Genetic Ascension

Sylas closed his eyes as he fell this time, his visualization on full blast. He still couldn’t see clearly, still couldn’t use his telekinesis, but he could use his other senses.

The tips of his toes were angled toward the ground just the slightest bit. The instant he felt the touch of something, he bent his knees, his eyes flashing open and his telekinesis surrounding his body.

He balanced himself instantly, the echo of Jala hitting the ground at the same moment reverberating through his ears. However, instead of running in the direction of the sound, Sylas pivoted, running to the side.

Chi.

Something slammed into the ground where Sylas had just been, but he hardly flinched. Suddenly jumping up, he rammed his knee forward in a flying attack.

His kneecap and the softness of Jala’s nose met, the latter deforming and cracking in place, its bits and shards almost flying up and embedding themselves into Jala’s brain before a pulse came from his armor and he disappeared.

Sylas landed on the ground with the lightest of steps, but he almost instantly phased to the side, his lateral movement so quick that he left blurring streaks in the air as yet another attack landed where he had just been.

It wasn’t just sight that was twisted in this place, it was also sound. Sylas had noticed when he shattered the green blade earlier that it felt like the noise had almost come from over his shoulder—but not quite. He made a bet this time that the adjustments to the sound were the exact same, and he had been correct, finding Jala instantly even though neither his eyes nor his visualization could pick up on him.

However, Jala had managed to find him as well. If not for Sylas’ quick reactions, he would have been impaled by whatever that attack was just now. The question was: how had Jala managed it?

‘So I can do that…’

Sylas understood, and he struck out with a palm, a portal to his Hibernation Realm appearing to the side. In the same instant, his vision changed again. This time, he wasn’t trying to look at the world through the lens of his sight or visualization, but rather through his Progenitor Flame Ability.

If Sylas was correct, Jala was using space to find his location—the one thing that was unlikely to be twisted here. And there was simply no way that Jala would be superior to him in this respect by relying only on a treasure.

Sylas flashed forward, the Hibernation Realm portal rounding to Jala’s back and attacking from there.

Ever since Sylas formed his visualization, he had been able to summon his Contracts from anywhere within it. By the same token, now that his Hibernation Realm had evolved, it would naturally pop up from anywhere within it as well.

The difference between a human and a portal—and their interaction with space—was more than obvious enough. Jala would definitely be able to pick it out if given enough time.

But would he be given enough time?

Jala picked wrong, swinging out his staff toward the portal. Or rather, Sylas forced him to pick wrong, lagging behind the movement of his Hibernation Realm portal just enough that Jala had no choice but to prioritize it.

Sylas sent out a punch with his telekinesis, wrapping it in Aetherflow. It made it feel like the punch was coming from the portal, slamming into Jala’s face before he could react.

A series of combinations came from Sylas, each one formed in the air and keeping Jala more occupied than he could manage, all while Sylas himself closed the gap, slamming out a clawing hand toward the back of Jala’s skull.

At that moment, Jala’s armor lit up bright and looming, blooming with such light that it almost overwhelmed the darkness of the battlefield.

Sylas noted this in silence, feeling that his hand was about to be scorched through by the sudden defensive maneuver.

It didn’t stop his forward momentum, however. But the oddity was that Sylas didn’t seem to be using any Skills, let alone Gene Class Forms. He kept this so simple and bare-bones that he was moving faster than Jala could even think, one relentless strike after another falling in an avalanche.

The instant Sylas felt his claw was about to be blocked, he swept out a leg toward Jala’s ankle.

With the latter’s staff focused on fighting a fake entity in front of him, and blocking Sylas himself from the back, he couldn’t react to this sudden change at all.

He was swept off his feet, his face being graced by an elbow to the side of the temple from Sylas.

The trouble was that Sylas used Aetherflow at the same time, slowing it through Temporal Delay and having the same leg kick he sent earlier collide at the same time from the opposite side of Jala’s head.

The Progenitor Flame Ability shouldn’t have even been able to be used in this way. But the difference wasn’t something that Jala could have known while his head was being rung like a bell.

Coughing up a mouthful of blood, Jala felt the world turn white around him before it quickly began to fade to black.

Sylas retracted his Hibernation Realm, his foot raising up high as Jala slammed into the ground. His heel—almost like the flashing silver of a guillotine falling at midday—descended from above. If it connected, there was no doubt that Jala’s head would be smashed into a meaty paste, and the hope of the Hall Clan would be no more.

BANG!

Sylas’ foot slammed against solid ground, and he found himself being wrapped up in a green sphere once again.

He looked down, finding darkness all around him once again aside from the spheres around him… all four.

Including the one that housed Jala.

‘What happened? Did the Dungeon just save him?’

Jala was huffing for breath, blood oozing down his nose, eyes, and the sides of his lips.

Sylas was well and truly confused. What kind of Versus Dungeon saved people before they could be killed? How was he supposed to get the True Chosen marks like this?