Sylas felt that it was hard to see anything other than the step before him. They were very manageable, only six inches tall, so short that even a toddler could walk up them without handrails to rely on.
But they still consumed his vision. He couldn’t even see the step beyond, just the one right in front of him. That and the foot he slowly raised to press onto it.
One foot after another, one focused bit of attention swapped for another focused bit of attention.
If not for the winds cutting across his flesh, he would have completely lost himself, his beaten and battered body becoming nothing more than an afterthought.
He remembered this sort of feeling, this experience. Whenever he went on a long run or had a particularly grueling boxing session, he would forget about everything.
If there had been a stamina stat in the system, he was sure that his own would be quite high. Ironically, Constitution, which was likely where most of stamina was baked in, had been his weakest stat starting out at just 5 out of a potential 10.
Sylas had always wondered about that, but he felt he had a pretty good answer.
He had a pretty tall frame, standing at 6’4″, but he had always preferred endurance sports. There wasn’t much muscle on his frame at all, at least not muscle that wasn’t lean and highly functional. It was no wonder, then, that the defense aspects of his Constitution stat had caused the entire thing to take a hit.
Sylas pressed down another foot, his lips chapped and bluer than natural. They might have even started to bleed if not for the fact his blood was running just as cold as the surroundings.
This was, at least, his first explanation for all of this. But the more he learned about Constitution, the more he felt that his stamina should have overridden the weakness of his body more. At the very least, he should have been given a 6 or 7.
And that was when it hit him.
—
[Fragmented Genes: Grimblade Lineage (F)]
—
He had been observing the Clandestine Ape’s mutated Genes for a while. After eight staircases more worth of battles, he had seen them in all shapes and forms, barely coming out with his life just for a glimpse.
That experience made him realize just the kind of twisted fate absorbing the wrong Gene could give you… but what about if you were born with such a Gene?
Sylas pressed a hand to his chest as he coughed up a mouthful of what should have been blood… but instead, it came out as shards of almost violet crystal.
His Grimblade Lineage Fragmented Gene, first of all, was a downgrade. If he had to guess, the main line of the Grimblade family probably had it in Bronze. That meant that his wasn’t just one step down, but an entire two.
On top of that, the Blade Aura Gene Talent he got from it was so mutated and warped that it didn’t even have a Grade. Instead, it got a dash through it instead.
Sylas couldn’t help but wonder… was his Grimblade Lineage Gene nothing more than a hindrance to him?
The moment he had the thought, he wanted to use Extricate on himself to take it out. Unlike others that would be helpless, he wouldn’t be. But…
He couldn’t do it.
He had always wondered why his name was automatically registered as Grimblade by the system, why he already had an Affiliation without even making a choice.
Wasn’t the answer obvious now?
If he took it out now, what would happen to all of that? Would the Grimblades take it as a sign of his defecting? And at that point, what would it mean for his family?
A great deal of frustration was creeping into his mind.
Boxed in from all sides, and feeling as though there was an endless path before him, it was hard for any human to not feel like they had touched the very ends of their limits.
Even if he made it past this trial, he would be faced with another, a full squad of 10 with every intention to take him out, and a healthy dose of caution because they knew exactly how dangerous he could be.
Sylas took another step forward, then another. Somewhere deep inside, he began to wonder why he should keep walking at all. Yet, he took a third, then a fourth.
His feet never stopped.
He tried using Winter’s Edge again, but soon the ache in his body made his wheezing breath heavier.
Winter’s Edge was too powerful, and he was still too unfamiliar with it. When he used it, his body could easily be pushed past the brink of fatigue. By then, he wouldn’t even be able to raise his feet to take another step… and another… and yet another…
An endless cycle, but he kept going. His head was lowered, focused only on the next step, not how far he had gone, or how far he had to go.
Just one foot after another.
‘It’s just me and you…’ Sylas thought, speaking to himself. ‘… You said it was bullshit that the system could put a number on Will… so prove it… Sylas Brown…’
Another foot, then another.
Sylas felt his consciousness fading.
He was lying to himself, and he knew it.
This was no longer a challenge of Will. It had surpassed that long ago. If it was just a matter of Will, he had it in spades. The problem was that his mind was too fatigued.
The Clandestine Ape pills couldn’t replenish his mental fatigue. Had he not been circulating
Another foot. A second. Then a third.
‘Just you and me…’ Sylas thought to himself. ‘… Just me…’
The more his mind faded, the harder it became for him to control the smoldering flames of fury in his heart.
‘Just me…’
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
The echoes of steps reverberated through the tunnel of ice, a sense of claustrophobia shrinking in from all sides.
‘Just me…’
—
[Your understanding of
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[Your understanding of
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SHOOOOM!
