Genetic Ascension

Chapter 1369: Again

The world spun around Sylas as he collapsed. He couldn’t seem to see anything, and though his mind was finally released to control the rest of his body, it was so fatigued that it couldn’t even seem to do that efficiently.

He hacked up mouthfuls of blood that were so solid it almost looked as though he was vomiting up clumps of it, his body shaking from head to toe.

Sylas hacked and wheezed, his image of perfection tarnished, but to many, it didn’t matter in the slightest.

He was the undisputed King of F-tier Rune Masters. He was untouchable in this generation, the past generations, and likely the next generations so long as he lived.

There had never been a person in this Sector to accomplish what he had, and to do so on such a stage.

However, the man of the hour couldn’t seem to even stand properly at the moment.

The elder, high in the skies, had a flicker in his eyes, one that he couldn’t quite control even if he had wanted to. He was about to make a move to end the round and begin the next E-tier stage when he received word of something.

He froze and then lowered the hand he was just about to raise.

...

Cassarae clenched her fists, her blue eyes practically glowing with flickering flames.

Seeing all of the cameras focusing on Sylas’ wilting form—if she could have spit fire, she would have.

People were far too susceptible to subtle influences, and the masses were fools. Too many could have their opinions swayed by things as meaningless as optics and whoever sounded and looked nicer or better.

By the end of this, maybe what these people would remember most wouldn’t be the first Spark Master’s birth, but instead the young man hacking and wheezing after barely pulling himself across the finish line... all after being so very arrogant.

On Earth, they would probably be heading a meme bot machine right this moment to run him into the ground, tarnishing his image with meaningless quotes and funny hashtags.

In this Sector, while there was nothing as crude as social media, what they did have was countless times more effective—and the godlike ability to influence the Wills of the masses.

However, the longer Sylas remained on the ground like that, catching his breath, the calmer Cassarae seemed to grow.

She didn’t know why, but somehow her emotions were on an inverted bell curve. Her confidence had started off high, plummeting the more she saw the images, but the longer Sylas seemed unable to gather himself and reverse the situation...

The more confident in him she grew.

The seconds ticked by into minutes.

Vaernon broke the silence.

"It seems reaching Spark Mastery isn’t so easy, huh?" he chuckled.

Cassarae didn’t respond, but she didn’t have to. There were plenty of Thryskai at his beck and call that would fill in the gaps for him.

"Even a man being cut down on the battlefield shouldn’t look so pitiful. At least stand and face your death. But he’s hacking and wheezing like he lost his heart in there," Magnus scoffed, finding it ridiculous. "Talented but lacking in the slightest bit of willpower. I don’t know if you could possibly expect him to make it very far with that sort of attitude."

Cassarae still didn’t say a word.

These comments were only a microcosm. None of these Thryskai were stupid enough to actually believe their words, but they didn’t need to.

They just needed the public to be stupid enough to believe them, and the public would almost certainly always be stupid enough to hop on whatever wave sounded the best at a given time.

Cassarae and her little group were probably the only piece of the Petals of the Seeing Thorn that were on Sylas’ side at all, and that choice could very well cost them their lives very soon.

To have the most powerful information network at their beck and call would be more than enough to allow a complete flip in public sentiment. The voices of logic and reason would be far too buried beneath all the noise.

...

"Looks like it’s about time," Old Brama said, looking at the screen.

"Are we sure about this?" Jala frowned. "We’ve already made so much money—more money than Sylas could possibly use. Doing this—"

"Boy, do as you’re told. Has anyone ever told you that you speak too much nonsense?" Brama asked.

Jala’s breath hitched and he eventually clenched his teeth.

"Also, this wealth might be great, even on the scale of the Sector. But if you believe that this is enough to reach the levels that boy is aiming for, you’re sorely—very sorely—mistaken. Your sights are set too low."

"Done!" Alex practically chirped from the side.

Jala glared over at him. He hadn’t taken his words seriously at all. The moment Brama spoke, Alex had already taken action as though Jala’s words were nothing more than air.

Alex put up his hands as though he had been caught red-handed.

"Just sit back and watch the show, alright, sport?"

...

Cassarae took a breath and her chest’s heaves finally became even again. Then, she looked toward Megean.

"Again."

Megean practically jumped out of her skin.

"What do you mean... again?"

"You know exactly what I mean by ’again.’ Go and do it."

"He can’t possibly—"

"Again."

Cassarae’s sword trembled in its sheath, lines of a sharp Aether radiating through the air and slicing thin strands of Megean’s hair—not lengthwise, but instead along its width.

It felt like in an instant of time, the number of strands of hair Megean had doubled.

Taking a shaky breath, Megean just nodded before her eyes glazed over. Her earrings unfolded into a mechanical monocle, and a series of Runes and words flew by so fast they looked more like green blurs than something anyone could read.

"Done."

Cassarae had already looked away, watching the screen as Sylas finally regained enough control over himself to stand... slowly, but surely.