Genetic Ascension

Chapter 1308: Foolishness

Sylas had forgotten.

There was a price to pay when you poured all of your focus onto one task, not letting anything else distract you. On the one hand, it had made his speed so much faster. On the other… he had forgotten his greatest flaw.

It didn’t matter how powerful his Rune Mastery was, nor did it matter how great and amazing he turned out to be. His starting position would always be the factor that held him back the most.

Maybe there was a fantasy land he could live in where he mastered all of the Beast Emperor Armors and claimed a Legendary Gene from each one of them, crafting himself into the perfect specimen.

But right now, Sylas’ body probably couldn’t even withstand a Gold Gene—not that he had ever had the chance to try—let alone multiple Legendary ones.

It was like the world was reminding him that he was still at the bottom of the barrel, that it didn’t matter how highly he thought of himself, it would remind him of where his place truly was.

In the gutter. That was what he deserved.

“You’re sure?”

Faint sounds reached the edges of Sylas’ consciousness. But for it to do so, it was certain that whoever was speaking had a booming voice. No… it wasn’t just a booming voice.

Sylas could ignore practically everything in the state that he was in. He was nothing more than a wisp of emerald floating in the wind, ready to be wisped away at any point. Even the Scorpion Emperor Armor he had formed was no more.

His Will was practically crumbling, and there was nothing here for it to continue to cling to.

As for Gralith, he was a mess on the ground, vaguely humanoid in a twisting mesh of armor, flesh, and bone. He had completely lost consciousness, and the only reason he was still alive at all was because he was a C-tier.

But even then, he probably didn’t have very long to live either.

All this time it took for him to reach the Beast Warlord Sanctum, and it was practically like whatever fantasies he was dreaming of were coming crashing down right this moment.

Those thoughts of control, of taking the reins of his life, of improving one bound after the next until he could stand atop the world…

The voice was only able to reach him so clearly because it was laced with a subconscious Will so powerful that even Sylas couldn’t ignore it, even if he wanted to. It was like it was forcing the world to listen to them.

And then he heard the click and clack of someone walking down those golden steps. It was such a departure from what they had experienced just now.

Gralith couldn’t even make it to the tenth, and yet this person was walking down from a much higher stage as though there wasn’t any pressure at all.

Not by choice of his own, Sylas was forced to look at the people ahead of him. It was much like their voice had penetrated into his psyche—their presence couldn’t be ignored by him either. Not only was he forced to listen, but he was forced to look, to pay attention, to give them his earnest senses instead of just a periphery segment of his mind.

It wasn’t more than two people, one middle-aged, the other young. Both wore a combined mesh of leather and beast skin armor, and while they looked human for the most part, they had those familiar, penetrating violet eyes that somehow seemed very much not.

The middle-aged man had slick, greying hair—a mishmash of black and white strands that gave him a signature, almost silver fox-like appearance that women loved so much.

And then the young man that followed after him seemed to have gained the same handsome air from his middle-aged counterpart, their relation as clear as day. He had an unreadable, calm expression, unbothered and unmoved by the world. It was probably the sort of look that Sylas gave most everyone he met.

Neither seemed to help the other down the stairs—they moved themselves.

In his forced, focused state, Sylas was able to hear that panicking, shocked voice from earlier finally reply to the question he had been forced to hear earlier as well.

“Yes, yes. Of course, I am sure. I wouldn’t call your lordships here otherwise.”

They reached the bottom of the steps, gazing at the mess that was Gralith. There was nothing that remained of Sylas at all other than that fluttering mass of emerald.

It was just that while to Sylas he seemed quite dim, to those around him… he was shining as bright as a sun. A mortal looking directly at him would be blinded for the rest of their lives, and even the young man beside the middle-aged man’s side had to squint and blink, looking away from time to time.

The middle-aged man waved a hand, and against Sylas’ Will, he was pulled into the man’s palm. It was then the indifferent look on the man’s face became shock as well.

He waved another hand, and the Legendary Gene hovering in Sylas’ Will—protected by him as though hoping for a miracle—was pulled out.

While Sylas tried to keep it, to fight for what he had forged for himself, he couldn’t. And deep inside… he knew that it was useless even to try.

That Gene… it could only be formed once and absorbed once. If it could be crafted again, Gralith would have never warned him to only take it in when he was sure he had reached the limit of his potential.

Now, it was in the hands of another he didn’t know, and his mind was far too foggy to deduce the obvious answer… or care to in the first place.

The blow he had just suffered was heavy. Maybe even heavier than that day in the volcano.

“This is the answer to your foolishness. It will fix everything.” The middle-aged man’s eyes glinted with excitement, looking over toward the young man with what seemed like a mixture of relief and exasperation.

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