Genetic Ascension

Sylas’ words were spoken so casually that even though it was akin to a heavy stone being thrown into a calm lake, no one reacted. It was as though the stone itself passed through a portal of illogical reason and landed at the very bottom without the slightest hint of disturbance.

To stand before a council of powerhouses on their level while not even in the process of building his F-Grade Foundation… and say such words so boldly, so casually…

Was it because of his ignorance? Or was it something else?

Maybe if he hadn’t taken out that badge, they would have already reached their own conclusion. Obviously, it would be one that deemed him a boy who didn’t know the immensity of the skies.

However, they knew the weight that badge held. Sylas might only be able to deploy just the first layer now, but what about the others?

It was common knowledge that Gralith only had three disciples.

His eldest disciple, Warlord Ekear, had already stepped into the C-Grade. But that wasn’t what was most important. It was that when he was in the F-Grade, he had not only reached the top 100 of F-Grade powerhouses in the Sector, but had also reached the top 10 in Rune Masters…

Leaving the F-Grade as an Essence Rune Master.

His second disciple, Warlord Khan, sat at the very peak of the D-Grade. When he was in the F-Grade, not only had he reached the top 50 in F-Grade powerhouses of the Sector, but he had also reached the top 30 in Rune Masters…

Leaving the F-Grade as an Essence Rune Master.

His youngest… no, his third disciple, Warlord Gwenu, was building her E-Grade Foundation as they spoke, preparing for entry into the D-Grade. When she was in the F-Grade, not only did she reach the top 10 in F-Grade powerhouses of the Sector, but she also reached the top 5 in Rune Masters…

Leaving the F-Grade as a Vitality Rune Master.

Whether it was in combat or Rune Mastery, each and every one of Gralith’s disciples was on a level they couldn’t fathom.

They didn’t know what level Sylas had reached just yet, but if history was any indicator, he would become an Essence Rune Master at the very worst.

In the entirety of the Golden Grove, they only had a handful of Soul Rune Mancers. The dividing line between Soul and Essence was so large that often times, it was spoken of like a Tier divide.

What was clear, though, was that even if Sylas wasn’t there yet, Gralith had seen enough potential in him to take a chance on a fourth disciple he had yet to even meet in person.

Just what level of talent was Sylas?

However, by the same token… Gralith had yet to announce Sylas’ existence to the world as well. They all knew that the ceremony for the acceptance of a disciple of a Named Warlord was on a completely different level.

Gralith had never introduced a disciple to the world that died during theirs, but other Warlords had, and it was certainly in the cards.

While Gralith would certainly treat Sylas as a real disciple right now, it was simple humanoid nature not to invest too much into Sylas until he took that final step and proved himself.

Judging by the fact Sylas had only used the First Layer of the Scorpion Warlord Armor—otherwise, they would have never mistaken it for the Thryskai Rune Armor—they assumed that this assumption on their part was the truth.

Even so, all of this was to say that…

Sylas had the capital to say such arrogant words.

To the side, Zayreus had found himself frozen ever since Sylas spoke the words “Beast Warlord Sanctum.” It had been his dream for as long as he could remember to step into that organization. Being a merchant had never made his blood thrum like battle could.

The Gold Race were all battle Races who had forgotten their roots, and it pissed him off every day they spent behind desks pencil-pushing.

To hear that Sylas already had the red carpet rolled out for him made him feel as though his heart was being eaten alive by ants.

Sylas had ignored him since he stepped to the side, but seemingly sensing the hostility, he looked over calmly, his gaze hardly changing.

It was the same indifferent look he had given him when he spoke out his warning earlier.

When Sylas didn’t respond earlier, it felt as though maybe he was taking the warning seriously, that he was weighing his options, or maybe that he even felt afraid.

But now Zayreus realized the truth.

Sylas didn’t respond back then because it would have been a waste of his time.

Sylas was about to look away when his eyes flashed, his Luck blaring warnings at him.

Without even thinking, Sylas ducked and rolled as the doors behind him shattered to pieces.

A furious and familiar old man soared toward Sylas, his eccentric white hair split by a horn that extended right up from the middle of his forehead.

Old Brama.

“YOU SON OF A BITCH!”

Yaoyao was about to call out to tell Old Brama that everything was fine, even ready to try and send some strong waves of Aether to try and stop him from attacking who he assumed would be Zayreus’ grandfather, but to her shock, the old man’s target wasn’t the buddha-like man at all…

It was Sylas.

Taken off guard, Yaoyao didn’t even know how to react. Sylas’ life and death would make or break Old Brama’s position in the guild. He had been suppressed for so long, and now he finally had a chance to bring everything back to order and reforge the prestige he had lost…

But now he was going to kill the one man that could stop that?

“DO YOU THINK YOU CAN JUST TAKE ADVANTAGE OF MY GRANDDAUGHTER BECAUSE YOU HAVE A LITTLE BACKING?!”

Sylas had barely dodged the flying doors, their pace so fast it would have definitely killed him on impact.

But the palm falling from above him…

He didn’t even know what he could do against that.

And neither did the projections in the surroundings. None of them were here in their real forms.

They could only watch as the madman killed a youth with a master who could lay waste to the Golden Grove on his own.

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