Nerion’s laughter continued to peel through the skies, carrying a chilling cold that felt even worse than the howling winds.
Sylas slowly calmed, watching the man laugh as though he had completely lost his mind.
Did it matter to him if this was the Seventh or the Ninth Summoning?
Yes… but only a small measure.
There was a small chance of surviving even if the Seventh Summoning failed. The fact that there were power structures and governments that survived the “Sixth Summoning,” or rather, what was likely the Eighth Summoning, proved this.
However, if the Ninth Summoning failed, Earth was all but finished.
From his understanding, a world that failed nine attempts was doomed to be subordinated to another world. A world incapable of crossing the Summoning of their own would have to piggyback the laws of another.
This sounded like a cheat, but in reality, it was the worst kind of fate. This was because the system would split into subordinate and master roles. In the end, the humans of Earth would become not much unlike the beasts they hunted today.
The Basilisk King was the perfect example of this. Sylas still hadn’t managed to find a method of helping it to level up. And strengthening it took difficult, roundabout methods that he could only find thanks to a Legendary Path Profession.
If Earth was subordinated to another world, all of its people would lose easy access to leveling up, gathering Genes, and overall improving themselves.
It wasn’t just as simple as becoming subordinates… They would become subordinated while being entirely unable to ever have a chance to rise again in the future.
It would be the end of Earth as they knew it.
Even if Sylas managed to survive, he would rather die than live such a life. Wasn’t his freedom the reason he was doing this in the first place?
That said…
He never planned to fail in the first place.
Now, all that had happened was that the situation had become more complicated. The fact that two of the Summonings had been hidden from them could only mean that it was done on purpose by those messing around behind the scenes.
The fact you got so many more Genes from killing fellow humans… the cancerous growths on the Runes of Earth… and now the obscuring of their own world’s history…
They had really gone all out.
A light glowed in the depths of Sylas’ eyes.
CLING! CLANG!
His pauldrons and shin guards appeared as Nerion was still in a maddened laughter.
There was a flash in his eyes and suddenly a strong pulse of telekinesis rammed right into Nerion’s chest.
All the air was knocked out of the Clypsian in a single instant.
It was clear that Nerion was caught off guard and didn’t expect such a thing. However, Sylas didn’t have the mind to care. For one, the pressure of the chilling winds around him was too great. Plus, he had already activated his fusion with the Basilisk King and he was on a timer. If he could get through all nine steps in eight minutes, he would be shit out of luck.
He had already given this man more than enough time to talk.
BANG!
A second attack slammed into Nerion’s back before he could regain his bearings.
Sylas raised his fist as the disoriented Nerion came flying toward him. It was then he realized that he might be in luck…
Because Nerion was a person of Earth, despite the fact his stats were the most ridiculous Sylas had ever seen for a Level 5, his understanding of things might very well be just as limited.
He might not know how to deal with Sylas’ telekinesis at all.
Sylas’ fist flashed and his pauldron roared through the air.
Nerion’s eyes only had time to widen before his head exploded into a rain of gore.
His telekinesis could now exhibit over almost 1200 points of Physical on up to 150 pounds. If he pulled on his Gluttony Seed, he could easily add another 50 pounds to that… enough to knock a grown man off his feet with a single pulse.
Sylas put Nerion’s corpse away and rushed forward.
He had nothing but speed on his mind, and if things were the same as every other round, he knew that he only had stronger and stronger challenges ahead.
Luckily… the worst challenge he faced was the buffeting of the wind around him.
The experience of the people he faced was too limited. Their stats were absolutely ridiculous, making it clear and obvious that humans were certainly not the apex creatures of Earth, whether that be in Physical stats or Mental ones.
However, in this case, it simply didn’t matter.
Sylas ripped through one after another, gathering their corpses and plowing his way forward. He spent not even two minutes on the first seven stairs…
But then he stepped onto the eighth.
Across from him was a shirtless man who wore a seal-skin skirt. He stood even taller than Nerion, and across his robust chest was a pattern of scales that reflected a gorgeous array of blues, almost like the sun reflecting off the surface of a lake you could see clear to the bottom of.
Sylas made the same move he always did, bum-rushing the Clypsian with his telekinesis and rushing forward to deal a death blow with his pauldrons.
However, this time, it didn’t work.
His telekinesis dispersed as it crashed against the chest of the Clypsian almost like wind gliding across the surface of an aerodynamic vehicle.
The muscular Clypsian looked down at his chest, raising an eyebrow as though he was slightly surprised by something. When he looked up, Sylas had already cut the distance between them by half, but he still seemed to be in half a daze.
Suddenly, he punched out.
BANG!
Sylas’ pauldron and the Clypsian’s fist met. The man frowned a bit, clearly feeling some pain. But Sylas’ pauldron was sent rebounding into the distance.
