Genetic Ascension novel Chapter 2205

Sylas honestly couldn't believe what he was seeing, but there was no mistaking it. Although she looked darker than he remembered—not just in skin tone, but aura as well—and she also had wings as black as night, and a gaze without a hint of the kindness he recalled… He was sure.

That was Nosphaleen.

It couldn't have been anyone else.

The people cheered. The men beat their chests and the women raised their children high as though to get a better look at the statue that they all called their own.

Many had already noticed Sylas' presence, but it was as though they didn't care at all. They were busy celebrating, busy celebrating their Goddess for having granted them a new world to conquer.

The journey to their next world often took the lives of many. The universe was treacherous and too many of their number were unbelievably weak. During the journey, many often died.

But seeing such a suitable world appear right across from them, they knew that their God was looking over them. How could they not be happy?

Even if some of them died to these invaders, that wouldn't be the fault of their God.

They were a people who knew how to be happy and grateful for what they had.

Sylas stood in silence as he watched this, his tan coat dancing in the harsh winds of the desert. The pelting particles of earth hit against his skin, threatening to leave rough marks across his flesh, but he didn't seem to notice at all, his gaze still focused ahead.

He never took his eyes off the statue. Gazing at that beautiful, familiar face, he couldn't help but wonder just what had happened for it to come to this.

Just what was he seeing here?

At that moment, a man walked out from the depths of the village and they all grew quiet.

Sylas didn't take his eyes off of Nosphaleen, but he sensed the man without a shadow of a doubt.

He radiated the might of a B-tier Race and the aura of a man A-tier in strength.

If one were to line up all of Sylas' opponents, he technically wouldn't even be the strongest. After all, Sylas had killed Gods—actual Gods before. He could still hear the screams of the Hydra even now.

But in terms of people he would have to face one on one, to decide life and death with his own skill…

This man was the strongest.

A Demi-God, a true one.

The man's marking radiated with black light, everywhere he stepped, his people cleared a path forward for him, their gazes staring at him with respect.

He stopped near Nosphaleen's statue, falling to both his knees and then slamming his forehead to the ground.

Once he was finished, he rose to his feet, not even bothering to clear the sand that covered his face out of the way as he turned to face Sylas.

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