Genetic Ascension

Chapter 1951: Oath

The scene of an E-tier walking toward C-tiers should have been like watching the final moments of a person’s life. And yet, from an outsider’s perspective, it almost felt as though they were watching momentum building instead.

Every step Sylas took was another heavy boom against their hearts. The world shook, the stairs rocked, the Will of the Emperor Sanctum itself frayed at the edges and pieces of it were broken off and incorporated into Sylas’ own body.

‘To think…’ Sylas thought to himself as he reached the bottom stair of the temple. ‘… That it would actually be humans attacking.’

“Die.” A violent upswell of energy surged from the C-tier on the left, the one on the right still charging, but clearly being the far more relaxed of the two. It seemed that he didn’t believe that it was necessary for him to be so involved at all. He was only acting out of duty, not because he felt the need to personally.

‘Veil Humans.’ Sylas thought.

Sylas had met Veil Humans before. They were a B-Grade Race, maybe even a B+ one judging by what Sylas was seeing here.

Of course, they hadn’t met in the best of circumstances. Sylas had killed two of their F-tiers and one of their B- tiers before entering the Champion Dungeon.

Back then, he had taken pretty good lengths to ensure that matter never tied back to him. But judging by their anger here, it seemed they had eventually put two and two together.

With how far and wide Sylas’ name had spread across the Mortal Realm, anyone who wanted to look into him certainly could. At the very least, they could find out about his feats.

Sylas’ name would have surely been in the Champion Dungeon. After that, knowing when and where the B-tier and the two geniuses had fallen, it would have been too easy to deduce that Sylas was responsible.

Under normal circumstances, it would be ridiculous to think an F-tier-which Sylas would have been at the time- would be capable of playing a B-tier to death.

But there was one thing everyone in the Mortal Realm knew by now…

Nothing Sylas did made normal logical sense.

However, they probably weren’t attacking the Emperor Sanctum because of Sylas. The Veil Humans were far weaker than The Sanctum.

A casual glance also showed Sylas that it was more than just the Veil Humans attacking. There were plenty of B- Grade powers mixed into a large assault unit.

Every one of them was trying to take a chunk out of The Sanctum, and it made perfect sense.

If The Sanctum fell and they could split the Karma between them, they would have a chance to elevate themselves to the A-Grade and step in amongst the truly big players of the universe.

This wasn’t just a single army. It was several of them. All attacking while the best of the Sanctum’s geniuses were inside the Mancy Scape and their Ancestors were occupied keeping them all alive.

It was quite the situation, indeed.

These C-tiers, though… weren’t good enough.

[Monek Veil]

[Level: 158]

[Physical: 10 778 472]

[Mental: 12 785 091]

[Will: 10 990 918]

[Ulmin Veil]

[Level: 157]

[Physical: 10 882 332]

[Mental: 12 782 991]

[Will: 10 992 998]

Sylas had seen D-tiers stronger than this. In fact…

His own stats were stronger than this.

He didn’t even raise his scythe, reaching out a palm as a hammer compressing space everywhere it passed descended above him.

Pa.

The sound of the connection was so soft one would have thought they were simply sparring.

All of the accumulated space cracked and then shattered. But rather than like glass, it almost floated away like ash and sparking embers, fluttering across the wind until there was nothing at all left.

Lightning sparked in Sylas’ palm and the web-like cracks began to accelerate across the surface of the hammer until it looked like it might collapse to the slightest gust of wind.

And then that was exactly what happened.

The Veil Human, Monek, stood frozen, his arms still holding up what was left of his hammer. It was like Sylas had left him a stick to play with out of pity.

However, anyone who knew Sylas knew all too well how little he cared to show mercy. The moniker of human… was absolutely worthless to him.

Veil Human, Thryskai, or Demon…

What difference did it make?

There was a spark of lightning in Sylas’ eyes as his gaze met with that of the Veil Human shaking from head to toe. With a PA, a bolt streaked out, shattering the latter’s head into a rain of blood and gore.

Sylas took a step forward, walking past the second Veil Human as though he wasn’t there. And yet, just when Ulmin thought that Sylas had chosen to spare his life for an inexplicable reason, the ashy remains of the compressed space Monek had formed swept by him… Tearing him to shreds.

Ulmin didn’t even know he died until his consciousness went black. Veil Humans were so proud of their spatial control and defenses… But what good was any of that compared to Sylas?

Sylas didn’t even look back, continuing forward until he stood at the very edge of the temple’s platform. The structure stood as tall, large, and looming as a celestial body, no smaller than any moon or planet.

Hovering there, it truly felt like a world of its own. There was something about its grandiosity that made Sylas feel like he was looking down on the world while he watched the carnage ravaging The Sanctum’s lands from above.

Sylas raised and then slammed the butt of his scythe down, its body piercing into the sturdy stone as though a knife through butter.

Slowly, he rolled up his sleeves as waves of death, darkness, and sparking violet and emerald lightning rippled out in all directions.

His beige khakis whipped against his body in the heavy winds, his pressed, black dress shirt contouring his broad chest and wide chiseled shoulders.

From his ear, a small serpent formed a silver-black earring, dancing in the winds no less than his wild, mane-like hair.

“I swear.” Sylas said.

The skies boomed in response, the start of a System Oath taking shape in thick bolts of lightning.

“I will make no attempt to escape, no attempt to flee, form no intention of cowardice. Those that step into my Sanctum will bear the consequences.

“One day, their lands will be the ones ravaged, their people will spill blood, their treasures will be plundered.” The Monkey King Mountain shook.