Genetic Ascension

1589 Random

”The world is a cruel place. The Emperor Sanctum respects its Warlords, but we need warriors more than we need burdens. You donʼt get a chance to prove yourself in the real world. You have to prove that you have the right to prove yourself.”

The moment Sylas heard these words, he knew it was going to be a problem.

The words were logical. No one was going to wait around for you to slowly grow into your potential. Unless you were strong enough already, no one would give a damn. That was the harsh truth.

But if they took too much of this out of Sylasʼ control, then he wouldnʼt be able to guarantee a top 10 place in the F-tier, let alone a top 10 place in the E-tier.

The moment he had the thought, he was proven correct.

”Half of your number will be eliminated in a single battle. A single warrior of your Sanctum will be chosen to represent you in this battle. Lose, and your Sanctum will lose the right to progress to the next round and be moved into a loserʼs bracket where the ranking will be decided from there.”

This sounded fine at first. A single person to decide the entire battle? If anything, this made it easier on Sylas... until the next words.

”This person will be chosen at random. If the average disciple of your Sanctum cannot claim this victory for you, are you worthy of your rank?”

A glow of light appeared beneath Sylas, and he, along with all of the F-tiers of the 073 Sanctum, were separated into bubbles of their own.

Slowly, these glowing spheres of light began to pulse, taking turns one by one. It was clearly rolling between all of them. The moment the pulse came to a stop, it would have decided on who would represent the entire Sanctum.

If they lost this battle, they would be relegated to a bottom 15 position. There would be no climbing out of 086th place.

It wasnʼt just Sylas who realized how bad this was instantly-the Warlord Heads of the 073 Sanctum all felt their hearts sink to rock bottom.

When they heard that they could decide this with a one-on-one battle, they all felt like it was a boon of a lifetime. So long as the others werenʼt too stubborn and just let Sylas fight, this would be easily decided.

Originally, they had been grooming Scarval for this. After having stayed in the F-tier for so long, they had high hopes for him. But none of them had expected the appearance of Sylas to make Scarval useless.

Yet, their hopes had been even higher as a result...

Only for all of that hope to come crashing down in a single go.

Sylasʼ own expression didnʼt change, but had he been another person, it would have certainly been quite ugly. However, those thoughts only lasted for the briefest of instances.

In the next moment, his eyes were already bouncing back and forth, trying to track the pulsing light as it surged through their numbers. There were tens of thousands of F- tiers, and these numbers were actually less than that of their number of E-tiers.

However, a one in several ten-thousand chance was unacceptable. There was no way he would get chosen. The odds were, quite literally, not in his favor.

He needed a way to change this, but unlike those spectating right now, he didnʼt have the chance to sit back and observe the lights first and understand how they worked or whether there was a chance to take advantage of them.

Removing the veil from his eyes, Sylasʼ Will flourished like a beacon. The ring of gold around his emerald irises grew brighter, but all this did was confirm what he already knew.

The Emperor Sanctum was entirely on another level. He wasnʼt lucky enough to be in some F-tier world right now. These Runes were casually constructed, but they were still beyond the C-Grade. They were at a level of complexity that Sylas couldnʼt even begin to understand.

Sylas was still struggling to use E-Grade Runes even with Primus Luminaria, let alone Runes above that, which Primus Luminaria didnʼt give him any sort of jurisdiction over at all.

There was no manipulating these Runes, and even staring at them like he was put him on the verge of rupturing his eyes.

Sylas had to take a step back, his eyes pulsing with radiant pain. He was running out of time. Although it was subtle, he could already feel the bouncing light slowing. It was about to choose.

It felt like he had so little time, and that was despite having already used his Progenitor Flame Talent to slow his perception of time as much as possible.

In reality, the pulsing light was going to make a decision within just three seconds. It wasnʼt nearly enough time.

”Him!” Authrioneʼs Aether became like a raging tide around him, becoming so thick it looked like black waters were taking form in the air.

”Hm? Whatʼs wrong with you, Authrione?”

A short man with bulging muscles and golden hair frowned by his side.

”Nothing,” Authrione said coldly, but his tight jaw told a completely different story. He almost couldnʼt believe that Sylas was from such a low-ranking Sanctum.

This was the worst possible outcome. If things happened like this, his chances at a rematch were near zero. He wasnʼt happy about what was happening in the slightest.

”Hoho,” Starell fluttered over, her pink little ankle wings flapping as she perked up to Authrioneʼs side. ”Is the one that beat you up in there? To think heʼd be from a bottom- 30 Sanctum. What happened to your shame, Little Authrione?”

BANG!

A strong surge of Aether nearly blasted Starell to pieces.

”Hey, hey, hey! Is this how you treat ladies?!”

Authrione wasnʼt even remotely in the mood for Starellʼs nonsense, his hooves

circulating with rampaging dark waters.

Sylasʼ eyes grew tired from following the bouncing light.

ʼThereʼs no solution.ʼ

Sylas reached out a hand, his eyes blazing with a light of madness.

Chi.

The pulsing light came to a stop.