The Ice Bolts rained down.
Everywhere they crashed into, waves of ice would spread for dozens of meters, and under the influence of Sylas’ 70 Foundation Ice Runes, it was as though the bolts had instantaneously become several times more powerful.
Before, it took 2000 Attack to break their best defenses. But now, it took over 5000, and Sylas hardly changed a thing.
In an instant, the battlefield had become a world of ice, many of the combatants having gotten caught up and crushed within it. Some instantly froze over and died where they were, unable to manage under this kind of chill.
As for those that survived…
Sylas landed on the ground in the sea of ice, switching over to a more low-profile
Alex’s gaze couldn’t help but flicker as he watched this sight, but it was Cole who could hardly manage his emotions. He had just fought against one of these combatants and had to put in a decent amount of effort. If not for the fact that his wife had handed him over so many stats, he would have never been able to kill them with such ease.
And yet, Sylas, to his knowledge, didn’t have such methods. What he also didn’t know was that Sylas had yet to even fuse with the Basilisk King, something that Alex was all too aware of.
This display of strength…
Simply didn’t make logical sense.
But then Alex thought of the requirements for the Dungeon. Could it be related to that? Could Sylas’ Will really be so high? What was the difference here?
Neither could see that the reason Sylas was so powerful was because he was relying on his Will to commandeer the Mature Aether around him. The only reason he could do this was that the Legendary Path System in this Split Realm had granted him ownership of this Aether.
Of course, he was originally supposed to use it to level up. But the Legendary Path System wasn’t going to quibble with him over that. What he decided to do with the Aether after it was given to him was up to him…
And Sylas chose to use it to absolutely destroy and wreak havoc wherever he went.
The morale of the troops in the city suddenly shot through the skies.
Every time Sylas leapt into the skies and lanced down those mighty giants from above, it was as though they were watching a deity descend.
How could they not feel an upswell of confidence?
…
Sylas seemed to overturn the situation on the battlefield single-handedly, but Alex and Cole, though much slower, were dealing quite a bit of damage themselves.
Cole, with over 90% of his wife’s stats handed to him, had several stats over 2000. Even if an exchange lasted more than a swing of his sword, it would only rarely last a second.
The difference was that he lacked all the flexibility of the methods that Sylas did, so he could only stay in his lane, remaining near the army so that he wasn’t surrounded. He also had no easy method of dealing with the Trolls beyond that.
Alex, however, though his stats were inferior to Cole’s, had a much wider range of attack methods.
The darkness that surrounded him was both a helping hand and a suffocating presence. From tendrils of whipping black to sudden shifts in his location, to a swallowing force that rendered attacks useless.
He shifted and seamlessly transitioned his way through the battlefield with only slightly less grace than Sylas himself, and his kill count wasn’t too far behind…
Relatively speaking, that is.
Sylas would check in on their status from time to time, taking note of the abilities that Alex and Cole displayed in case he would need this information in the future. Of course, this wasn’t necessarily for the sake of taking them down, but also for the sake of future plans they might need for this Split Realm.
Knowing his allies was just as important as knowing his enemies.
But speaking of enemies, he had a feeling that he didn’t understand these enemies much at all. He was thrust right into this spotlight and wasn’t even exactly sure how it happened.
Why was he called Great King? What was this place? Who was attacking? Was it really as simple as just a raid of Demons?
And most importantly…
Why did these numbers seem so endless?
Sylas had killed more than he bothered to count, but the waves continued to come.
It was lucky that he had practically formed an ice barrier at the gate that slowed them down from overrunning the city considerably. But how long could he last like this?
Sylas leapt to the side of a swinging club, erupting with an Ice Bolt that froze it to the ground. He was just about to repeat something he had done several times, running up the side of the club to the head of the Fortress Troll to deal lethal damage, but that was when he felt a shocking wave of danger.
Ever since he felt the statue suppressing his Luck, he had been consciously paying attention to it, so he had sensed this one even before it had time to settle in properly.
A beam was coming from a Berserk Golem.
‘They’re coordinating.’
Until now, they had shown no such thing. Only the Liches showed the slightest hint of intelligence. Other than that, the only sort of coordination they showed outside of that was that the golems didn’t usually attack areas where their army was dense.
From this, Sylas had already speculated that they had some sort of marching orders, but now he felt that it was certain.
That was when Sylas remembered the last time he had run into Trolls. Hadn’t there been someone controlling them back then as well?
Sylas strained his senses as he watched the oncoming beam. He didn’t move an inch as though he was trying to lock onto something.
And then he felt it.
His gaze sharpened, and his head snapped toward a certain location…
But it wasn’t outside of his city.
It was inside.
