Genetic Ascension

Chapter 1227: Sixty-One? Or Three?

“Well, this isn’t any fun, now is it?” the Duchess’ father smiled. “Also, I believe I said that Ebison would need to defeat you within 100 moves. I don’t think I said anything about your number of moves.”

“If you’re so eager to kill me, then just do it. You’re as childish as your daughter,” Sylas said indifferently.

“Father!” the Duchess’ words were cut short as she registered what Sylas had said, then her face flushed with exasperation. Did this man have the ability to control his mouth?!

She didn’t even seem to realize that she wasn’t all that angry about Sylas insulting her too—just annoyed.

However, the only response they both gained was laughter. The Duchess’ father laughed uproariously—not a cold sort of laugh, but instead a true belly laughter.

“I’d do a better job of protecting your life if I were you. Looks like he’s waking up,” he finally said.

Sylas had never looked away from Ebison to begin with—not that he could move right now. The lock on his blood was particularly strong. He didn’t need his input to know that.

At first, Ebison was in a daze, not quite knowing where he was at all until he snapped out of it, realizing that there was a shadow looming overhead.

He didn’t understand why Sylas was just standing there, but he didn’t need to be told twice to erupt in a twisting rage of flames.

His body vanished in the twisting cyclone, appearing ten meters away and heaving almost breathlessly.

“Two.” The sneering voice of the Duchess’ father rang out. As for his meaning, it was obvious to anyone.

The power holding Sylas’ body down finally vanished, but it was too late to dodge the cyclone of fire. It was just an escape technique, one that seemed to turn Ebison into a quasi-Fire Sylph for a moment as he crossed a distance instantly. But fire was fire, and when it came from an E-tier existence, it almost burnt Sylas alive.

Pain shredded into Sylas’ skin, layers of him peeling off as he finally managed to leap away. His clothing was scorched off—soot, reddened, boiling skin, and charred flesh becoming the new wave of substance that covered him.

Ebison was still somewhat disoriented, but when he saw this, his vision cleared a little bit more, then a little bit more after that.

His body focused, and he realized what he had to do. He wasn’t taking this lightly anymore.

A pitchfork appeared in his hand and he raked it across the air, accumulating flames almost as though he were passing a trident across the ocean.

Seas of fire took shape, forming various javelins and arrows in the air that bolted forward with menacing, sizzling heat. They whistled through the air not just because of their speed, but because of the water vapor quickly becoming a steaming mess that coated the hall.

Sylas’ body trembled out of his control, the pain sinking deep into his body.

He quickly used his Will to suppress it, his palm waving out.

A Blazara was caught off guard, the body flying out and into Sylas’ palm. It was a mere bottom feeder of a Level 51—probably the weakest Blazara present.

No one would have thought that Sylas would do something like this, and they expected him to rip out his neck with his teeth even less.

**\[Primal Gut]** churned and energy pulsed into Sylas’ body, dulling the pain.

Before even finishing the rest of it, he threw the Blazara up, slamming out a palm toward his back that shattered him into a rain of fire and bone.

**Aetherborne Will** took shape, wielding the bones in an onslaught that countered the projectiles, all while the blood was sucked into Sylas’ body.

**BADUM! BADUM!**

Sylas had realized something when he was near the table of the Sanguara. Each one of them had a glass of red that, at first glance, looked like normal red wine. But on closer inspection, it was something far more sinister than that.

This alone wasn’t important, but when he noticed that the Duchess’ father was the only one actually eating, while the others seemed happily satiated with the blood alone, he paid a little more attention until he noticed something peculiar about the blood.

**Blood Essence.**

Blood Essence and normal blood weren’t the same things at all, and those with the ability to manipulate it were few and far between. Sylas’ **Taboo Bond** Profession was an anomaly.

But even that wasn’t what caught Sylas’ attention the most. It was the uniqueness of it all.

The reason he hadn’t noticed that it was Blood Essence from the very start was because Demonic Blood Essence was different. It was so much more like regular blood.

Sylas didn’t understand why this was, and he hadn’t tried to use **Taboo Bond** on these Demons—mostly because it was still Level 51. It could only be used on Fragmented E-Grade Genes for now.

He didn’t understand why that was until he felt the methods the Duchess’ father kept using to control his blood. He wasn’t grasping Blood Essence at all—he was just using normal blood.

Then it clicked for Sylas.

For Demons, their blood and Blood Essence were one and the same, and not nearly as difficult to taste. The question was… why?

The answer felt obvious to Sylas, at least.

The Demons were a completely divergent path of Life itself. Although it was just the highest layer, Genes formed the foundation of Humans and other Life on Sylas’ side of the world.

For Demons? Their power was in their flesh, blood, and bone.

Meaning, if there was a Demon with a strong fire affinity, then the secrets to this would be in their blood, and their bones would be resistant to it.

In which case, if Sylas used a Level 51’s bone to counter a casual casting on Ebison’s part, and matched it with the strength of his telekinesis, what chance did the latter stand?

The bones of the far weaker Blazara cut through the flames as though they weren’t there at all, dissipating the cascading attacks into a curtain of fire.

“I wonder. Does that count as 61 moves now? Or are we counting that as three?”

Sylas’ arrogant voice echoed. The Duchess’ father didn’t reply, but Ebison felt a great amount of fury all of a sudden. Did Sylas really think these bones could harm him?

Unfortunately for Ebison, Sylas never considered it. As his voice echoed behind the curtain of fire, Sylas had already moved.

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