Genetic Ascension

Sylas followed after Gralith. This time, he was moving under his own power, almost as though Gralith had decided that the pace should be set by him.

Neither master nor disciple seemed to be in much of a hurry to reach the location of this meeting, but their momentum was quite steady, and there was no hesitation in their steps.

Calm, collected. Confident and unmoved. They embodied these sorts of emotions quite clearly.

Gwenu and Khan weren’t too far behind them, following as well. But from time to time, their gazes would flicker toward Sylas’ back as though trying to see through him, and yet being unable to.

These past months had been quite a blur for Gwenu. She still didn’t know what Sylas had done to her, but it felt like her Rune Mastery was improving by leaps and bounds every day.

Of course, leaps and bounds to her and leaps and bounds to Sylas were two completely different things. But the fact she felt any progress at all after she had long thought herself to have reached the extremities of what was possible for her… Well, she didn’t really understand how to even begin to put something like that into words.

Was this the power of a Spark Master? How could someone be so potently powerful?

Khan felt a little bit out of place by comparison. Sylas hadn’t been able to help him like he had helped Gwenu. The D-tier was too far away even for him, so Khan could only, embarrassingly, take the loss.

The fact his juniors had won when he couldn’t grated on him, but there was little he could do about it.

Unlike Gwenu, despite his personality, he couldn’t be said to be lazy. But he was more of a Poison Master than he was a Rune Master. His talent in the first far surpassed the latter, which was why he had always ranked higher on the Combat Matrix Leaderboards than on the Rune Mastery Leaderboards.

He had only been an Essence Master when he left the F-tier, a level beneath Gwenu. The odds that he would have performed well in a competition like that one were next to zero.

But that didn’t stop him from being dissatisfied with his own performance. He wanted to be better, and he somewhat felt that he could learn from Sylas’ poison.

His intuition was telling him that Sylas was carrying around something quite powerful… a poison that he had never sensed the likes of before… …

The clicking of their heels in the hall reverberated across the tall archways. Gold and bronze seemed to coat everything, giving it an ancient sort of texture that echoed in their hearts.

Gralith pressed his palm against a heavy set of doors, weighing as much as mountains. Yet, they moved with a flick of his wrist, not making the slightest sound or even winding up the slightest bit of air current.

The group of four stepped inside, and several gazes landed on them all at once.

They seemed to have been the very last to arrive, but this time, there was an odd combination of Lineage Heads and disciples.

Erethea, the 713th Whale Warlord, sat with three of her disciples. Prione had likewise brought three of his own, as did Aranya. In fact, Aranya’s disciples included someone that Sylas had defeated quite handily not too long ago… Morvok Arothe, the number one ranked E-tier disciple that had inexplicably lost to the number one ranked F-tier disciple.

Then there was the 713th Tiger Warlord Varkhul, who had yet another familiar figure by his side. However, this wasn’t his disciple, but rather, his grandson—the former number one of the F-tier, Scarval.

It was quite the lineup, and Sylas immediately picked up on the fact that these matters likely weren’t simple. Remembering how Scarval had been saved by the Core Sanctum, he felt that these matters were probably related in some way.

‘It seems that we’ve won.’ Sylas thought.

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The meaning behind his thoughts didn’t seem obvious until one considered one fact…

If so many unrelated people were here, then it could only mean one thing: their main purpose was something else.

That meant one obvious thing. The complaints of the Bat Lineage were secondary to the main reason they were here. That said… Sylas’ gaze landed on the Bat Lineage and the disciples they had brought.

Unlike so many others that Sylas recognized, he didn’t recognize any one of the disciples brought this time. They were new faces entirely.

If Sylas was one to sneer, he would probably be doing so right now. It seemed that the Thryskai were really getting desperate.

Now that even their support in the Sanctum was waning, they had no choice but to make a move like this. But it was unfortunate that it was too little, too late.

The Scorpion Lineage moved toward their seats. Sylas could feel the indifferent but sharp gaze of the 713th Lion Warlord on him, but he didn’t look toward the man a single time.

He could guess the latter’s thoughts, and he probably believed it was Sylas’ fault he was forced to make such a decision in the first place.

But all Sylas could see was someone claiming to represent Pride who lacked even the slightest modicum of it.

It left him feeling disgusted.

He knew that this was the fault of the Lion Emperors for weakening the true path of the Lion in the hands of the Warlords. But that didn’t stop his True Pride Seed from stirring up with a Will to crush them nonetheless.

The number one D-tier disciple, and Prione’s third-oldest disciple, was likewise there. His mane was no less gold than his master’s, and he seemed to want to eat Sylas alive. But… He too was ignored as the Scorpion Lineage finally took their seats.

“Nice of you to finally arrive,” Aranya said coolly.

“My disciple was consolidating his gains,” Gralith said faintly, his eyes half closed.

He didn’t explain any further, but the mention of ‘disciple’ seemed to sweep a silence over the hall.

“Then—”

“The Bat Lineage has already made its claims clear. What say you, Gralith Duskthorn?” Byahmad asked coldly.