to find himself back in a familiar place. However, his mood wasn't made any better by this reality. Dyon hadn't even done anything particularly disrespectful to him, but he still found it to be completely unacceptable.

He walked out from a cultivation room with plain grey walls and into a hallway that was equally as plain. Often times the higher you traveled in Immortal Plane society, the less material things seemed to matter. However, though this was the case, it wasn't exactly true either as odd, as that may sound.

The reason was simple. Though this place seemed minimalistic, everything in sight was worth an obscene number of energy crystals.

The grey walls were actually made of blessed void stone, a precious resource of the Void Planes that cost several million Law grade crystals per gram. To build an entire network of cultivation rooms with nothing but it was extravagant beyond compare, to say the least.

The Immortal God walked unhurriedly down the hall, his steps even and his gait almost inhumanly balanced as though he was a machine tasked with this one duty.

Despite his seemingly slow pace he made it to his destination in not even a minute, crossing hundreds of kilometers in barely a few breaths.

"You acted quite fast, Nazaire. I had actually wanted to go myself, but you took hold of the qi line before I could. Who would have guessed that the boy would deliver himself on a silver platter like this for us. Now we don't have to worry about what he will think."

Nazaire entered a small garden with nothing but a table of crystal etched with a chess board and its pieces. Aside from this there were only two old men sitting across from one another, deliberating over their next moves. It was impossible to tell whose turn it was, maybe because other than to speak the words one of them had just spoken, neither had moved an inch in years.

"You should speak the truth. In reality you just wanted an excuse to leave this game that's bound to be your loss. I knew I should have insisted on a timer before we began." The other elder snarled.

"You say this, but isn't it your turn? It's already been ten years since my last move. What's taking you so long?"

The elder in question didn't respond, likely focusing on his own thoughts once more.

"A Tier 3 General was it? That's worth a death sentence for anyone below the general rank. But you probably gave him the frontline fighter penalty, right? Definitely the smartest choice. He'd be very easy to control in this way, less of a headache…"

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