Genetic Ascension novel Chapter 879

Sylas’ tail swayed once.

BANG!

The lake of blood shook, a violent wave rising into the air beneath the shocking force.

Sylas’ Physical didn’t just increase by +4000 like he thought it might. After crossing into the Essence Mastery barrier, he shot up to a full +6000, a doubling of the last increase to his Physical stats.

Standing there now, his own stats also approached and crossed 10 000.

He was no longer so small.

The pain seemed to fuel him, his blood becoming wisps of black that fused into his armor, subtly increasing his stat output all the more.

As though feeding on his injuries, the armor became redder, darker, stronger.

Without even meaning to, Sylas tapped into a power that should have only been available at the Mastery of the third layer.

And then he roared.

It didn’t sound like a human at all. His voice layered, fierce winds billowing out of him.

Lightning pulsed, crackling and dancing across the surface of the lake. As though a helicopter was descending from above, the waters blew apart, rippling outward with a raging momentum.

BANG!

"Kill him." Aki said slowly.

Sylas had already crossed the 50‑meter distance, landing on the shore like a meteor falling from the skies. His knees bent, his body bowing akin to a steel spring.

The words had barely echoed when he made contact with the first Dogon.

Bone cracked and shattered, the Dogon shaking for a brief moment before he became nothing more than a bloody mist.

Aki was shaken for more reasons than one. There was no one more familiar with the Warlord Armors than himself. So he really couldn’t understand… just how Sylas’ armor was stronger than his own.

’It’s not time yet.’ Aki thought, his jaw clenching. _{freeweɓnøvel.com}

But Sylas didn’t seem keen on giving him that time in the slightest. Discover more stories at freewebnovel

"Vaekra. It will be up to you." Aki spoke once more, the sultriness of his voice fading just the slightest hint toward a colder darkness.

Vaekra was already moving, her bone earrings rattling. She raised her bow.

Sylas felt the danger before it came. The difference between a real archer and someone who was a casual marksman was palpable. It was akin to the difference between a cornered animal and a true predator. The instinct to kill lingered in the air, taking tangible form and wrapping around him, practically steering him right into the path of the attack.

Vaekra’s breath and her arrow were like one, drawing across the air and releasing in a single fluid motion.

In an instant, it was already before Sylas.

And yet Sylas just snatched it out of the air.