Genetic Ascension - Chapter 1653 FUCK!
Chapter 1653 FUCK!
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Elbrum’s aura flared, waves of amethyst coming off of him as though the burning flames of hell.
He had never been so infuriated in his lifetime, but there was no one to vent it all on. In fact…
He coughed up a mouthful of blood, his body flying back as he slammed against a barrier.
Because of Gralith’s actions, everyone had been sent back to the place of origin. This included Elbrum and the others, and while the teleportation distance for the branch Sanctums was significant, it was even worse for them.
If he was calm, restrained, and prepared, it wouldn’t be a problem. But this time, his temper had flared too much to be rational, his Scorpion Spirit Beast practically rampaging out of control as though a wild beast.
The pain snapped him back to reality. But it was a reality that he wanted no part of.
He lay sprawled on the floors of a grand hall. The ceilings were so tall they felt like a sky unto themselves, but they were painted in such bright gold rather than a sky it felt like he was staring right into the maw of a star.
The problem wasn’t the brightness of the room, though, it was the suffocating aura that descended just moments later.
A familiar hand caught Elbrum by the collar before he could regain his bearings, pulling him up to his feet. When he saw that pair of amethyst eyes, his gaze turned gloomy, but his attempt to speak came with a sputtering of blood instead.
“What have you done?”
If Sylas was there, he would have recognized the person by the voice alone. He was none other than the Emperor Scorpion, the very man who stole his Unique Gene for the sake of his son.
But now, he seemed to be wearing an expression Sylas wouldn’t recognize—one filled with fury.
Pedraeg didn’t know what happened, but what he was smart enough to understand was that Elbrum returning now, far earlier than he should have, and before they could successfully send someone over, was a terrible sign.
Before Elbrum could even answer, Emperor Pedraeg’s gaze landed on the Emperor Lizard and Dove. Their states were far less sorry than Elbrum’s, but they, too, seemed to be in a bit of a daze.
“Answer me,” he said coldly.
“It was completely out of our control,” Deacon suddenly spoke up on Elbrum’s behalf in a rare moment. “We don’t really understand what happened.”
“Explain what you do know,” Pedraeg said coldly.
The Emperor Lizard and Dove looked toward one another, the latter starting. The story was disjointed and as confused as they felt right this moment.
Pedraeg’s expression, though, was only becoming more and more solemn. As he listened, his face paled and greyed, becoming grave in a way that someone of his power should never have to experience.
‘Not good.’
The Young Master of the Purvon was using Sylas and had gained quite a bit.
However, Sylas used him too.
Pedraeg just barely understood what happened when the Emperor Sanctum shook.
The skies ruptured and a line of lightning that looked like a jagged cut in space tore through their worlds. It stretched across galaxies, but somehow looked like it was individually produced in every world present within their territory.
Powerful and unobstructed, it flashed and then disappeared as quickly as it appeared. But every one of them knew what it meant.
A System Link.
System Oaths, System Compulsions, System Contracts… they were all forms of System Links, each one divided into their own tiers. But each one was very clearly and decisively on a level below what had happened just now.
These three forms of System Links were all under the umbrella of a like-system. They originated from and were targeted toward others within the same system umbrella.
The reason that lightning looked like it had fragmented the world was because this was precisely what happened. This was what was called a True System Link, an action of one system acting upon another.
And the only existences with systems of their own were God Races.
The Emperor Sanctum had ended up on the bad side of a God Race, and these three fools didn’t understand the gravity of what they had just done yet.
Sylas sat on a stone, looking out into the world with a calm gaze. He looked like his mind was blank, but the number of plans being worked and reworked in his mind right now were uncountable.
There were too many paths forward, and for the first time in a long time, he didn’t know which path to take. However… He looked up, feeling a shudder run through the world.
“…It’s a deal, then,” Sylas said indifferently.
In a familiar room, a youth sat on a throne, a light smile on his face. He leaned a cheek onto a hand, swirling a finger in a glass of white wine that looked almost like pale gold beneath the flickering lights.
“It does feel good to deal with smart people, now doesn’t it?”
Several kneeling Demi-God Thryskai didn’t dare to say a single word.
“Now, do you want to tell me why it took a human boy not even a single year to accomplish something I’ve been asking of you all for decades already? Hm?”
There was an almost childish, joking tone to his words. He didn’t seem to care enough to punish them, but he certainly found it amusing.
When he didn’t receive a response, he didn’t seem to care much at all, leaning back and chuckling. Then he began to laugh uproariously before he stood.
The Demi-God Thryskai shuddered.
Seven years ago, this youth swore a System Oath. He said he wouldn’t rise from his throne until the path to Demi- Godhood was free and clear.
This man never said anything he didn’t mean, and never went back on his words.
If he was standing now, it meant the Purvon had guaranteed themselves the final seat of Demi-Godhood… and that left one question in all their minds: Just how powerful would their young master be as a Demi-God?
