Genetic Ascension

Sylas’ body seemed to sway. He vanished and appeared again as though he had always been right in front of Zolte.

Chi.

The Space and Time Runes around Sylas shattered to pieces the moment he entered the range of the Thryskai genius. They were just F-Grade Runes, and the Will of an E-tier was too great.

Rather than being teleported within arm’s reach, Sylas was a full three meters away. But his expression seemed just the same, not shifting or changing in the slightest.

There was a coldness to his gaze at the moment that was unmoved by the world.

Zolte took advantage, slashing out his halberd.

But just when it was about to cut across Sylas, the latter’s body faded as though it were a mere mirage, a mirror that didn’t exist in this world at all.

Sylas appeared right in front of Zolte as though he had always been there once again. It was like the reality of the former Sylas with shattered Runes didn’t exist.

The True Pride Seed took control of the world around Sylas, and Sylas began to cast Runes with his Archon Casting measures. He wrote one Rune into existence after another, making Zolte question which way was up and which way was down—he didn’t even know what was reality any longer.

A shattered Rune? Maybe if Zolte was a D-tier he could manage such a thing. But in front of a Primus Luminaria?

A crown of sparkling light appeared above Sylas’ head, his twelve eyes flashing as he swept out a leg.

Zolte slammed the butt of his halberd into the ground to block, only for Sylas’ leg to sweep through the opposite side he blocked from.

Confusion colored Zolte’s face as he fell to a knee, Sylas’ own knee slamming into his nose the moment he fell to hip height.

His brain rattled in his skull, but to his credit, he tried to counter, swinging out his halberd even on a single knee, but Sylas had already hopped into the air as though he had always been there.

Zolte’s blade passed through an afterimage he could have sworn was Sylas’ real body, only to be shaken when there was no blood.

Crouching as he leapt into the air, Sylas suddenly spun, unfurling his body to unleash a devastating ax kick right onto the center of Zolte’s head.

The sickening sound echoed through the otherwise quiet hall, the eyes of every single one of them so focused on this battle that many had forgotten to breathe.

Zolte felt like he was losing his mind, but to an outsider’s perspective, it looked as though he was continuously swinging at air while Sylas treated his body like a bean bag.

The Thryskai genius’ face slammed into the hard concrete, his skull cracking in yet another place as his nose practically splattered across the floor.

Pain.

It was all he could feel—just endless pain.

Sylas landed on the ground, exhaling a breath, but that didn’t pause his actions as he raised up a hand to the skies.

An enormous hand of emerald green took shape, heavy and formed of his telekinesis. It trembled.

[Glassvolt Prism Arts].

An enormous halberd took shape, and the hand gripped at it.

‘Your Comprehension isn’t really worth it. But I’ll take it for the moment,’ Sylas thought indifferently.

There was a surge of might as he swapped to his Glassvolt Comprehension, his Intelligence skyrocketing once again. It was already almost 17,000, and with another over 10x boost, it was nearing 200,000—numbers that only the best of E-tiers in this Sector would achieve, and many D-tiers chased after.

‘Die.’

The command practically resonated from Sylas’ Will, but just as his halberd was about to fall, reaping Zolte’s life, a powerful presence descended.

Sylas felt his Will shatter, and his [Glassvolt Prism Art] crumbled. He coughed up a mouthful of blood and took a single, heavy step back.

Zolte seemed to regain his senses, his gaze in a daze for only a brief instant before he jumped to his feet, his palm reaching out and slapping at Sylas’ stomach.

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Sylas seemed to be more than capable of sensing this, his Temporal Delay Progenitor Flame Ability making even the actions of C-tiers somewhat approachable to him—though not perfect.

But his body was slow to react.

That said, his gaze didn’t seem very focused on Zolte at all. Instead, he felt almost curious…

‘How unexpected. But good information nonetheless,’ Sylas thought.

Others might feel rage, unwillingness, fury at such a situation. It was clearly his win, but someone far more powerful than himself had interfered. But Sylas almost didn’t care.

Of course, this would be remembered. All debts would be paid without a doubt.

But to care?

As far as Sylas was concerned, no one in the world owed him anything, and it was foolish to hope that they would.

If you had an agenda as a C-tier, and you let an F-tier get in the way of it when you could just kill them, as far as Sylas was concerned, you weren’t noble—you were an idiot.

He certainly wouldn’t allow such a thing if he could help it. If an F-tier was in his way, he wouldn’t hesitate to kill them.

Those that were against such things probably thought themselves to be above it all. But if Sylas let those thoughts command him, he would never take action at all… because he felt that he was above everyone.

That was why his actions weren’t dictated by morality. He acted based on whether he felt like it and if he was intrigued enough.

So he didn’t feel angry, not this time. There was something far more worthy of being angry about occupying his mind. Maybe until he had dealt with those people, he wouldn’t be able to get angry at anything else. He had a bit of a one-track mind.

As for what Zolte was doing now, given how long his mind had had to think, he had mostly figured it out.

‘An interesting angle to take’ Sylas thought indifferently.

BANG!

A power slammed into Sylas’ belly, a surge of Aether rocketing through him just as his Scorpion Warlord Armor shattered.