Genetic Ascension

Chapter 1839: Root [Bonus]

The calm words echoed across the Horizon as the System Oath took root.

Countless individuals, even those formerly not paying attention or who weren't roped into this matter in the first place, found themselves looking up into the skies.

As for those that were having images of Earth projected to them, all they saw was a young man calmly adjusting the wraps around his fists and wrists, rolling up his sleeves and tightening one before doing the same with the other.

He stood there as though it wasn't he who had spoken the words at all, and he dressed as though he were going into a business meeting rather than a battle for the future of his planet.

And yet, all Xalor could seem to see was the shattered decree. His eyes watched the dispersing motes of light, the co-opting of his people's treasure to send a message that co-signed their humiliation.

And then he finally seemed to see Sylas himself.

Xalor moved. His step and the swing of his blade were already at Sylas' neck. But just as it was about to cut through the latter, it completely froze in place.

Sylas finished adjusting his Scorned Wraps and looked up. His eyes scanned the blade and then turned toward the person holding it.

In reality, this was the first time he truly laid eyes on Xalor. He hadn't cared who it was that was in the skies before. All he cared about was the fact he felt like someone was trying to trample on him.

And in a situation like that one, he didn't want a long, drawn-out battle. He didn't want them to feel any sort of superiority, any sort of real chance.

He wanted to prove his own point.

In that moment, Xalor felt as though he had been chained by Earth itself.

Did they know Sylas was Earth's Progenitor? They almost certainly did. But...

Did they know that Sylas was the Milky Way's Progenitor?

Apparently not.

Sylas raised a finger, a sharp claw extending forward and touching the barest hint of Xalor's armor. It was just the softest of touches, and yet the claw nicked the armor nonetheless.

"Die," Sylas said coldly.

It happened so fast it was hard to register what was happening. A beam of black and twisting silver took shape, first so very narrow in scope and tiny in focus, before expanding so far and so wide, so long and so expansive, that it tailed Earth itself.

If one looked from the moon, it would look as though a stretch of black space had ripped through Earth, following its arc around the sun.

And then it slowly blinked out. Shrinking into a line first, and then separating across the horizon into dashes that vanished one after another.

Sylas slowly lowered his hand, and Xalor seemed completely frozen in the air.

The front of the Valentrix's chest carried a hole so small it couldn't even be seen clearly without squinting. However, the hole in his back was so large that what was left of his beating, burning heart could be seen.

It felt like there was a silence that gripped the world.

Patriarch Saeng Kaelthar looked up at the projection above him. It was a scene that could be seen throughout the Milky Way Horizon, and soon enough, there would almost certainly be nearby Horizons who tried to patch in.

It wasn't every day that a civilization with the capability of sending a Horizon-wide message appeared-least of all the Angels.

In truth, Saeng knew extremely little about these Angels. This wasn't just because they were a God Race-or, more accurately, a group of God Races-but because as far as he knew, their actual place in every individual Heaven was quite... peculiar.

Demi-God Thryskai had Angel Wings and were technically part of the Angels. So as one might imagine, so too would the God Thryskai.

In fact, if one looked through every Heaven one by one, the Race at the very pinnacle would usually have Angel Wings of some kind. There were some exceptions, but even in those cases, there were other Races at the God level that might be just a half-tier beneath them in power that would.

This made Angel Wings a sign of real and true status. But what those beneath the God Realms didn't understand was how it all connected. Because as far as they knew, those that showed in lower worlds to enforce the power of the Angels never seemed to have true connections with the God Races they did know to have them.

It was like there was a mysterious third party they didn't understand.

Many had their own theories about what this meant or what was going on. Some thought that maybe Angel Wings were secretly the key to Godhood, so in order to protect that secret, the Gods created lesser Races like the Valentrix to be their envoys and do their bidding in the lower realms.

They all knew how powerful and dangerous the System was, so they had to be cautious with how they interfered. So it made sense that this might be the best way to handle things.

But there were many smart, well-studied people who hesitated to accept this as the greatest truth.

As he watched things... Saeng couldn't help but feel that maybe these people had a point. He couldn't put his finger on it... but something just felt... Off.

Almost... artificial.

This was the first time he was seeing the Angels in action himself, and it took this before he could really feel what those scholars spoke about.

Why did these Angels feel so... lab-grown?

"If Isra was here..." Saeng looked toward the coffin he had sealed his wife in, his expression darkening.

He closed his eyes, forcing himself to calm down. He already had a plan. If the Angels could do it for him without him having to lift a finger... All the better.

He opened his eyes slowly.

If Sylas thought that such a Race was so easy to handle, he was more foolish than Saeng thought.