Genetic Ascension - Chapter 1864 Improvements

Chapter 1864: Improvements

Sylas’ gaze sharpened when he stepped outside of the teleportation channel.

There was a familiar old man to the side. But across from him, there wasn’t just one individual. Instead, there were three.

He had already expected to come across Fanelei―he had called her here. However, it seemed that her freedom in the Analei wasn’t as great as it had once been.

To her side, there were two older individuals. But there was only one that Sylas was looking at.

To call this man old was a severe understatement. It looked like his wrinkles had wrinkles, his skin filled with so many age spots it almost looked as though his skin tone itself had changed.

The bags around his eyes were especially severe, so heavy and loose they covered the milky white of his irises almost entirely.

And yet, standing there, despite having the smallest stature and the least momentum, Sylas couldn’t take his eyes off of him.

“Sylas-“

Sylas ignored Fanelei, his gaze still entirely focused on the old man. Every part of his body was pulled taut to an absolute extreme, and yet one would never guess by the look on his expression.

And then, suddenly, Sylas relaxed. He looked away from the old man and toward Fanelei.

“Did you say something?”

Fanelei looked like she was trying to convey something without saying it, and Sylas had a pretty good guess as to what that was.

It would be bad for the both of them if the other Ancestors of the Analei knew that Sylas was able to directly control Fanelei-or the fact that that was effectively the case, if not literally.

Right now, the Analei were under the impression that Sylas was the chosen disciple of Fanelei and they had a great relationship. This was the only reason why they were so alright with what was going on, even though Sylas’ actions had put them in a great amount of danger.

But there was an obvious elephant in the room.

The Karma that Sylas had bet on went to the Emperor Sanctum instead. So, the Weaver Guild essentially went from panicking about how they would deal with the fallout of becoming newly in line as Demi-Gods, to having the rug pulled out from under them.

They technically hadn’t lost much, if anything at all. And, to top it off, Sylas had crippled one of their longest- running enemies not only by killing their Cryst Emperor rising star, but also by snatching so much of their Karma.

But it still wasn’t a good feeling nonetheless.

Fanelei was hoping that Sylas understood all of these intricacies and nuances. She knew that he was smart enough. The problem was that he was also unpredictable.

“I said, come and greet my Ancestor,” Fanelei feigned calm. “This is Ancestor Nobel Analei. He has the highest level of seniority in our Analei Clan and is a man that I respect deeply.”

“I’ve greeted him,” Sylas said calmly.

Fanelei suddenly wanted to ram her head against a wall. Was staring at a man considered greeting?

Also, Sylas was still standing on the teleportation platform and was technically standing above them. It was the pinnacle of rudeness.

Nobel chuckled, though. “Ah… the young and talented have always been arrogant. It’s nice to see that nothing has changed.”

“Master, this is unacceptable.”

The third of them expressed coldly and even shot a dagger-like gaze toward Analei.

Nobel only chuckled, waving a wrinkled hand. “No, no. I’ve wanted to see him personally, so I came. If I wanted to be so arrogant as well, wouldn’t I have had him come to me? You must be better than the children, especially when it seems that the children are better than you are.”

Akshat, the third of the Ancestors currently present, looked toward his master in shock. What did he mean Sylas was better than him? In what exactly? No matter how talented he was, he was just an E-tier.

“Tell me, Sylas Grimblade… you seem quite confident right now. Why is that? Is it because we stand in The Void?”

Sylas’ eyes narrowed.

This teleportation room was, indeed, identical to the one he had originally come to this place in. Outside of the teleportation platform, there was little else but a sea of endless black.

“I see that you’ve comprehended something I’ve tried my whole life to. But you also see, young man… who do you think built this place?”

Nobel laughed again, but this time it sounded much more like a cackle, as though an old man a little too enamored by his own joke. The only thing he didn’t do was slap his knee, but he seemed a moment away from doing exactly that when he groaned and touched his back instead.

“Ai, these old bones are really getting to be a problem. Ai, to be young again, to be young again.”

Sylas nodded, but then he raised a finger.

The old man’s laughter came to an abrupt halt. He could see Sylas-he was right there. But he couldn’t feel Sylas.

BANG.

Nobel’s eyes opened wide, the folds of his loose, wrinkled skin using muscles they hadn’t in years. The murky whiteness of his irises flashed with life, the depths of his Runeweaver Eyes trying to peer into the secrets of the universe.

It was useless.

He couldn’t see it.

And then Sylas vanished.

When Sylas appeared again, he was standing over the hunched posture of the old man, standing so tall the latter had to look up at him.

The silence came across to stretch into infinity, and the darkness even further. The old man didn’t laugh or smile; his expression had become entirely unreadable, as though he had become a completely different person.

Sylas, however, was just the same. Unbothered by it all.

The chaos of the world was his opportunity. Surrounded by enemies from all sides, but finally starting to gain the strength to protect himself… It was about time he let loose a bit.

“You created it?” Sylas nodded again. “It could use some improvements.”