Genetic Ascension
-
chapter-463
[Rolland Orciulius (FFF+)]
[Level: 38]
[Physical: 1201]
>[Strength: 783]
>[Constitution: 615]>[Dexterity: 1789]
>[Speed: 1615]
[Mental: 1333]
>[Intelligence: 1662]
>[Wisdom: 1234]
>[Charisma: 1086]
[Will: 991]—
Sylas knew that his plan had worked the moment he saw Rolland's stats for the first time. Not only was his Grade no longer a string of question marks, but he could actually read his stats…
And they were more than manageable.
In fact, his stats, albeit stronger than Nosphaleen's, considering his level, it was almost to the point that...
'You're weak.'
Sylas didn't want any variable to creep up. It had been half a minute since he put the Arctic Emperor Cobra into the Hibernation Realm. That was the equivalent of over an hour of rest.
The Arctic Emperor Cobra wasn't severely injured to begin with. With its Constitution and the Hibernation Realm combined…
ROAR!
The familiar spread of a gorgeous hood of white and blue appeared before the scrambling Rolland.
The City Lord's pupils constricted when he saw the beast suddenly appear before him. He had already spotted Sylas, but he thought he would have the time to make it to the portal. What he didn't know was that Sylas could summon his contracts anywhere within the range of his visualization, and though Rolland was more than 50 meters from him…
The portal was not.
He didn't need to make it to Rolland; he only needed to stop Rolland from taking advantage of his higher Speed and making it there first.
Rolland knew that he had fallen for the perfect trap; however, he didn't give up, hoping that the curse-like affliction that had plagued the Arctic Emperor Cobra was still there.
But he was wrong.
Very wrong.
He tried to slip by the Arctic Emperor Cobra, activating a shifting Spell that accelerated him forward, but he was no longer facing off against the same creature.
<Arctic King's Domain>.
CRACK.
Rolland's fast movements shattered the ice on him, but his Speed plummeted off a cliff.
And worst yet for him…
With the Beast Totem active…
The Arctic Emperor Cobra's Speed was far stronger than his own to begin with.
A tail rammed into Rolland, and he felt like his entire body was shattered to pieces. He had weak Constitution compared to his Level to begin with. Facing off against a creature with almost 2800 Strength with such poor Constitution was a recipe for death… especially when the Speed he was so proud of was so worthless.
Unfortunately, even the City Lord's armor was worthless in front of such a disparity. Maybe only a treasure on the level of the Basilisk Skin Armor could make up such a difference.
By this point, Sylas had already landed on the wall.
The City Lord was soaring right toward him. He was going to catch him, but at the last moment, his eyes narrowed.
He pointed a finger forward and then drove it down.
A massive wave of telekinesis in the form of an enormous finger slammed the City Lord into the ground before he could even make it to Sylas.
BOOM!
Sylas crossed his arms over his chest, activating <Arctic Howl Mutant> in the same instant.
Smoke billowed into the skies, and Sylas was almost sent flying off the side of the great wall again. Beasts that had been converging onto the battlefield found themselves being sent sprawling away, and visibility was rock bottom.
'A sacrificial treasure?'
The split-second pause of <Arctic Howl Mutant> allowed Sylas to retreat, but the moment the shockwave started back up again, he could no longer stop himself from being blown away.
His Luck had sensed that something was wrong with Rolland immediately, but he didn't expect such a thing.
He had calculated every factor, but in the end, there was something still outside of his grasp. He didn't like it one bit.
'Luck… maybe that's why they call it that…'
He twisted in the air, realizing that he was falling toward a wave of beasts and armored men. The soldiers were grizzled veterans and each one was approaching Level 20 at the worst. The best of them were definitely over that threshold.
The problem wasn't their Levels, though… it was that there were simply too many of them.
Sylas barely had the time to spare to look at the leaderboard. He didn't even know just yet if the Arctic Emperor Cobra was alright. He shelved using their connection to see because he felt it was more important to know whether Rolland was alive or not.
The good news?
Rolland was definitely dead. His points shot up, and the Merit of killing a Leader was applied to him.
The bad news?
—
>[The culprit hidden in the dark has revealed himself. Kill him and secure victory]
—
There was yet another new clear requirement added with a nice, bold "OR" next to it.
Sylas looked above his head and would have chuckled bitterly if he cared to. It seemed that now the beacon had been transferred to him.
Still, this was all within his expectations and a worthy tradeoff in Sylas' eye. In exchange for the death of one Leader, he had exposed him. Now, it seemed that he only had to kill one more.
Falling through the air, he locked eyes with a stoic man of short stature with a beacon above his head.
The task was simple. Kill him, and all would be well.
Well… not exactly. Because even if he did, he would likely still be stuck in an army of soldiers that hated his guts.
Now, his contract was too far from him, the timer on his fusion with the Basilisk King had already been ticking for a small while now, and…
BANG!
Sylas landed, smashing a beast beneath him to minced meat with a punch.
He took a breath, and his gaze sharpened.
At this point, the beasts were his friends.
Unfortunately, there were no Serpentes here to take advantage of. Serpentes that were fans of the cold were already a rarity. They certainly wouldn't take up shop here, so he was surrounded by furry monstrosities.
However, just as he was going to make a decision, his gaze flickered as he noticed something.
