Rebirth of the Nameless Immortal God Chapter 2327 Returned

Though Dyon's power had sparked desperate hope in their hearts, they were ultimately compelled to confront the bitter truth.

It made no difference now. Having chosen to stand firm on this side, they would hold their ground until their final breaths. At the least, those who stayed possessed this unbreakable resolve.

Dyon's wives clasped each other's hands gently. They didn't grip with desperation and even wore faint smiles. Without the tears they'd wept for Madeleine, it might have appeared as just another ordinary day.

They were the spouses of the Nameless Immortal God. Every one was a prodigy who dominated the Immortal Plane. Though they lacked their former might, their regal presence and divine grace remained eternal.

Alauna's tears alone refused to cease. Death held no fear for her, yet witnessing her father endure such torment shattered her heart.

For countless years, she had yearned for her father's return, never imagining that just as she believed him back, such a tragedy could unfold.

She longed to pound her chest and proclaim her father's invincibility, that no peak stood too high or trial too daunting for him. She yearned to emulate her elder brothers, suppressing her agony and displaying fearless courage.

Yet, each glimpse of her father in that condition felt like her entire world collapsing… as if the father she cherished was fading from her grasp fragment by fragment.

"DAD!"

Her desperate cry echoed across the battlefield.

This wasn't her first shout, nor did she wish it to be her last. Even facing death, she craved one final glimpse of her father's tender love—the gaze he gave when she begged for cherry ice cream… the gaze during her alchemy lessons… the gaze amid grueling training meant to forge her strength…

She rejected this skeletal impostor, this fiend posing as her father. She yearned for the real Dyon, if only once more at the end.

In that instant, a profound sigh reverberated over the battlefield.

Its origin was impossible to pinpoint. It seemed to emanate from directly before them, while simultaneously encircling them entirely. It

resembled the grasp of a deity cradling the world within its mighty palms.

The dim flames in Dyon's hollow eye sockets finally extinguished. He remained upright, head thrown back toward the heavens. To onlookers, it appeared he had perished on his feet.

No one could fathom the ordeals he'd endured in this clash. He had poured all his strength into vanquishing Aritzia, unaware a fiercer confrontation awaited here.

His form had long surpassed its endurance. Many believed this skeletal state stemmed from madness… and perhaps partly so. Rage consumed him utterly, urging him to inflict his torment—the same suffering, anguish, and despair—upon the world.

Yet a deeper cause existed. He lacked the vitality to sustain his full body. Manipulating this skeleton via his soul was his sole means to persist, avenging his wife.

Ultimately, his weakness prevailed. No energy remained.

"… I …"

Dyon's voice boomed through the heavens, laced with such profound sorrow that even foes shed tears.

Empress Elise's brow furrowed. Flames danced on her lashes, incinerating the tears welling there. He stirred her feelings too? What manner of power was this?

A fleeting yearning flashed in Abraxus' eyes. There it was—the pursuit of ages… Soul Quintessence.

No, it transcended mere Soul Quintessence. His disciple had grasped it eons ago. This represented… the ultimate pinnacle of Soul Quintessence.

'Pity you attained this only at life's close.'

Abraxus' vision pierced true. He saw Dyon utterly depleted. A blazing spirit could only carry one so far.

Ironically, the icy serenity of Dyon's heart had elevated him here, yet that very serenity doomed him.

"… Really wanted to kill you both with my own hands…"

Dyon's declaration echoed like a parting vow. Like a warrior who gave his all, he etched his final mark upon existence.

Even as Sapientia surged toward his kin, even with his father-figure poised for the killing strike, he asserted his identity: the Nameless Immortal God, Dyon Sacharro, sovereign over epochs.

"… But it seems I'll still have to rely on my mind…"

Abraxus had readied his farewell to his pupil. Dyon's wives had steeled for their end. Yet his words stunned allies and adversaries alike.

What did he mean?

Abraxus scowled.

"… Consider yourselves lucky."

BANG!

"ROOOOOOOAAAAARRRRRRR!!"

The First White Mother's face paled. An aura from her prior existence resurfaced—no, even then, it felt primordial.

'Impossible…'

Suddenly, colossal serpent shadows ascended skyward. Their immense scale overshadowed even the Immortal Plane's star segments.

Crowning their heads, bony spires formed regal diadems, twisting skyward with innate arrogance etched into their essence.

"World Serpents!?" Abraxus' features twisted in shock.

A ferocious seal then clamped the battlefield.

Four World Serpents dominated the four cardinal points, barricading all with supreme disdain in their gazes. It was as though they

alone ruled winds, oceans, and firmament. They reigned supreme, pristine and unrivaled.

"That's not possible…" The First White Mother quivered.

The mortal plane now teetered on oblivion's edge. Its heavenly links severed, borders ruptured, adrift in the void. Unchecked, consumption loomed inevitable.

Per the First White Mother and Sapientia's reckoning, Chaos's embrace would ignite cosmic upheaval across reality. Thus held the origin's pivotal role.

Yet World Serpents altered everything. Their vigil ensured endurance through endless eons. If felling mature ones proved easy… would legends persist?

"… Things have already begun but you're already reacting like this… These were just a few beasts I casually helped evolve… Hm, maybe I was wrong. This might turn out to be as satisfying as beating you down with my fists…"

Another shift erupted as Dyon spoke.

The Ancient Battlefield quaked. Initially subtle, tremors intensified wildly. Luna's pathway expanded rapidly.

BANG!

The interworld barrier shattered. Collision seemed imminent; many tensed for catastrophe.

But the unforeseen followed.

No crash, no cataclysmic blast, not even a fierce gale. As if destined, the Mortal Plane and Ancient Battlefield merged seamlessly.

Yet that wasn't all. A black-armored legion, rivaling Sapientia in vast numbers, materialized overhead.

On the Ancient Battlefield stood twelve clans… Orcs, Medusa Clan, Cyclopes, Torus Clan, Undead Clan, Unicorn Clan, Griffons, Cerberus Clan, Ant Clan, Golden Crow Clan, Phoenix Clan…

They had all rallied that day to claim Dyon's life… But that tallied eleven…

A twelfth lingered, headed by an unremarkable human male devoid of standout traits. He attended gatherings nonchalantly and departed in silence…

After endless years, the Titans had returned.