Genetic Ascension

Chapter 2342 Ancient Clan

Xiburn raised an eyebrow at Vaelithʼs warning, a smirk slowly pulling at one side of his mouth as he studied her profile. It seemed she really did hold this Sylas Grimblade in unusually high regard, but considering everything they had learned over the past several days, Xiburn couldnʼt fault her too much for it.

By now, there were very few among the upper echelons who didnʼt suspect that Sylas was the reason the Heavens Clash had erupted in the first place, which left Xiburn wondering exactly how one man had managed to infuriate a God to this extent and somehow still be alive.

”Maybe he isnʼt here because heʼs already dead.”

Vaelithʼs expression remained calm as the unfinished bridge between Heavens flickered below them, countless battles already raging along its unstable stretches.

”If he were dead, the Ancestor of Creation position would have been vacated.”

Xiburn chuckled and leaned against the railing beside her. ”Or perhaps the God responsible is keeping the position occupied because it benefits him. Opportunities to steal Karma from an entire Heaven donʼt appear often, and if heʼs already manipulating the system this much, why stop there?”

Vaelithʼs eyes narrowed slightly, though she didnʼt bother arguing further because the possibility couldnʼt be dismissed. The stronger the Clans and individuals involved became, the more fragile the impotent system seemed to manipulation, its rules becoming less like immovable laws and more like restrictions that could be bent if one possessed enough influence.

The fact Vaelith herself stood here despite technically being B-tier was already proof enough of that.

Xiburn pushed away from the railing and stepped onto the warshipʼs banister, his dark hair lifting beneath the violent winds rushing up from the half-formed bridge.

He raised one hand, and a massive halberd appeared within his grasp, its long shaft covered in old markings while the broad blade carried enough weight that the entire front of the warship suddenly dipped.

Crew members stumbled as the vessel groaned beneath the unexpected pressure, its stabilizing Runes flashing to compensate.

Vaelith frowned and turned toward him, but Xiburn had already bent his knees.

The deck exploded beneath his feet as he launched himself forward, the warship pitching backward before its formations caught it and forced it level again. Xiburn dropped toward the battlefield with his wings opening behind him, halberd resting casually across one shoulder while his laughter rolled back through the air.

”Donʼt worry, ice princess. Iʼll bring his head back for you so you can stop wasting time.”

Vaelith watched him disappear into the chaos without answering.

**

Kaeloth Vaelryn stood near the edge of another warship, his arms folded as he stared toward the incomplete bridge ahead. Beside him stood his younger brother Kairen, the same man whose attempted marriage to Elara Grimblade had ended in humiliation, though neither brother seemed particularly interested in discussing that matter now.

Their attention remained fixed on the endless streams of warriors crossing into the battlefield.

”He still hasnʼt appeared,” Kairen muttered.

Kaelothʼs third eye slit tightened. ”I noticed.”

”Maybe he really is dead.”

”Heʼs not.”

The voice came from behind them, and both brothers turned as Wrenlow approached, his pink hair stirring gently despite the violent currents surrounding the ship. He looked almost perfectly human at first glance, but the small pink wings extending from his ankles marked a bloodline that neither Vaelryn brother would ever mistake for ordinary.

Kaeloth frowned. ”You sound certain.”

”I am.”

Kairenʼs brows furrowed. ”You met him once, the same as my brother. Why would you know anything more than we do?”

Wrenlow stopped beside them and looked toward the battlefield, his pink eyes carrying none of their uncertainty. ”Because Sylas Grimblade is more arrogant than either of you understands, and someone like him would never hide from something like this.”

Kaelothʼs expression hardened, but before he could respond, Wrenlow continued.

”My Ancient Clan sent me information about him around a week ago.”

Both brothers went still.

They knew Wrenlowʼs origins were unusual even among the greatest geniuses of the Skai Heaven, and they knew enough about the wings on his ankles to understand what sort of Ancient Clan he was referring to. His bloodline connected upward toward the Angels themselves, which immediately made the existence of a report on Sylas far more significant than either had expected.

”What does Sylas Grimblade have to do with the Angels?” Kaeloth asked.

Wrenlowʼs jaw tightened. ”He beat one of our descendants.”

Kairen frowned. ”Then why isnʼt he dead already?”

”On the Mortal Plane,” Wrenlow added.

The silence between them changed.

Wrenlowʼs eyes remained fixed ahead as he continued. ”They attempted to punish him afterward, or at least that was the intention. Instead, he slaughtered the Angels they sent and declared that from then on, he would kill every Angel he saw.”

Kaelothʼs pupils constricted, while Kairenʼs expression shifted from disbelief to something far more cautious. A Mortal making such a declaration would already have been absurd, but surviving long enough afterward for his name to reach an Ancient Clan on the higher Planes made it something else entirely.

Wrenlowʼs hands slowly curled into fists.

”The first time we met, he looked at me and didnʼt react at all. He knew there was something unusual about my bloodline, but he didnʼt attack me, and considering what I know now, thereʼs only one reason for that.”

Frustration burned brighter in his pink eyes as his ankle wings twitched.

”He didnʼt consider me a real Angel.”

The humiliation from the Creation Tower returned with that thought, especially because there had been nothing Wrenlow could do about it there. Rune Mastery was all that mattered within that world, and Sylas had beaten him beneath those restrictions before walking away as though Wrenlow wasnʼt worth another glance.

Out here, things were different.

Wrenlow looked down toward the chaos beneath the bridge, his expression settling into something colder as power slowly gathered around him. This time he had everything the Creation Tower had stripped away from him, and more importantly, the Ancient Clan behind his bloodline now had its own reason to care about Sylas Grimblade, and that came with opportunities.

”Heʼll come,” Wrenlow said, his gaze remaining on the battlefield. ”And when he does, Iʼll make sure he understands what it means to stand opposed to the Angels.”