Chaos

By now, Dyon's breathing was slightly irregular. Despite his features remaining expressionless, those paying attention would know that he was nearing the end of his rope. He had no choice but to dispel his War God armor and his various techniques.

Without his black flames, he didn't have the offensive capabilities to threaten high level celestials, but with them, there was a heavy price to pay for their use. Had it not been for this absolutely selfless state, Dyon's body would have long since imploded. Yet, even with it, the damage using his flames did to his body was astronomical.

If one were to peer into Dyon's body right now, you'd only see a mess of blood and sheered meat…

Giralda treated Percival as though he was nothing more than air. To her, the only person in the world was the child in her arms. Even the question of who Dyon was meant nothing to her despite their eyes maintaining contact.