Genetic Ascension

1593 Forfeit

Sylas took a deep breath, but it didn't seem to be enough. He looked down at his hand and somehow felt like it had tripled. Three sets of thumbs and twelve fingers floated out in an odd frequency of space, passing through reality as though both real and not.

He shook his head.

The effort of deciphering the Rhino Armor wasn't the problem. It would hardly take him much effort. He just hadn't done it in the past because he had no interest.

The real issue was slowing the activation of the formation. Fighting back against Runes that much stronger than himself wasn't something he should have done. It was a miracle he was standing at all.

Honestly, he couldn't recall the last time he had felt this weak.

[Maddened Enlightenment] was working in overdrive, his Will trying to quickly recover, but he had surprisingly reached a state he hadn't even known was possible. He was too tired to even focus.

Let alone the fact [Maddened Enlightenment] was far weaker if he wasn't in a state of meditation, he didn't believe he could meditate right now even if he wanted to.

His thoughts were slowing, and in a moment of hesitation, he wondered if he should just summon Nosphaleen to deal with this.

There was likely no individual existence who could threaten him here. But there were on the order of tens of millions here. On top of that, who knew what combination attacks they had practiced for this war?

If they were smart and realized just how tired he was, what was stopping them from sacrificing a large number of themselves to coordinate something that could actually harm him?

There were too many ways this could go wrong; summoning Nosphaleen was definitely the smartest choice if he was only considering this battle alone.

But let alone this battle here, there were still 70 other F-tier Sanctums, and the E-tiers of those very same Sanctums he had yet to battle.

Sylas closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the roaring auras.

After a moment, he shook his head and took a seat, his head growing heavy.

It was hard to put an exact number on the sheer number of people who were paying attention to Sylas right now. But there was something about his every action that just seemed... unbothered.

After he made a decision, there was really no need to waste time doubting himself. The number of times he had been wrong in his life were too few.

Since there was no better option, why should he waste his time?

So what if they knew about Nosphaleen.

What could they do about it?

As Sylas was about to lose consciousness, a golden glow appeared behind him. He pushed himself just one more time—just enough to form a connection with his Hibernation Realm and summon her.

At that moment, a beauty appeared with a wild flare.

Nosphaleen seemed to have returned to her roots. As a Mesmeryx, she could easily look however she pleased, and so, it was only natural she chose her Clypsian origins.

Her skin had returned to a delicate blue hue, scales lining her cheeks and dotting her forehead. Her hair remained white, but it was done up in gorgeous braids, lined with seashells that radiated shimmering colors of white, silver, and gold.

A skirt skin that looked formed of seal hide wrapped around her lower body, matching with a white band that contained her proud bust.

Hovering to her back, nine perfectly polished steel balls bobbed. As though there was no difference between herself and Sylas, she seamlessly took control of the Silver Morphic Bearings.

To the F-tiers of the bottom 30 Sanctums, she was little different from a Goddess, but her appearance was something that equally drew the attention of all those spectating, and Nosphaleen's Serpentes origins were almost entirely suppressed right now, so it was near impossible to tell that she was a beast at all.

"Master..." Nosphaleen said softly, pressing a hand to Sylas' back to make sure he didn't topple over.

Her gaze didn't seem very focused on the so-called geniuses of their Sanctums before her at all. The quantity didn't faze her in the slightest.

In fact, until now, they showed no signs of attacking. There were undoubtedly quiet discussions going on, while some were just hoping that someone else would take the charge.

However, slowly but surely, there was a hierarchy of command taking root, and the impossibly large group was quickly organizing themselves into a state where whatever attack they did launch would be undoubtedly lethal.

Even so, Nosphaleen didn't seem to notice. Her gaze was focused on Sylas, and it was only after she realized that he was only extremely tired and not injured that she relaxed a bit.

It was funny. She had definitely been paying attention to what was going on outside, but she had still wanted to make sure.

After a while, she finally focused her gaze on the sea of enemies before her. She scanned the line one by one, her Will wantonly checking their stats without the slightest care.

She raised an eyebrow.

'Weak.'

The best of them had stats in the few thousands. Even if they summoned their Armors, it wouldn't make the slightest bit of difference.

Nosphaleen didn't even need to move.

She raised her hand, and the morphic spheres became spinning disks. These were the very first weapons she had used when she first met Sylas. It had been a very long time since she had used them, but the training was ingrained into her very bones.

She clenched a fist, and the disks suddenly grew as much as five meters across...

And then they vanished in a veil of fog.

The sea of enemies didn't even get a chance to finish their plans. While screams began to fill the air, it had little to do with those that had already been bisected at their hips. They were long dead.

It was those cowering in despair in the back that realized their lives would also be forfeit.