Genetic Ascension

Chapter 1609 Naivete

Those on the outside were watching intently as Nosphaleen was swiftly being surrounded. One screen after another seemed to all be converging on the same area.

Ekear stood in silence, his hands relaxed, and his body seemingly in a state of calm. But his eyes seemed to betray a completely different emotion.

He knew that none of this was Sylas’ fault, and he wasn’t as easily fooled by Elbrum as everyone else seemed to be. And even if he did believe Elbrum’s words, how could Sylas have known that there would be another chance?

From where he stood, he had no idea why so many were targeting Nosphaleen. Everyone here could see that there was little rhyme or reason to it all.

Nosphaleen could only feel three groups targeting her right now, but there was actually a fourth—the group that triggered the Sona to attack in the first place: the Kaelthar.

It felt like a truly impossible situation.

Ekear closed his eyes.

…

“Seems her situation isn’t the best right now. How cruel.” The Emperor Dove pouted. “That Whale Warlord Armor is really something else, but that tubby bucket of lard seems to have a unique advantage.”

“Thryskai,” the Emperor Lizard said coldly.

The Emperor Dove chuckled as though he already knew and didn’t need it clarified. But it was also a laugh that said he was aware of the underlying matter of it all in a way that those below certainly wouldn’t be.

“Are we going to leave things like this?” the Emperor Lizard asked.

“If the higher-ups wanted us to do something, they would have told us already. Why do you think they sent us? Usually there’s at least one A-tier looking in from afar, but they didn’t even send that much this time. The implied meaning is obvious,” Elbrum said coldly.

The Dove and Lizard alike both looked toward Elbrum, realizing something. Was this the real reason Elbrum had been so flippant with the rules this time? It really didn’t matter at all… “You’re so cute, bummy boy. And here I thought you had lost your mind.”

Elbrum looked over with a cold look in his eyes, and the Emperor Dove scurried away again.

…

Robareda’s frown couldn’t be hidden from her expression. At this pace, Nosphaleen might be dealt with by the Sona and Buri before the 002 Sanctum could even get there. How would she get her for study like that?

The world was against her. Nosphaleen knew this more intimately than anyone else. And in that moment before she clashed with the black-scaled centaurs, she couldn’t help but think of Sylas once again… Was this how he felt all the time?

How often had he been in a situation like this one? How many times had he faced off against enemies where disadvantage was the name of the game, where his flesh was a signboard for their blades and his blood was the ink they hoped to write their futures in?

How many walls had his back felt?

Was his heart beating out of his chest like this at those times? Was he worried about failure? Was he teetering on the edge of fury at the unfairness of it all?

Nosphaleen had always respected the strength of Sylas’ shoulders. But it wasn’t until this moment that she truly understood the sort of burden he carried everywhere he went.

Even in the midst of the danger around her, the destruction rending the ground and sundering the thick clouds above, her eyes couldn’t help but soften.

‘I love you, Sylas Grimblade.’

A burning fire of silver erupted in the depths of Nosphaleen’s gaze.

Nosphaleen roared, the earth around her sinking down a uniform inch all at once as though compressed by a heavy weight.

The instant the centaurs entered range, the front of their stride faltered and their knees smashed into the ground.

A pair of radiant wings appeared on Nosphaleen’s back. Feathers of silver and white radiating delicate pinks, soft blues, and gentle lilacs flapped just a single time.

[Wings of Rhyme].

Fast didn’t begin to cut it. It was as though she was teleporting-she vanished, appearing amidst her attacks.

Her wings bent to the world’s rhythm, and all of a sudden even Fifth Prince Buri’s control over the space shattered to pieces. The wall of fat coughed up a mouthful of blood, his pupils constricting in shock. The result was being a step late to stop what was happening.

[Wings of Rhyme] comprehended the world, nullifying limitations it might impose on one’s speed. Air resistance, gravity, spatial anomalies, even terrain… It was all irrelevant.

Nosphaleen could just as easily phase through the earth as she could take a single step to cross kilometers at a time.

This was the strongest movement technique of the Mesmeryx at Progenitor Mastery.

Heads shattered and blood fell in a rain. In a flash, Nosphaleen had appeared before Fifth Prince Buri’s palanquin. She stepped a foot onto its very edge and the two slaves holding up the front were plowed into the ground.

Her trident swept up currents of space, raising a momentum that felt as heavy as a mountain and as dense as diamond itself. It hardly accelerated much, yet everything around it slowed in relation, the bounds of spacetime warping and showing signs of fraying.

The synergy between her Whale Warlord Armor, her [Wings of Rhyme], and her trident abilities layered one on top of another until it became a falling meteor of flaming fury.

BOOM!

In one moment, the Fifth Prince was on his chair, coughing up blood. In the next, he was sent blasting away, his body ripping up the ground, shattering trees to bark and timber, and leaving a valley of destruction in his wake.

Fifth Prince Buri coughed up another mouthful of blood, his forearm smoking with his own blood and flesh. He looked down at it, seemingly still in that state of childlike surprise. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been injured like this by anyone of the F-tier.

And then he looked up and slowly rose to his feet, far more agilely than someone of his size should have been capable.

The wound on his forearm sizzled and then closed.

Slowly, that childlike naïveté faded, replaced by a face so deadpan it felt as though the devil himself had drawn it into being.