Genetic Ascension

Chapter 2076: Single Strike

It didnʼt make any sense. The timelines werenʼt adding up.

Hundreds of millions of years had passed on Earth since the time of the First Race, but outside of the time warp that was Earth, there couldnʼt have been more than a few hundred years that passed at most-if that.

This was why Sylas was so sure that the wound of the loss of Earth would still be so fresh for the people of the First Race. Not much time should have been removed from when they left and what would be their return.

Could the First Race possibly be so great that in a single generation they managed to become so widely feared across the universe?

That didnʼt make any sense either. Because the First Race was targeted specifically because powerhouses didnʼt want them to rise up. What would have been the point of the targeting of Earth all this time if not for that?

Was it because Earth itself was the more valuable asset because of how perfectly it embodied both the paths of technology and the path the wider universe followed?

But if that was the case Sylas almost felt like he should have received more resistance in successfully helping Earth beyond the Summoning than he had.

It sounded ridiculous to say given what he had gone through, but the combination of the First Race potentially coming back and Earth falling into the wrong hands should have been unacceptable to their enemies.

There was

world where the First Race were in an odd Goldilocks zone now, one where the enemies that didnʼt want them to rise were quite high up and yet still beneath the Angels. In which case, the fact they managed to get in good with the Angels spared them from the harshest of endings.

But then in that case why had Earth still been targeted so heavily?

None of this made any sense.

If Sylas knew that the so-called Zeus Clan was an extremely ancient Clan from the Omnimousʼ perspective, he would have been even more confused.

Not only would that confirm that the timelines werenʼt adding up, he would begin to wonder how the First Race was pulling it off.

The obvious answer appeared to be two Clans of the same name. It wasnʼt impossible.

Though there were Gene Locks, and a name laden with such Will would certainly be subject to some restrictions, it wasnʼt impossible.

The trouble with that was that Sylas had felt the Will of the name just now. It was definitely referring to the First Race, or most accurately...

The Heaven Clan.

There was no mistaking the sort of complexities of Will it would take to embody a familyʼs name. If one said Grimblade, there was only one family they could think of right now.

Granted, Sylas was still weak in the grand scheme, so there was a chance that someone could take the name if they really wanted. But even that wouldnʼt be instant. It would take quite some build up.

For a Clan as ancient as the one the Omnimous had spoken of, it didnʼt even make sense for the First Race to have replaced them in just a generation and a half.

It didnʼt make sense.

The creature tilted its head like it was waiting for Sylas to finally attack. It was patient in ways something that was certainly supposed to be trying to take his life shouldnʼt have been. It was just sitting there, observing.

It was odd, Sylas didnʼt feel like he usually did when something so powerful was observing his every movement. Usually, it felt like something that came for his very soul, a worming feeling that etched itself into his bones only for long enough for it to break through down to his very marrow itself.

But there was none of that sickly feeling here. It was almost like the creature was observing him through another method entirely.

Sylasʼ eyes narrowed as he recalled the minefield room they had been in just before this round. There had been a third path toward success back then, one that relied on pure observational skills.

This thing... it was using that method. No, maybe this entire Dungeon was built on that very method.

What Sylas wanted to understand was just how it was gathering information if it was unearthing his secrets down to their deepest, darkest depths.

Sylas moved forward until he stood before the creature. Even when there was barely a foot separating them, the creature didnʼt show any signs of wanting to make a move. It just stood there, its hands still splayed out, its fingers still laced around its throwing daggers. There was a silence that hung, as though a communication between two beings that understood and saw the world through a different lens entirely.

And yet, Sylas was so very sure that this creature wasnʼt amongst the living. It was a computer incarnate. It took in inputs from the outside world and spit out an output. Depending on what it was given, the results could be so very different, and yet each one would undoubtedly be far more perfect than the last.

Yet, that was exactly why it hadnʼt moved. It only reacted to information was given. Which meant... it hadnʼt been given any information yet.

How it reacted would be entirely dependent on Sylas.

So, Sylas didnʼt raise a hand. Instead, he took a seat right in front of the creature, giving it the high ground without a change to his expression.

A creature that could endlessly adapt...

Sylas wasnʼt afraid of such a challenge. The problem was that the ceiling of this Dungeon was of the A-tier. No matter how confident he was in his own abilities, he wasnʼt a fool. Making this decision would mean that no matter how rapid he progressed, it would progress faster and have a much higher ceiling to reach.

It was an impossible enemy to win against...

Unless you did so in a single strike.