Sylas was a normal straight man. When he saw women that he thought were beautiful, it wasn’t as though he was blind to it, nor was he asexual.
The difference between him and others was that he was also able to easily displace himself from that state of mind. What was below his waist didn’t dictate his actions.
He had always known how beautiful Cassarae was. She was so beautiful that the boys of their high school were willing to wade through the hellish fires of that abusive mouth of hers just for a chance. Of course, too many failed. It wasn’t easy to feign confidence in front of a mouth like that.
Still, Sylas couldn’t help but wonder when she had become beautiful to him.
Cassarae’s favorite choice of clothes growing up was a pair of loose pants with as many pockets as the design would fit and a shirt that was just as loose.
He really didn’t look at her like a woman for much of his life, and it was quite easy to do considering the way she talked. But he did like her. In fact, he had liked her before he really saw her as beautiful in any way… her beauty, in a way, made him feel uncomfortable.
Sylas was suddenly stunned out of his thoughts. No matter how deep of a meditation he was in, the thought was too stunning. He broke out into a bit of a cold sweat.
Touching his forehead, he found that it was quite hot, but when he looked down, he realized that it wasn’t because he was scared or fearful, but because he was literally in heat.
Sylas frowned.
Every time he made a large breakthrough in Madness, it was always as a result of self-reflection. In fact, it was self-reflection about his own weaknesses that had saved his life back in the volcano.
One could argue that that vulnerability was far worse than this one, but the thought he had just had… felt far too ridiculous.
He was a man. Why wouldn’t he like a beautiful woman?
Sylas stared at the bars he was locked behind, and several memories that he seemed to have suppressed began to come up. His thoughts became a bit muddled, and flashes of that figure wrapped in red ribbon bubbled up in his mind.
He shook his head.
In the end, he tried to ignore it, shifting his thoughts elsewhere. But when he tried to pivot, nothing was working. He kept returning to the same thoughts.
He ended up shifting gears entirely and began to study the Arctic Emperor Cobra’s Ice-Poison sack once again. The benefits he got from it were great, and he was even beginning to wonder if he would be able to use Ice-Poison more casually if he reached a certain level.
He didn’t have a venom sack in him for obvious reasons, so he couldn’t just inject poison into an enemy through a bite or passively create it. But there was nothing that said that he couldn’t mimic the same result if he used his Aether.
Ice-Poison Aether ran through his veins right this moment, and for now, he only seemed to be able to passively tap into its defense. This was seen most clearly when he used his Aether skin.
He still recalled how Ice Aether had practically paralyzed him back then after his clash with a government woman. There was no reason that his own Aether shouldn’t be able to do the same things.
He lost himself in his analysis, and the next day, he woke with a start and smiled somewhat bitterly.
Looking at the sack most wouldn’t dare to come within several meters of resting in his palms, not to mention the frigid ice crawling across the ground and up the walls beside him, he realized that there was nothing more to learn. He had grasped everything.
All of his Arctic Royal Class Skills were now at Legendary Mastery. He couldn’t help but wonder if it was truly meant to be so easy… but then again, he did have a shortcut.
What Sylas didn’t know was that the vast majority of Skills on Earth right this moment were stuck at Fragmented Mastery. People could already be classified as elite for having Common Mastery in a Skill. But he was on a level all his own.
‘Still not coming, huh?’
Sylas looked around only to find that the guards had mostly retreated from his surroundings due to the cold, and there was clearly no one coming to get him any time soon.
—
[Tickets: 401]
—
‘They haven’t increased nearly as much as I thought they would have…’
It had to be remembered that since he earned 212 Tickets, he had claimed a Den, become a Baron, become a Captain, conquered several villages, claimed a Mount… the number of feats seemed endless, but he hadn’t even doubled the initial reward.
It seemed the difficulty of surpassing the feat of gaining the system’s acknowledgment was exceptionally high. He doubted anyone else would have gathered more than a handful of tickets.
‘There’s a day and a half left… I guess we’ll just have to wait and see if I’ll be pulling my rewards from within a cell or not.’
—
[Title Unlocked]
[Title: Shake of the Die (F+)]
[The Odds shift ever against you, but you’re more than willing to play them]
[Title Devours BOSS Slayer]
[+0%-5% boost in ALL stats randomly when facing ten or more enemies five or more Levels strong]
—
[Progress to Upgrade]
[2/3 — Ten on One Melee Fight Completed]
—
It also looked like he just had one more melee fight before his Title was upgraded. He hadn’t experienced many benefits from it at all, but maybe it wouldn’t be long before it was something far more shocking.
It seemed, though, that the only fight it counted was the one he used his Arctic King Emperor Domain in. He had a few guesses as to why that was.
Sylas sighed. It seemed that there wasn’t anything else to waste his time on.
This was truly the best environment he could ask for to meditate on Madness. If he didn’t take advantage of it because of apprehension, it would be the most foolish thing he could do.
Once again, he slipped into a deep meditation and images of a body he couldn’t forget even if he tried began to bubble up from the depths of his mind.
