Chapter 450 New One
Rebirth of the Nameless Immortal God
Dyon didnât wait, he leapt from the table and flashed toward the door. Jason had wanted to stop him and go first, but Dyon was too fast. By the time Jason got to the door, he surprisingly found Dyon walking back to him as though nothing had happened.
âDid something happen with Clara?â Jason asked worriedly.
âNothing much, she just went to the bathroom. Since I canât go in there, I had no choice but to come back. Lecture?â Dyon asked, pointing toward the room.
Hearing that Clara had gone into the bathroom, Jason knew he could only give up too. So, he hung his head, re-entering the classroom. He didnât know what was wrong or what had happened between Dyon and Clara, but he was determined to find out.
What Jason didnât know was that he had spoken to and entered into the class with Dyonâs clone. The real Dyon had long since followed Clara to the girlâs bathroom, making use of his concealment array.
**
Clara walked at a steady pace into the bathroom, quickly finding a stall and sitting on the toiletâs cap. She didnât really need to use the bathroom, but at least here, only Penelope could bother her. But, after a couple years of friendship, Penelope knew that Clara mostly just needed time alone for now..
Taking a deep breath, Clara pulled out her laptop. It was quite an old model, but she had never changed it. In fact, despite it being so old, almost ten years in fact, it still ran just as fast as modern models despite having not had its hardware upgraded in that time.
She smiled thinking back to how much of a hassle it had been for the white house to deal with.
Whenever a new family moved into the White House, they normally had to have all of their devices dealt with â meaning special protections had to be put in place. But, the laptop, despite its appearance, was so advanced that even the White House technicians had problems with it. They had pleaded for Clara to switch to another model, but she had refused, insisting on keeping it.
âYou sill have that old thing?â
Clara jumped. Startled by the clearly masculine voice before she saw Dyon leaning against the stall door in front of her.
âWhat are you doing here? This is the girlâs bathroom, what if someone sees you?â Claraâs cold eyes flashed.
âYou know, thereâs something in the martial world called array alchemy that would suit you very much. It allows me to put up barriers that block out vision and hearing.â
âHow does it work?â A curious light sparkled in Claraâs usually cold eyes.
âIf you can believe it, it uses the soul to power your ability to draw symbols. Each of these symbols shifts the law around the point you draw it on. So, I can distort reality by making it seem like no one is in this stall at all.â
É´[0)á´ á´Ê âThe soul? It exists?â Clara had seemingly forgotten that she wasnât on the best of terms with Dyon. Her curiosity was piqued.
âI think the only reason we havenât found scientific evidence of things like the soul and meridians is because theyâve been locked away from us.â
âLocked awayâ¦â Clara
âHere.â Dyon lowered his finger to tap on the edge of the laptop screen and a gold light began to flash.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om
âNo wait!â
Dyon froze, tilting his head in confusion.
âLeave it as is. I donât want to change it.â Then, in a voice Dyon would have definitely never heard had it not been for his cultivation, she continued. âNewer is not always betterâ¦â
âThis is my fault.â Dyon said, tapping on the cracked bezels of laptop. He remembered back to the day he had dropped Claraâs laptop, trying to show off. He had wanted to prove that he could create a better laptop than any in current existence, but Clara had wrestled with him until they dropped it.
Clara had cried because that was the last gift her mother had ever given her before she died, so it was suffice to say that Dyon felt horrible.
He insisted on fixing it, but Clara had said then that she didnât want him to fix the crack.
âOnly the insides.â She had said.
âIt was a long time ago,â Clara whispered, looking down at the dull light of her laptop screen. âDo you think the martial world could do it?â¦â
âSave your mother, you mean?â Dyon took a deep breath.
âYou know why I showed up to that trial, right?â Clara laughed bitterly, âThere was such a stigma around going to those trials. People are still saying that only crazy dreamers hope to leave to go to the martial world.â
Dyon silently listened. Clara was right. After hundreds to probably even thousands of years of not a single human being chosen, many had given up on even attending. There were of course still a few hundred who insisted on trying every year, but a few hundred in the population of billions was a drop in the bucket.
So, the year Clara had gone, President Gallagher had taken a huge hit on his presidential campaign. The news outlets berated him for instilling improper values in his daughter and that he somehow made her lose faith in their system, so she wanted to run off to a whole new world.
âIn a way, the media was right though.â Clara continued. âThis world is sick and I have lost faith in it⦠Something like cancer took my motherâs life away, and yet we can build buildings that reach kilometers into the sky, and send man to space, and even have little tiny devices that help us talk to people across the world. And yet, what use is any of those things when we canât even live past 80 years old? What use is those things when even with that short amount of time, your life can be taken away even before then? What use is it all?â¦â
Clara sighed, âso, I showed up. Hoping against hope that maybe, just maybe, Iâd be chosen. Then I could go off to a new world and find a way to bring back cures we just donât have⦠Iâve worked so hard⦠Studied so hard to become a doctor⦠But what use is any of it when Iâm just learning the same things the people who couldnât save my mother knew?â¦â
Claraâs voice grew more hoarse as she continued, it was clear that her cold demeanor was slowly shattering. She had never said these things aloud⦠At least not when she was old enough to put real thought into them. When she was young, all she had done was fight and wrestle with Dyon. That was how she vented.
But now? Coldness was her shield.
âYou know, I have a meeting with my dad everyday.â Clara looked up at Dyon. âI would call it a father-daughter date, but it really doesnât feel like a date. And, without fail, it gets cut short everyday⦠He doesnât think I know, but I know itâs because he calls for his secretary to come in early.â Clara chuckled bitterly. âI canât blame him. His daughter is practically a mannequin. Or, at least thatâs what I thought until I found out one day that itâs because he canât fake being healthy for too long.â Clara looked down, gritting her teeth.
âClara? What do you mean fake being healthy?â Dyonâs brows furrowed, a serious expression flashing.
âMy dad has lung cancer. He canât sit for more than ten minutes without going into a fit of coughs. I wouldnât have even known had I not forgotten my phone in his office one day⦠But then I pretended not to know⦠I pretended not to know Dyon. I wanted to do everything I could to ignore it.â Claraâs shoulders trembled, but her eyes remained cold, her teeth clenching tightly against each other.
âAnd he wonât go through chemotherapy. I know he wonât. If he does, he wouldnât be able to finish his term and the country would be in chaos. Heâs literally sacrificing himself for this shit world, fighting for the same garbage status quo as everyone else and trying to swim against a tide no one can fight.â Clara looked up, her cold eyes glistening. âSo tell me, why shouldnât I give up on this world and look for a new one?â