Patriarch Nightwell was a temperamental man to begin with. The only reason he hadn't spoken to this point wasn't out of respect for Dyon, but out of respect for his own father. Even though the old man had stepped down, Crystella's father still took him for the de facto leader of their Clan. As such, if the old man was speaking, it wasn't his place to interfere.
But, there was only so much he could take. Let alone a mortal, even if an Immortal Celestial born genius descended to this place he wouldn't accept such disrespect.
Of course, this was the difference between he and Dyon. For Dyon, he didn't care even if it was an Immortal God.
"How tiresome." Dyon shook his head. "If there's nothing you wanted, then I'll be leaving."
"Dyon, wait!" Crystella's voice was almost frantic. It wasn't quite there yet, but the change was completely unexpected for the maidservants and guards who had never seen their young mistress act in such a way.
