Genetic Ascension
Chapter 2406: The Answer
Sylas didn’t reply immediately, and instead remained seated as he looked toward Rhykan with an expression of complete calm. There were still details he couldn’t see, but he had formed enough theories about what the Beast Emperor Sanctum was actually doing that the broad shape of the answer was already obvious to him.
Almost every possibility Sylas had considered revolved around the same ubiquitous point, which was an evolution of Will. The system had always struggled with Will in a way it never struggled with Strength, Constitution, Intelligence, or even Charisma, able to measure and reward it while never quite managing to force it into a structure that truly represented what it was.
Whether the solution ended up being a fusion of Will and Constitution, Will and Intelligence, or Will with some other foundation hardly mattered. The Beast Emperor Sanctum was clearly searching for a more perfect path for the one stat the system had never properly understood, and the five Representative Wills had simply been different possibilities competing to become the accepted answer.
Rhykan had, indeed, cheated, though the more Sylas understood what he had done, the less appropriate that word felt. He had found another vessel for Slovenly Madness, one the system wouldn’t immediately recognize, then used that vessel to present an already perfected Will Path as though it had been created here for the first time.
The irony was almost ridiculous when Sylas considered it fully, since the same Madness System the current system had always hated and restricted had now been rewarded with the Progenitor Status of a World that could open an eighth seat into the God Realm.
Even that description undersold the result, since Rhykan hadn’t merely gained a clear road to Godhood whenever he decided he was ready to walk it. As Progenitor, everyone who came after him and followed this path would feed Karma back toward him, strengthening his foundation through accomplishments that weren’t even his own. He would benefit as though he had created the path himself, despite Slovenly Madness existing long before he ever touched it.
The sheer accumulation that could produce over time was almost impossible to calculate.
Sylas’ gaze shifted briefly toward Caracos Thar as blue-steel lightning moved across her white fur in slow, controlled arcs, carrying several times more power than before without any of the earlier waste.
Rhykan had taken the legacy of the Madness Key, stripped away the restrictions placed on it by the current system, then allowed it to bloom under entirely different rules while positioning himself as the ancestor of everything that followed.
Then there was the territory itself, which made the reward even more absurd. Within the borders of this world, Rhykan wouldn’t merely possess the standing of a Demi-God, but would effectively become a God with access to an authority far more complete than the clipped fragments those descending from the God Realm had been forced to use.
That difference changed everything, since Rhykan could now build his path, refine it, tear portions apart, then rebuild them again while still hiding beneath the protective shroud of Demi-Godhood. By the time he finally decided to ascend properly, he could enter the God Realm with a foundation polished through repeated access to powers he shouldn’t have been capable of touching until much later.
It was more than worthy of the Madness Key, and in truth, Sylas suspected it had already surpassed what the current version of the Key itself could provide. The Karma, authority, strength, and future benefits Rhykan could accumulate from this victory would continue compounding until the value became difficult to describe with anything as simple as a reward list.
Calling all of that cheating almost made the accomplishment sound cheap.
Even if Rhykan explained every step he had taken and laid out every condition perfectly, how many people would actually be capable of reproducing it? Understanding the method was one thing, while possessing the insight and willingness to gamble everything on forcing the system to accept it was another matter entirely. I was walking along a tight rope where one side’s fall led to an infernal hell, and the other led to infinite darkness.
Sylas stood slowly from his throne without changing expression, then lifted his gaze away from Rhykan and toward the skies above. His eyes eventually settled on Yamero, the serpent formed from spatial Runes winding silently through the air, and Sylas remained looking at him for what seemed like much longer than it truly was.
Only a few seconds passed, yet for the people gathered here that amount of time could contain an absurd number of actions. Januar could probably write pages in that span, Tomoe could cross distances most people would need hours to travel, and Rhykan himself could accomplish more in those moments than ordinary people might manage in days.
Sylas eventually looked away from Yamero and turned his attention toward the collapsed mountain in the distance, where the remnants of Monkey King Mountain lay scattered across the horizon. He had destroyed it himself to close the loop that once trapped him, ensuring the path that returned him to the future could no longer repeat.
For some reason that ruined mountain held his attention longer than Rhykan’s new throne ever had.
Then Sylas made a decision that seemed to catch everyone else off guard.
"Let’s go."
There was no anger in his voice and no challenge thrown toward Rhykan, nor did Sylas make any attempt to dispute the outcome of the Quicktime Event. He simply stepped away from the throne and began walking through the skies as though the Beast Emperor Sanctum had already lost whatever value it once possessed for him.
Only three people understood immediately that his words were meant for them, and Elara was the first to move as she jumped from her throne and raced after her brother. Fanelei hesitated for barely a moment before scampering after the siblings, while high above them Yamero curved through space and began snaking toward Sylas without needing any further instruction.
Sylas never looked back. Deep within his eyes, there was a flickering, restrained battle intent.
It took everything in him not to reach for the scythe hovering after him now.
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