Genetic Ascension

Sylas didn’t say anything for a long while. And when he finally did, it wasn’t with his mouth, but rather his Runes.

Zin.

Sylas’ wrist moved vigorously, and in what felt like a single downstroke, accelerating, he was finished.

A strong, rippling light spread out in all directions, exuding a thick, poisonous stench.

Gralith’s eyes widened, but Sylas had already flipped the paper over, suffocating the light and moving again.

Vak.

He moved again.

Tho.

Again.

Every stroke carried the air of an expert, and staring at him now, it was like a Scorpion King was peering over his shoulder, its pincer fusing into his arm and stinging out with a piercing strike every time his arm moved.

Gri.

Shu.

Dro.

CHI. CHI. CHI.

Sylas’ arm glided in place, finishing three with a single flicker. The paper began to burn with a dense purple flame, combusting in real time. It was unable to withstand the fire at all, the aura far too much for it to handle.

Mak.

Tzu.

Fen.

Sylas drew the final three in the flames themselves, drawing the violet flickers in on themselves and weaving a tale of countless millennia.

The very essence of his Runes carried a soul that soared through, shimmering like a heartbeat that resonated with the world.

And then it broke past.

Sylas pulled his arm back, slowly lowering the brush. Between him and his master, there was a dancing aura of violet-black that hung, revealing nothing but the density of their eyes to the other party.

Sylas’ eyes were a heavy green, Gralith’s a dense grey to silver.

There was a kick up of wind, and Gralith’s hair seemed to dance to its tune, shifting all on its own.

For a long while, the silence between them was just as heavy as their auras. A pair of master and disciple held the same disposition.

Slowly, the sharpness in Gralith’s eyes dimmed, and his hair settled to his shoulders. The air of heaviness around him rested down like a leaf fluttering from an ancient tree.

And then he spoke.

"I see, so this is why you took so long to return. I knew that you didn’t trust me, but this level of distrust is quite something. Though, I would say that at least in this case, your arrogance is warranted.

"Usually, I wouldn’t tell a talented disciple—especially one already ignorant to the ways of the world—where they stand. It builds egos. But something tells me your ego is already large to the point of being unfathomable, and yet you likewise won’t change your habits based on this information.

"I also think that it’s important for you to have this context. Are you aware of how many can draw the Scorpion Foundations to the level of Essence Mastery like you just did?"

Sylas’ Scorpion Warlord Armor was at Soul Mastery, 60% perfect. Essence Mastery, however, was 75% perfect, and it was a step beyond that of Soul Mastery.

If Sylas’ Scorpion Warlord Armor as a whole had improved so much, it was only natural that his ability to draw the Foundations had skyrocketed as well.

"In the F-Grade, there are only three capable of drawing them to Soul Mastery. The only ones that can draw the F-Grade Foundations to Essence Mastery have already long formed their D-Grade Scorpion Warlord Armor at the very least, and even then it is not more than a few dozen. None of this mentions how much time it took you.

"Your standards of Rune Mastery simply should not be in this region of the star chart."

Gralith looked toward Sylas calmly as the last of the flames finally flickered out, the leather paper holding them in reality finally unable to hold out anymore.

Otherwise… it was clear and obvious that they just might have burned into infinity.

"What level has your Scorpion Warlord Armor reached?"

"Soul."

Gralith had been expecting a similar answer, but his pupils still trembled slightly. He returned to normal quickly enough, and then shook his head.

"You are talented, I saw as much. But you aren’t this talented. I’m skeptical that anyone is this talented. So what is the change?" Gralith asked straightforwardly.

Sylas’ gaze flashed, and he activated his Progenitor Flame Ability. Time slowed, and Gralith gained a depth in his eyes that made him feel like he was sinking into an abyss.

For some reason, no matter how hard he tried, Gralith was moving at the same pace, as though passing through the layers of Sylas’ time warp.

Realizing what was happening and how Sylas’ Will was about to collapse, Gralith waved a hand. The Progenitor Flame Ability almost gently shattered, if that was possible.

Sylas felt like he had gone from being chained to a speeding train to being gently released to the ground. He gasped for breath, feeling like he had been very close to death just now.

"A Will Ability… A truly shocking one… it is no wonder… Do not use that ability on those with stronger Will than yourself. You will suffer severe backlash."

Sylas only nodded.

"This makes up for the largest weakness you have. In this world, personal comprehension can only bring you so far. I thought you would struggle without Race-specific advantages, but this works too."

Gralith looked up from his thoughts and met Sylas’ gaze.

"Now tell me, did you come here to learn the second layer, or for something else?"

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"I will. But, I would like help with something else."

"And that is?" That light tug pulled at Gralith’s lips again.

Sylas looked up, and a tome fell from above. It had a heavy air of ancientness to it, and when Gralith saw it, his amusement vanished, replaced by a solemn air.

This tome was none other than the one Sylas was awarded with after the Mountains of Giza Split Realm.

He had been trying to go through it himself, but he quickly found that although it only touched on foundational concepts, it was extremely complex. He didn’t have the time and energy to give it with the world falling around him every day.

But… he had a feeling that if he had someone to guide him through it, he would make ten times the progress.

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