Dyon took a step forward.
It seemed that he wanted to build up momentum, but somehow, it felt as though his aura was slowly growing more reserved. Instead of building up to the heavens, it seemed to shrink. It was impossible to tell whether this was his own doing, if he was growing fatigued or if… the auras he was facing were finally strong enough to drown him out.
By the time he made it within five meters of the first line of chariots, it was difficult to even sense him without laying eyes on him. The wild fluttering of his black flames became as calm as the surface of a lake. The rattling of his bones vanished, replaced by an eerie silence. Even the flickering fires of his eye sockets seemed to have cooled, even giving off a faint blue light.
In another step, Dyon had become level with the first row of chariots. It felt like in a single blink,
he had crossed the remaining five meter distance, standing amidst them without sparing them a single glance.