Genetic Ascension

Chapter 1893: Before my Pride (5)

The staffs clashed in the air.

A darkness radiated from Sylasʼ eyes, dark tendrils of fog peeling out from the sides.

As though reflecting his own, a radiant gold emitted from the Monkey Kingʼs, lines of gold that almost looked like freeze-framed lightning edging out from its corners.

They separated and then exploded forward, a furious combination of wild attacks shattering the mountain around them into smaller and smaller pieces until they danced on debris and clouds, fleeting currents of wind becoming no less solid than earth beneath the tips of their toes and the surge of their heels.

The Monkey Kingʼs staff extended and Sylasʼ head ducked out of the way, his own staff extending right at the Monkey Kingʼs knee. In response, the latter leapt upward.

Sylas attacked from below and the Monkey King attacked from above, the two of them using their staffs as pivot points to suddenly unleash a kick at one another.

The contact of their shins sparked like lightning, space fragmenting like glass.

BANG.

They retreated and then vanished. Echoing booms filled the air, every one of their contact points leaving trails of shattered space and reverberating spheres of exploding air.

Runes danced around Sylas, his Monkey King Armor and his Archon Casting combining into a symphony, an erratic dance of volatility and contradictory skill.

His swings were as heavy as moons and as sudden as solar flares, his skill increasing with every bit of understanding he snatched out from right under the Monkey Kingʼs nose.

And yet, even while he improved and the Monkey King seemed stagnant, the gap didnʼt seem to be closing at all.

The Monkey King met skill with chaos, his movements remaining just as unpredictable. It was enough to break a personʼs mind, as though no matter how much they improved, it would be meaningless.

It wasnʼt just a mountain you couldnʼt see the peak of; it was a black hole without a definable edge, an infinity beyond infinity. A truly infinite infinity.

Endless and all-consuming, and yet Sylas faced off against it with his feet firm and his eyes blazing.

A bloody grin spread across both of their faces, their cascade of violent combinations flowing from one to the next, and then into the next.

They moved so fast they left afterimages in the air, the light bending and twisting around them. At some point, it even began to feel as though three, four, even five of them were fighting at the same time, their clashes echoing so slowly compared to their movements that the world seemed to lag in its response.

Their palms swiftly slammed out in unison, each one bracing their staff against their hip and sinking down into a power stance. Their hips, knees, and thighs all formed a chain of power that erupted up from their feet.

Their roars formed currents in the air, the waves meeting and then clashing before canceling out in negative peaks and valleys of chaos.

A chip appeared in the Monkey Kingʼs arm as though a bit of reality was slipping away. But in kind, Sylasʼ armor wavered and nearly fell out of reality entirely.

BANG.

They both shot backward, the air exploding and flashing into flames with the speed of their movement. However, this only lasted the smallest instant before the flames were snuffed out and space swallowed them whole.

Shattered shards and glasslike fragments of space and time broke down the fundamental laws of combustion the flames relied upon, the E-tier world whining and groaning against their might as they barely managed to slow to a stop.

Sylas gasped out a breath, the violence in his eyes growing, but his bodily stamina weakening.

Across from him, chunks of the Monkey Kingʼs face began to fall away like a shattered porcelain doll. Rather than blood, one could see into a vast gold light that formed his core.

In unison, both of them slammed the butt of their staffs into the air as though it were solid ground, a ripple of reality and responding space forming waves that echoed into the surroundings.

They roared, their Pride clashing in the air like sparks of electricity and thundering booms.

Surging forward, their staffs slammed against one another. Both retained their own diagonally across their bodies, both of their hands gripping firmly along the polearms.

Their gazes clashed across their weapons, neither willing to give a single inch as veins popped across their forearms.

BANG.

Their foreheads slammed into one another, blood leaking down Sylasʼ, more chips appearing in the Monkey Kingʼs projection. And yet, even as Sylasʼ own skull began to fragment, they both still pulled back and slammed their foreheads together once more.

BANG. BANG.

The Monkey Kingʼs laughter filled the air as he kneed at Sylasʼ stomach, only to find a knee to match his own.

BANG. BANG. BANG.

Their polearms remained locked in battle, their legs and foreheads fighting their own war.

They mirrored each other, dancing in the skies in continuous explosions of rage and fiery Will.

The Monkey Kingʼs wrists suddenly twisted and his staff found an opening, slamming right above Sylasʼ hip and into his liver.

Sylasʼ armor shattered, looking as though a shark had taken a big bite out of its side. He coughed up a mouthful of blood and was sent flying back.

But he skidded to a stop on his toes, friction sliding against the air and leaving a trail of fire in his wake that danced in the current of the wind.

He huffed for breath, but he didnʼt move. That was because, across from him, the Monkey King looked like a fragile vase with countless cracks in it, mere moments away from shattering to pieces.

And yet, he was still laughing.

The cracks increased further, and then further beyond even that, racing across his skin as though he werenʼt formed of flesh and blood at all.

Then the world whined to a stop.

Just as the Monkey King was about to shatter to pieces, the gaze of his true self, seated upon a throne, flashed.

A sliver of Will descended and suddenly the Monkey Kingʼs damage was healed in an instant of time, as though he hadnʼt yet fought a single battle.