Genetic Ascension

Chapter 1502 Arrogance

Sylas didnʼt reply, his Will blooming. His skin practically began to glow as though it were its own emerald gem, sparks of lightning spontaneously forming in bolts and waves.

He slowly loosened his grip over his own wrist, and he clenched a fist.

The punch that followed seemed to move the world itself.

BANG. BANG. BANG.

One iteration after another was shattered to pieces, and the True Sloth Disciples pupils constricted into pinholes. How—?

The punch landed on his chest.

The time between the fist landing and the True Sloth Disciple feeling his back against the wall wasnʼt even a split second. It almost felt as though they had happened at the exact same time.

His cloak was peeled off, revealing the face of a man who would have been extraordinarily handsome if not for how unkempt he was.

A streak of dried snot came out from one nostril, his eyes practically encrusted with sleep. His lips were cracked as though they hadnʼt experienced moisture in a lifetime, and his face was gaunt as though he was too lazy even to eat and feed himself properly. He coughed, groaning slightly. But the groan didnʼt seem to be one of pain; it was instead a groan like a teen being woken up at 6 a.m. for school.

He had really wanted this to be easy. No part of him understood why Sylas was so insistent on being such a pain.

Grunting, he pulled himself up.

”How did you do that?” he complained. If Sylas killed his iterations before he could use them, it meant his real body was going to have to act. He didnʼt like that at all.

Sylas once again didnʼt reply.

”I also heard that about you Pride Disciples. Though, Iʼm guessing that right about now, theyʼre all pretty pissed off. You came out of nowhere and destroyed all of their Paths in a single go. I bet theyʼre probably hunting you right now. No wonder youʼre so obsessed with getting what you can here. I donʼt blame you. If I had those assholes on my tail, Iʼd probably be a bit antsy 00.”

Sylas only stared at him, and the True Sloth Disciple held his hands up.

”Right, right. Fragile ego. Youʼre not antsy at all. Apologies, apologies. What was my mouth thinking, running like that?”

The True Sloth Disciple stood to his feet and patted his robes down.

”Tell you what. So long as you let me get that Sealwright Profession, you can have everything else. Hm? How about it? Do you even have space for another Profession? I know for a fact you have at least one. That Weaver Guild is probably looking for you too, now that I think about it.”

Sylasʼ eyes narrowed, his expression changing the slightest bit for the first time.

This True Sloth Disciple recognized his Runeweaver Profession.

”Oh, you donʼt know about them. How fascinating. Howʼd you end up with the Profession, then? That probably means that one of their own gave it to you willingly, and thatʼs probably more troublesome than if you stole it. Those people like messing around with Karma a lot. I could give you information about them if you agree to my deal. How about it?”

The True Sloth Disciple blinked expectantly, clearly hoping Sylas would agree so that he wouldnʼt have to fight.

Seeing that Sylas still wasnʼt replying, though, he could only sigh.

”I really donʼt understand. You can feel the difference. Thatʼs why youʼre not attacking right now and listening to me ramble instead. You want me to attack first so you can try to find a way to exploit a weakness. What is the point of struggling if you already know the end result?”

“I do know the end result.”

Sylas finally spoke.

“In that case—”

”Your death.”

The True Sloth Disciple groaned again, but a fist had already slammed into his gut once again.

Coughing, spittle flew from the Slothʼs mouth, and he crashed into the wall again.

”What did I do to deserve this?” he grumbled, grabbing at his stomach. This time, he had to admit... it hurt... a lot.

It seemed that Sylas had held back the first time, and it seemed that he was holding back even now.

Was it Pride?

Typical.

As expected of a fool of the Pride Path. Just because the Sloth wasnʼt taking it seriously, Sylas didnʼt want to take it seriously either.

Unfortunately for the Sloth, he was very much incorrect about Sylas. Sylas was no normal disciple of the Pride Path.

If he had an opportunity to kill the Sloth right here and now, he would take it. As for the fact the Sloth wasnʼt taking things seriously—what did that have to do with him?

To Sylas, this young manʼs death was inevitable. Who cared if it was after a long, drawn- out fight, or immediate?

The real reason Sylas was holding back wasnʼt something the Sloth was privy to, and he didnʼt have to be privy to it either.

”Fine...” the Sloth grumbled again, slowly picking himself up once more. ”If you want to fight, letʼs fight.”

The eyes of the Sloth became a bit dull, his shoulders slouching and his feet dragging along the ground.

CLANG.

In one moment, he seemed no different from a normal human, and in the next, his skin began to sag, flames of silvery-grey forming in his eye sockets in place of eyes, as his nails grew to claws that dragged across the cast iron of the room... Leaving deep grooves in it with a casual swipe.

”Donʼt say that I didnʼt warn you...” he grumbled again.

His body swayed, and he seemed to move and yet remain in place at the same time. In a flash, Sylas found his claws already nearing his chest.

BANG.

Another fist landed in the same spot on his chest, sending the Sloth flying once again.

“I would advise you try another method. If you insist on trying to bend reality around me, we can end this right here and now.”

Sylas raised a hand, his rises flickering with an emerald tesseract.