Genetic Ascension

Chapter 2347 Demon

Their eyes widened as the front of the warship continued to collapse around Sylas' feet, reinforced metal folding inward while fractured Runes flashed and died across the hull.

This was a vessel built to weather the storms between Heavens, forged from A-tier materials at the very worst and S-tier materials at its strongest points, with defensive formations layered over every critical section until even the void itself struggled to bite through. There was no world in which a single step from a man beneath Level 200 should have done this much damage.

Draeven Kiver's expression changed first.

His eyes flashed as the formation patterns running beneath the floor reflected through his pupils, and the answer hit him before the others could recover. "He turned the ship's formations against themselves, don't use Runes against him, attack with your full power and give him nothing else to work with."

There wasn't time to question how Sylas' Rune Mastery could possibly be broken enough to accomplish something like that with a glance and a step, because every second they spent thinking was another second he could build momentum.

None of them had expected Sylas to attack before they could initiate their own plan, and the entire purpose of approaching him with the warship had been to control the battlefield from the beginning. The harsh reality was that they had already lost that advantage.

PUCHI!

Sylas took another step.

A head flew into the air behind him.

One of the Kiver formations faltered instantly, and everyone connected to it coughed out blood as their resonance snapped back through the network like a broken string.

Draeven's eyes opened wide because there was one weakness in the Kiver bloodline that every elder drilled into them from childhood, a weakness they had spent generations learning how to conceal.

Every resonance formation needed a head.

Communing so many Wills at once required a central point that gathered, ordered, and redistributed the pressure across the others, and naturally the strongest Kiver would normally take that position. But that was far too obvious to be safe, so skilled Kiver learned to shift the center elsewhere, changing it multiple times even during combat until an enemy could no longer tell who truly held the formation together. Their greatest geniuses could make that transfer appear almost random.

Sylas had seen through it in a single glance.

The moment he killed the hidden center, the backlash struck everyone connected to that formation at once, their bloodline resonance turning from a source of strength into a weapon lodged inside their own bodies.

Draeven didn't even have time to identify what Sylas had looked at before Sylas raised his foot again, and when it came down, another Kiver's head exploded beneath an invisible pressure.

"DAMMIT!" Maelor roared. "MAXIMUM OUTPUT!"

His skin turned blood red as ancient markings crawled across his arms, chest, and face, glowing beneath the surface like veins filled with molten light. Every Kiver linked to him seized as though a hand had passed through their spines, their teeth grinding while they forced themselves to remain conscious beneath the violent increase in resonance.

Draeven reacted at the same instant, while Soren threw open every channel he possessed and began drawing away the excess pressure from both stronger men. Their three formations overlapped, feeding into one another until the power inside the ship climbed so quickly that the remaining walls began to vibrate. For the first time since stepping aboard, Sylas stopped.

"Where is the ship of your masters?"

The question caught them harder than any attack had.

Draeven's gaze flickered toward Maelor, while Soren's expression stiffened as all three understood exactly what Sylas meant. They had been sent ahead to scout the battlefield and deal with Sylas if an opportunity appeared, but they didn't know where the Vaelryn's main vessel had repositioned after entering the chaos.

Sylas watched the answer pass between their faces.

"I see."

His hands remained in his pockets.

"You can die, then."

Sylas stepped forward and appeared two feet from Soren before anyone could react, close enough that the C-tier Kiver saw the layered emerald Runes rotating inside his eyes.

Sylas' gaze flashed once, and Soren screamed as both eyes burst from their sockets, his Will pouring out of him in a wave before his body collapsed dead onto the floor.

The backlash tore through his entire formation.

Every Kiver connected to Soren convulsed once before dropping where they stood, some collapsing without a sound while others barely managed to choke out a breath. Maelor roared and broke away from his own formation, driving forward with a punch powerful enough to make the surrounding space buckle around his fist.

Sylas looked at it.

That was all.

One layer after another, the force behind Maelor's strike disappeared beneath Sylas' gaze, momentum stripped away, pressure unraveled, and the accumulated might of his bloodline resonance peeled apart until the attack that finally reached Sylas' chest landed with nothing more than a soft thud. Silence lasted for a fraction of a second before Maelor's arm exploded from fingertips to shoulder.

He crashed to his knees screaming.

He was a warrior who had lost flesh, blood, and bone before, yet the pain pouring through him now felt impossible to endure, as though even the smallest scrap of dignity he might have gathered beneath suffering was being stripped away with everything else.

Sylas continued walking without acknowledging that Maelor was kneeling in front of him, and when his knee brushed the man's shoulder, Maelor burst into a mist of blood.

The remaining members of his formation died with him.

Draeven trembled.

If he released his true A-tier power, the Heaven System would kill him, but if he continued restricting himself to the strength permitted here, Sylas would do it instead. He watched the remnants of Maelor's formation collapse around him and finally understood that the Vaelryn hadn't sent them after a talented Rune Master.

They had sent them after a demon.

CHI!

A jagged arc of black and emerald lightning erupted from Sylas' eyes before Draeven could make his choice. It ripped through the center of his chest, leaving a gaping hole behind as he looked down at himself with an expression that seemed twisted by the unfairness of it all.

Sylas walked past his falling body and looked out through the enormous wound he had carved into the ship.

His gaze remained cold.

His killing intent had truly been stoked this time.

Far away, in another corner of the battlefield, a familiar young woman slipped between broken stretches of the bridge with her presence pulled as low as she could manage. Elara Grimblade crept forward like a thief through the chaos, completely unaware that her elder brother was currently laying waste to entire Guilds on her behalf.