"My name is Trot Vinum. This is the third time you've disrespected my master today, as his most senior disciple, it is my duty to clear his name. Please step forward."

It seemed Amell gave all of his disciples the very same last name. Either that, or Iaachus and Trot were related. That said, the former was the more likely of the two options from Dyon's observation.

Dyon didn't seem like he was going to move though, after all, he felt so comfortable. Plus, he didn't want to lose the feeling of Madeleine on his lap. "Three times? Please enlighten me."

"First with how you addressed him. 'Do I know you?' is not a proper way to greet an elder. Second with your laughter. It is a fact that you owe what you owe. My master has worked very hard to establish his franchise throughout many universes, you happened to take advantage of the more lax security in this universe to steal. While slightly impressive, it is still wrong.

"Thirdly, you've dared to disrespect our junior sister by having her sit on your lap. This is the ultimate disrespect to my master.

"Step out if you have any face."

Dyon blinked, looking at Madeleine with a raised eyebrow. But, when he saw her shrug, he understood that she had no idea what this person was talking about either.

"So, I've disrespected your master by spending time with my wife? When next I wipe my ass, should I ask for his permission first too?" Dyon turned back to Trot.

Trot's calm demeanor finally seemed to crack. He wasn't expecting such a vulgar response and the laughter at Dyon's words only made it worse.

Martial artists of their stages didn't even need to do such a thing, so why would he say this?

Trot's frown deepened. "How could you be worthy of our junior sister? And what kind of marriage could be finalized without the consent of her master?"

Dyon shrugged, "This kind. I didn't even need permission from her father to marry my Madeleine, why would I need that of her master?" Dyon emphasized the word father, not bothering to look at Amell, but his meaning was clear.

Amell's eyes narrowed. But said nothing.

"I've had enough of your talk. Either pay my master or step out here coward."

Dyon ignored Trot and looked at Ri, "Did any of them participate in the campaigns?"

Ri shook her head. "No, I assume they stood guard on Planet Naiad and Deimos with their master and his wife."

"Oh, and why's that? It doesn't seem like they're saints yet."

Ri shrugged, "I guess they believe they're above it."

Dyon laughed. "I see."

Madeleine raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"I dunno. They just seemed really weak, but also big headed. I just wanted to make sure my assumption was right."

"Weak?" Trot grit his teeth. "We don't participate in your wars because our master told us not to. We're not meant to influence this universe. We've been trained our entire lives to do just one thing: Conquer the Epistemic Tower. Now is just not the right time. We have to hide our strength and catch the opposition unawares. You would understand nothing of that. You are nothing compared to us."

Dyon gently lifted Madeleine up before standing and setting her down on their seat.

But, just as he was walking forward, Ri grabbed his wrist. "Are you sure your body is okay?" Both her an Madeleine had worried expressions on their faces. Dyon had literally just recovered, they weren't even sure if it was permanent just yet,

Dyon smiled, "I'm feeling great."

In the end, Ri could only let go, sighing as she watched him walk to the center of the room.

Trot smirked on the inside, happy that he had provoked Dyon to come out. This way, he could expose him for the fraud he was.

Dyon's hand flashed with a light before too long shards of energy stones came out, balancing on the tips of two of his fingers.

The entire room seemed to freeze, staring at Dyon's hand. Even Amell's eyes widened, unable to comprehend what he was seeing.

Dyon stopped ten meters from Trot, spinning the energy stones. "I guess these are the two transcendent stones I supposedly owe your master, right?

"Well, I quite frankly don't feel like giving them, so how about this. You beat me, and you get the glory and the stones. In fact." Dyon tossed the stones behind him as pile after pile of transcendent stones filled the room.

Amell's heart seized. Even Nora, who hadn't expected this, could only shake her head.

The message was clear. Why would I have to steal when I have this much money?

Trot immediately understood this as well. This was nothing less than yet another slap to the face of his master. How could he tolerate such a thing?

"Since you don't understand your limits, I'll cripple you for good!" Trot growled.

Trot's foot slammed downward, his book disappearing in a flash of light as sped forward with blinding speed.

His body seemed to disappear into a mirage, shifting oddly under the light of the room.

This was clearly a high level movement technique. It seemed Amell treated his disciple well.

Without his 6th sense, Dyon had to admit it was a bit difficult to see just what was happening. He dearly missed his soul. Such a thing couldn't even be called child's play if he had it.

It was clear that Trot still marginally respected Dyon, willing to go all out. However, Dyon could hardly care.

Without moving even an inch, the tattoos on Dyon's back bloomed magnificently, causing two pairs of white and black wings coated in glistening feathers to appear, spreading out three and half meters to each side.

The room was immediately filled with a majestic and stifling arrogant aura. Dyon's wings seemed to sing with excitement after being held in captivity for such a long time.

They flexed in unison as Dyon calmly watched Trot approach. And then. They flapped.

From beginning to end, Dyon didn't take either a step forward or back.

Trot hardly registered what happened as a gust of wind as violent as a category 5 hurricane careened toward him, blasting him away and nearly caving his rib cage inward.

Amell had no choice but to open up a barrier, protecting his disciples from the unforgiving wind even as his most senior disciple slammed against the walls, coughing up blood. Even his reinforced glasses that were actually a vision treasure shattered underneath the impact, sending shard of glass around his eye. But, it seemed Dyon had somehow managed to not blind him.

Dyon took a look at Amell's bitter expression. "This is what you left this universe for 20 years for? This is the group of supposed geniuses you put together to conquer the tower?"

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