Genetic Ascension

Chapter 1688 70%

Sylas was about to speak when he suddenly frowned. His head turned in a certain direction.

In the sea of people, there was an inconspicuous old man who moved forward. No one sounded to notice his presence, not because he was invisible to the naked eye, but instead because he seemed just like anyone else in the densely populated lobby.

He flicked a sleeve, long robes moving along with his gait as though the tides of a raging river. There was something calm and calculated about his movements that somehow also felt so wild and free at the same time.

For a moment, even Sylas didn't know why this man had caught his attention. Sure, he could see the slightest slit in his forehead, making it quite obvious that he was a Thryskai, but Sylas had seen plenty of Thryskai by now, and he also wasn't foolish enough or in such little control of his emotions that he would attack one on sight—especially when this one was clearly so mind-numbingly powerful.

No, there was another reason.

This man... Sylas' new eyes could pick up quite a bit. He was still adjusting and getting used to it, but even if many things were blurry, there was quite a great deal of things he could pick up nonetheless, even from Malikhi.

But this man...

He was as vacant as a black hole.

When he saw Sylas look at him, he actually smiled. He continued walking normally, and yet in another breath of time, he was already standing before Sylas as though he had been there the entire time.

A Mortal Thryskai...?

For a moment, Sylas couldn't help but wonder if this was the mysterious member of the Purvon Clan. He had never met that person before, nor had he ever felt their Will clearly. Even if he was standing right in front of Sylas right this moment, Sylas wouldn't have had any method of knowing that was the case.

Yet, Sylas couldn't help but feel that this assumption would be wrong.

This man was unfathomable, carrying depths that Sylas couldn't even begin to see through. Of course, he was nothing close to that ceiling Sylas had sensed not long ago, but he was certainly someone that could kill Sylas with a thought. To say that it would take a finger would be nothing more than an insult to this man.

But he wasn't the sort of person Sylas felt was capable of outsmarting him. That was a completely different category of things.

There were plenty of people stronger than him.

There were only a few comparable to him in intelligence.

The man's smile only deepened under Sylas' scrutiny.

"You don't seem to like me?" he asked.

Sylas' gaze flickered. He didn't show any displeasure on his face, and his Will was extremely controlled, yet this man still picked up on it.

"The Thryskai like to overextend their reach."

The man's smile became a grin. "The use of the word overextension seems to imply that we are reaching beyond our means."

"And sometimes that is the case."

The man erupted into booming laughter, his black hair dancing as wildly as his robes.

The more Sylas tried to stare at said robes, the more blurred his vision seemed to become. They were a gorgeous brown, embroidered in warm velvety violet. Whichever Seamstress had put it together had done an exceptional job. Even the simplest patterns on it had to be of the A-tier.

Sylas was so distracted that it was only then he realized something more shocking.

The world around them had completely frozen in time.

"I had wondered who my young master would have such a high opinion of. Meeting you in person, I can see why he would. I really should kill you right here and now so that you won't have time to grow any further. But if I do so, my young master would be very cross with me.

"He only has so few in this small world that he can play with. Unfortunately for my old bones, I'm not a useful enough pawn for him. You, however... you are. I truly must thank you."

Sylas' eyes narrowed as the Thryskai bowed deeply toward him. There was a shocking amount of sincerity in his tone. He both truly meant that he would have preferred to kill Sylas, and yet he was likewise very thankful.

Thanks to Sylas, their Purvon had a clear path to Demi-Godhood. How could he not be thankful?

Maybe in the future, this choice to leave Sylas alive might give them a path to true Godhood. There was nothing this Purvon Thryskai wanted to see more than for his young master to find more opponents.

The loneliest thing in the world wasn't being alone, but instead being surrounded by people you could never see as your equal.

How boring was such a life?

The Thryskai stood to his full height, smoothing out his robes and smiling once more.

"You've done a great feat here, I'm impressed. The guild will give you a great amount of attention now, but I'm sure you know the ways of the world by now. You don't share blood with any of the seven Clans. The resistance you face will only be greater from here on, even if you are a Legacy Disciple. I can tell you something in exchange for the service you've done to my young master-"

"If you mean to tell me about Fanelei's origins, there is no need."

The Thryskai blinked, and this time it was his eyes that narrowed.

"It seems that I have still underestimated you." He relaxed and then chuckled once more. "I guess repaying such a debt won't be so straightforward, hm?"

"Actually, it won't be too difficult. I need to leave this place in two weeks. I have a plan already, but it only has a 70% chance of success. I'd prefer it to be 100%."

The laughter of the Thryskai returned. Only someone his young master saw as an equal could possibly say they'd have a 70% chance of escaping a place like this under a Legend's supervision.