Genetic Ascension

Chapter 1831: Chicken and Rice



Chapter 1831: Chicken and Rice



Elara leapt into Sylas, wrapping her arms around his head and pinning down his arms with her legs.


"You're getting too old for this," Sylas said calmly.


"Shut up and accept my love. I've been bored to death. When are you going to take me to see the uni-holy, is that a centaur?!"


Elara's body flickered and she seemed to phase right through Sylas, causing him to raise an eyebrow. But by the time he had turned around, she was already on Old Brama's back.


Old Brama was a bit speechless, but at this point a lot of his former edge had been shaved away. It was hard losing to a kid like Sylas again and again, and it was even harder to pretend as though nothing had changed because of it.


"Elara, get down. Now. Leave the poor man alone," Isolde's voice came from deep within the City Lord's mansion, and Elara's response was quick acceptance followed by a glare right at Sylas.


"Don't give me that look," Elara growled at Sylas' raised eyebrow. "This is all your fault. You went and made Mom superhuman, now I can't get away with anything anymore. I have no privacy!"


Sylas finally understood and his lips quirked just the slightest bit. He hadn't done much but strengthen the Grimblade Bloodline, but there would obviously be many downstream effects from that.


Honestly, there were probably quite a few that had benefited from it. Anyone with any modicum of Grimblade blood had, certainly.


From Sylas' understanding, anyone who could have formed the Grimblade Gene Talent-even in a corrupted, mutated form-had been pulled under the umbrella of benefits. So there were at least hundreds of Grimblades running around on Earth right now with substantially more strength and power than everyone else.


They had no competition whatsoever.


Logically, Sylas should probably try to rein that in somewhat. But he didn't do that for the same reason he had never tried to bring all the powers of Earth under a single umbrella... It was a waste of his time.


The power he had as a Progenitor, not to mention the gap in power between those of Earth versus the rest of the universe, was so vast that it would have been ineffectual for him to spend any time whatsoever on this matter.


Sylas had no ambition to be some great ruler either. The only reason he was even building a City in the first place was because it was the most convenient City he could ever build.


Plus, particularly soon, he was going to need an engine to fund his progress. He needed resources, treasures, and people to process and make use of his wealth.


The people of Earth were far too weak.


The spawns of Sky Roaming were a different matter entirely.


And the members of the Golden Race-they existed as a very curious experiment that had consumed a great deal of his attention now.


Something told him the Golden Race Ancestors had likely devised a way to combine the Demon Bloodlines with themselves, but they hadn't been able to effectively pass on that knowledge through anything other than clues.


The battle they fought was in one part a sacrifice to allow the mistakes of their future generations, but on the other hand... it might have very well been a punishment for even having thoughts of becoming Demons in the first place.


Only time would tell the truth, but they were certainly a far better use of Sylas' time now.


Isolde came walking out soon after, wiping her hands on her apron. She placed both palms firmly on the sides of Sylas' face and then she smiled brightly.


"Come. I've made your favorite."


Old Brama blinked. Sylas didn't seem like the sort to have a favorite food.


When he saw what the meal was, though, Old Brama's lip couldn't help but twitch.


Plain rice. Broccoli. Boiled eggs. Grilled chicken breast.


If Old Brama didn't know better, he would have thought it was prison food. What the hell was he looking at right now?


It wasn't as though he had much experience with Earth's culinary scene. But as a well-learned individual, he knew bland food when he saw it.


He could also see that it certainly wasn't Isolde's inability to cook causing this, because Elara was digging into a plate stacked tall with ribs, baked macaroni, and a side of... cheesecake? Was she going to eat all of that?


"Thank you," Sylas spoke up.


"Of course." Isolde's smile brightened. "Your father and grandfather are still out and about, pretending as though they're much younger than they are. So it's mostly me, Elara, and Geraldene these days."


"Because you keep me locked in here!" Elara spoke out from behind a pile of food.


"When you are an adult, you can do as you please. For now, we have company. Manners, young lady."


Elara grumbled and Isolde shifted to Old Brama with a smile.


"I wasn't expecting company. Is there something you'd like to eat in specific? I'm not familiar with your Race of people, so forgive me if there's something that you want that I do not have on hand."


Sylas tuned out the conversation, his first bite confirming his suspicions.


Rice, boiled eggs, grilled chicken breast, and broccoli really was his favorite meal. He just liked broccoli in general. Grilling the chicken breast gave it flavor it usually didn't have, and he also loved eggs and rice.


This combination, though, was mostly because it was a somewhat balanced meal that was especially high in protein. He had dialed in his diet perfectly back before the Summoning.


For obvious reasons, though, he hadn't continued to eat this meal after the Summoning. Earth food wasn't enough to satiate him, so it was a waste to consider it, and he didn't have the time to dial in the millions of food combinations that had just opened up to him.


His mother seemed to have had a lot of time on her hands, though. Not only was this delicious... but it was the most nutrient-dense food Sylas had ever had.


He had been to so many places by now. How was that possible?



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