Genetic Ascension

Chapter 1221  Sanguara

”This fucking bastard.”

A Demon with skin as red as hell and a tail that flickered into a spade gnashed his teeth, the grinding sensation sending sparks of fire into the air around him.

Anslaʼs moan was subtle in all the noise, but they were all experts, and too many of them had been watching from the very start. This wasnʼt a side of Ansla any of them had ever even seen. She teased, she lured, but she never showed this much, nor did she ever open up this much.

Especially not in front of her father.

It was like watching the woman wind around the finger of Sylas. How much pull did he have over her? It was absolutely infuriating.

”Your jealousy is showing. Sheʼll never be attracted to that,”

Ebisonʼs elder sister laughed almost maniacally. Well, as maniacally as you could laugh beneath your breath, her breasts swaying wildly from side to side.

”Shut the fuck up.”

”Keep talking to me like that and Iʼll go dance with him next.

He seems to really know what a woman wants if he can make Ansla of all people act like that.”

”Whey, say one more thing and Iʼm sticking a knife through your eye.”

If it was a normal sibling pairing, this might have been nothing more than a joke. But Ebison had long pulled a knife.

”Looks like Iʼm definitely dancing with him.” Whey stopped laughing with a sneer.

”Iʼd like to see you try. See if Ansla doesnʼt slit your fucking throat.”

”Oh my, the woman you want fighting your elder sister over the man she wants. What a comeback. With a tongue like that, itʼs a wonder why she hasnʼt taken a liking to you.”

Ebison almost pounced, but a shivering cold ripped through his spine, his fatherʼs gaze sending him into an ice cellar that even snuffed out the flames dancing around his teeth.

It seemed that no one was eager to be on… their chopping block next.

Ebisonʼs gaze flickered toward the cloaked figures before turning away.

”Canʼt you sense that?” Ebison practically hissed. ”Heʼs just an insignificant little Incubus. Ansla is clearly not the woman I thought she was.”

”Iʼve always wanted to play around with an Incubus, but theyʼre all bottom feeders. This one, though…” Wheyʼs eyelashes practically fluttered. ”He has a manliness to him those twinks donʼt have. A normal Incubus would have folded in front of Ansla on the first meeting.”

There was a wide spectrum Incubi could fall under. The vast majority were the dregs of society, only capable of preying on the weakest of women. But then there were some like Sylas…

You wouldnʼt even find a single Incubus here in higher society, which was why Sylas was such a surprise.

However, this ”surprise” also made them peg Sylas as a very particular type of person. Obviously, Ansla was the tree trunk he had chosen to cling onto.

On the one hand, Sylas was clearly dangerous. On the other… he was not a threat, and certainly not someone the Barbed Chain Gang would stick their necks out to protect.

Ebison scowled, his sisterʼs words only pissing him off more.

”You know, if you were a real man, you could do something about this.”

”And what would that be?” Ebison looked over. His sister had a head he wanted to chop off six or seven days out of the week, but on one of those special, special days, she just might say something useful.

”Why donʼt you ask the Duchess to dance?” an evil grin spread across Wheyʼs face.

Ebison went completely stiff, his gaze shifting to one of the cloaked figures and then snapping back so hard he nearly broke his own neck.

Clearly, this wasnʼt one of those ”special” days.

”You fucking madwoman,” Ebison hissed. ”Are you trying to get me killed?!”

Whey blinked innocently. ”You just threatened to stab my head through, and now youʼre getting mad at me?”

In truth, their family was most definitely among the three strongest here. It was just that the gap between two and three versus number one was an unfathomably vast chasm.

The Sanguara werenʼt a Race of Demons that could be so insulted so easily, and they were the entire reason this banquet was being held. And even though not a single matter of substance had taken place yet, no one dared to leave, and no one dared to try and sway things toward that direction either.

By comparison, the Blazara Race were just insignificant little ants.

That said, the Barbed Chain Gang was to them what they were to the Sanguara. So, seeing a woman that should so easily be in the palm of his hands flying off with an Incubus of all things made the fire in his belly—quite literally—rage.

Ebison looked over toward another table only to find another bastard he hated staring back.

Herrer of the Ghorath Race. Those damned giant-sized sons of bitches and their boulders for shoulders. How he expected to bed Ansla without snapping her in half was beyond him.

That wasnʼt an exaggeration either. Herrer probably went through another poor woman every day. The idiot didnʼt know how to pick on someone his own size—quite literally, once again.

It seemed, though, that Herrer had also been told to relax and sit down by his higher-ups. Otherwise, that brute would have long acted ridiculously. As bad as Ebison was at controlling his temper, Herrer was even worse.

The sounds of him crunching bone to minced pulp

continuously echoed beneath the music, chatter, and clinking of plates.

However, for a moment, the two seemed to share a moment of solidarity.

…

Ansla swayed in Sylasʼ arm, but he caught her before she fell.

Her eyes were misty, but she was slowly regaining some of her bearings.

”What did you do to me…” she whispered, less as an

accusation, and more as a method of flirting.

”Just what I should,” Sylas replied casually.

”Iʼve never felt that way before. You are quite good at driving women crazy.”

Sylasʼ eyes flickered as he seemed to sense an opportunity.

”Thereʼs no woman out of my reach. Itʼs just a matter of whether they catch my interest or not.”

There was a domineeringness to it that made Ansla shiver all over, and she almost lost control again.

Sylas had expected someone to take the obvious bait, but the voice that spoke was a surprise even to him. Soft and sultry, magnetic and enticing, a response came from the cloaked Sanguara.

”Is that so?”