Chapter 1178: Reward (15)
The thought was like a firestorm in Sylas’ head. The moment he had it, he just couldn’t get rid of it. But unfortunately, as he felt out his Gene Talent on a much, much smaller level, he began to realize the problem.
The Gene Talent allowed him to make the Aether in his surroundings an extension of his body, true. But that meant that unlike how the Aether in his body was catalyzed by his Aether Pathways into his specific niche and what he benefited from most, the Aether in the surroundings was not the same at all.
Aether in this form was free-flowing, a mishmash of countless different types.
If you triggered a certain Skill, the Runes of this Skill would find and interact with compatible Aether to force the results you wanted, but other than this, there was no other way to force the Aether in the surroundings to become the exact sort of Aether you wanted.
Doing so would require filtering a region of all other Aether. But at that point… Sylas would be spending too much effort for an outcome that wasn’t even assured in the first place.
The entire point of Aether in the body was that you could use a small amount of it to trigger a large change in the surroundings. Usually, Skills—even enormously powerful ones that required large sums of internal Aether—only gathered a fraction of what they needed to trigger from a person.
The rest of the power of a Skill all came from the surrounding ambient Aether.
If Sylas was constantly filtering out Aether to form larger and larger concentrations of the exact kind he needed, then what would be the point? He would be trying to do both halves of the work to trigger his Skills, and that would simply be unsustainable.
Let alone his Aether reserves not surviving such a thing, his mind itself would probably crumble long before he could reach the ends he was looking for.
When Sylas got to this point in his thoughts, he couldn’t help but wonder if he had gotten overly excited about this Gene Talent. At this point, it felt like the only ones that could use this Gene Talent to its greatest level of efficacy were those with Aether so common it could easily be found in ambient Aether.
Or, maybe, Sylas would have to wait until he reached a planet with high concentrations of Lightning and Glass Aether and hope for the best.
There was always a chance of this happening. Sylas couldn’t choose the exact path his Gene Talent evolution would take because this time he wasn’t stuffing a Gene Crystal full of all it was worth. Instead, he was practically praying and hoping for the best.
‘… Wait.’
Sylas slowly sat up, his body aching something serious. He felt like he could hardly lift a finger, but he was forcing himself to stand nonetheless.
He dragged himself up until he stood, his body swaying, weak… but his eyes… they were fiercely sharp.
Yes, it was true that only those with the most rudimentary of Aethers could benefit from this… but his own powerful Aether…
It wasn’t normal either.
What made it special?
It was his own personal Poison Rune, a Poison Rune that was designed to savagely suppress, oppress, and cancerously grow—latching onto things, consuming them, and growing from there.
The question was… was it possible to modify his Glassvolt Rune so that it could focus its intention on converting Aether Runes into itself? Was that even possible?
The little girl sat in silence. Hidden away in the Madness Key, she watched the light in Sylas’ eyes change, sighing inwardly.
It was said that the Sloth Seed was the one that consumed its hosts the easiest. There were too many ways to fall into Sloth. The slightest change of habit could steamroll into a pity party for the ages in the blink of an eye.
The greatest friend of Sloth was simply time.
Even the best of marriages could accidentally slip into the mundane—two partners that once loved one another with all their might not growing to hate one another, but slipping into a state of taking things for granted.
Retired athletes often gained weight, their older selves not carrying the same discipline as their younger selves once had, their motivation no longer there as they lacked the internal drive that money, fame, and legacy had once given them.
The examples were as numerous as the stars, and those that spoke of the fear of Sloth were very right. It was why, of all the Seven Sins, the one that managed to become the Incarnation of Lumbering Madness was often the very strongest.
But all of these things were simply relative. A True Seed host—not one gifted their Seed by chance and serendipity—would fall the easiest.
The worst part for Sylas?
He was good.
Too good.
Every time he climbed over a problem. Every time he leapt over a hurdle. Every time he solved an impossible equation and bested someone he had no business even being on the same battlefield with…
That well of Pride would grow.
He had been slumbering for too long. Bored of the world, uncaring to prove himself to everyone… he was the exact perfect host for the Sloth Sin, a man so firmly internally motivated that it was impossible to fathom that he would even slack a single time.
But that was precisely why Sloth would never choose him.
As Runes lit up around Sylas, and he dismissed one after another, inching closer and closer to another shocking solution, and then—right before the little girl’s eyes—once again… succeeding…
She sighed.
Shaking her head, the little girl waved a hand, and a bench appeared beneath her. She made it tall enough that she could sit and swing her little feet, shaking her head again and again.
‘Well, I guess it’ll at least be a good show to watch. What does this universe have left if not entertainment, anyway? There’s no other meaning left.’
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