Genetic Ascension novel Chapter 1722

Chapter 1722 Natural

Sylas watched as Salivar fell from the skies, retracting his trident with an almost slow, deliberate action. There was a calmness in his eyes that seemed to paint the picture of a man who didn't care whether or not Salivar was truly dead.

BOOM.

Salivar crashed into the sea of ice. A large slab of transparent white split in two, kicking up like the ends of a cracked skateboard and rising high into the skies.

The man himself disappeared into the waves that appeared between the cracked slab's ends, his body vanishing into the endless, sparkling darkness.

And then the slabs crashed back down, booming waves and pillars of water surging to the point they pierced the clouds above. What blood had been produced was entirely washed away, erased as though the life it had come from was meaningless.

Then came the silence. It crept on for several long seconds. But the world itself remained intact. If Salivar was dead, things would have long ended.

But if he wasn't dead, then where was he?

This was a question every spectator had, but it was one that Sylas didn't even waste a single thought on. In fact, his eyes had already closed, his trident resting calmly in his hand, loose to the point it seemed it might slip out of his fingers at any moment.

He seemed almost too relaxed for a man whose life and death might be decided within the next day. He didn't feel the pressure someone playing such a game of Russian roulette should have.

What pressure was there to feel when you had the utmost confidence in yourself?

PUCHI.

Sylas' figure flickered, a blade ripping into his side. Blood gushed, and the howl of laughter filled the air.

A Salivar with a rapidly closing hole in his chest appeared before him as though he had always been there. The aftereffects of the wind splitting against his speed hit Sylas with such force he was nearly blown back and away.

Yet, instead of following the current, Sylas stood his ground, swinging his trident across the air.

Space bent and warped, currents of the Mesh of Reality folding against his strike. But before he could land it, his neck tilted to one direction, slowing his momentum.

PUCHI.

A line of red cut through Sylas' armor once again, ripping into the flesh of his neck and severing an artery in two.

Blood gushed with the pressure of a burst pipe, steam filling the air along with the liquid as its heat was frozen

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