Genetic Ascension

Moments ago

Sylas sensed the danger before it came. His Rune Spark Mastery moved with such speed that it was hardly even conscious thought.

The First Layer of his Scorpion Warlord Armor took shape, and then came the Second Layer. He didn’t even bother with the Third, his mind moving fast and nimble, sharp and calculating.

When he felt that oppressive might coming from above, he almost sank to his knees. His Aether nearly slipped out of his control, his mind just barely a fraction away from losing its grip on reality.

But as powerful as the old man was, when it came to quality of oppression…

How could he compare to the All-Seeing Eye?

Sylas shrugged off all of the pressure in a single go. No, to say he shrugged it off was incorrect. It was more like he trudged through it, akin to a man possessed, the strings of his Will becoming the pulling and tugging lines that forced his body to move and his Aether to circulate.

In that moment, there was a blinding light around him as his Scorpion Warlord Armor broke through.

The Second Layer moved up from Soul Mastery to Essence Mastery.

Runes accumulated around Sylas so fast that, as mere projections, and so focused on the rampaging Old Brama, no one even noticed what was happening to Sylas…

Because no one thought that Old Brama would be foolish enough to attack Sylas in the first place…

Except, of course, for Old Brama himself.

Which was what made it all the more ridiculous what happened directly afterward.

Old Brama’s hand slammed down. He was certain he hit flesh. He was certain he felt Sylas deform beneath his palm. He was sure that he had locked away every escape hatch and patch. Beneath his pressure, Sylas shouldn’t even be able to move, let alone use his Will to communicate with the world.

In fact, Will was probably the first thing to go when you were suppressed by a superior being.

Yet, it didn’t matter at all.

Sylas used his Scorpion Warlord Armor to sacrifice half his body to Old Brama’s bloodlust-filled palm.

Then he used [Earth Escape] for the first time, pressing himself into the ground and shifting through the marbled ground.

The process was so slow and labored that he almost didn’t make it out of the ground entirely. It was like he was hanging on by the faintest of strings. If he failed to come out of the Earth, he would be crushed by this marble tempered by the strongest world he had ever been on.

But in the end, he survived.

~

Sylas’ appearance startled many. They whipped their heads in his direction, and couldn’t believe what they were seeing.

How… how was he even alive?

Even if it was an E-Grade that attacked Sylas and he had some sort of sacrificial method to get out of it, E-Grade Aether rampaging around in an F-Grade’s body was a death sentence.

The more powerful the attack, the harder it was to heal from. Even if an E-Grade put a sliver of their Aether into an F-Grade, it could be a death sentence…

Let alone the fact Old Brama was in the C-Grade. It could be said that it was actually purely for this reason that Old Brama had managed to keep a decent enough position in the Golden Grove for so long.

“Stop right there!” Yaoyao stood up, blocking the path to Sylas.

“Get out of my way, Yaoyao!”

Old Brama seemed to be half in shock that Sylas survived, and half lost in his thoughts, wondering what he had just experienced.

The feeling was odd.

He had never experienced a person with a Will from just one tier below him, let alone three that could rebuff his own Will like that. There was definitely something odd about Sylas.

However, that “oddity” only made the others want to protect him even more. This was clearly why Gralith Duskthorn wanted him as a disciple. If there was still some speculation before, some minor worries about Sylas stumbling into a badge that wasn’t his own, it had all been thrown out of the window now.

An F-Grade that could survive the strike of a C-Grade. Were Gralith’s other disciples even capable of that when they were at this level?

“Enough!” Yaoyao roared. “Old Brama, I have defended you time and time again, but today, you’ve truly disappointed me.”

Rather than feeling embarrassed, Old Brama only grew more furious.

“He’s a fucking Charysm!”

The words echoed as though it was the vilest of insults, and even Yaoyao, who was in the middle of preparing a violent rant of her own, froze in place.

She stood like that for a long while before turning back to Sylas slowly.

He was still heaving on the ground, his eyes tightly closed. But at the moment, his healing factor was so ridiculous that his inner organs and flesh were bubbling forth in an attempt to mend themselves, his bones bursting out from the seams and raining blood everywhere they moved.

Charysm.

It was a word that painted the image of a dark time all on its own.

The progression path of Will was well known. But what too few knew was that Charisma could be upgraded as well. In fact, tales and legends of Incubi all originated from this true root.

The Charysm didn’t exist in the normal bounds of the universe to begin with. They were an ancient lineage of Demons abhorred and hated by the system, and in this case, they were hated by the common people as well.

Their Charisma talent was the best to ever exist, unmatched in its rigor and effect on those around them. It was simply impossible to resist their imprint, and they could often win battles without lifting a finger at all.

The Imprint of a Charysm was a lifelong ailment, impossible to break unless your Charisma surpassed theirs, or your Will was far superior.

Old Brama was certain. He had sensed it on his granddaughter.

The problem was…

Sylas was human, not some Demon, and certainly not a Charysm.

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