Genetic Ascension - Chapter 888
Chapter 888: Name
Sylas heaved for breath, his blurry vision hardly able to focus on the figure in the skies. In that moment, it felt like he was looking at three… four, no, was it five people?
The Dogon fused back into one and then began to ripple in his sights.
Sylas blinked heavily, trying to focus his sight. But everything he had was already drained to an extreme. His body, his mind, his Will…
The only things that were left were his Contracts, but they didn’t stand a single chance, not when he couldn’t even keep Beast Totem active. The worst of it was that even if he could activate his Serpentes Beast Totem again, it wouldn’t make a difference.
He was the only one among them that could ignore the E-Grade aura. By comparison, his Contracts would be fish on a chopping board.
At that moment, his body felt like it was at a crossroads, the crown above his head struggling to remain but fading all the same. Either he would collapse to the ground beneath him right at that moment, or he would stand.
The fatigue was hitting him in a continuous stream of waves, even to the point that his inner organs themselves might just shut down. After being torn and twisted by Aki, it was a miracle that they hadn’t already done so.
His body was still oozing blood from the wounds that the stakes had driven through him.
Kneeling on the ground there, he well and truly didn’t have anything left.
And yet, his palm still pressed against his thigh, his heel driving into the ground as he used what strength he had left to stand.
It was short-lived, his body keeling over and falling forward. He wanted to take a step to catch himself, but his legs wouldn’t move fast enough, becoming a wobbling, jelly-like mess beneath him.
He slammed against something.
The body of the Basilisk King caught him, its warmth pressing against him.
It was only at that moment that Sylas realized just how cold he felt. So very cold.
His blood wasn’t pumping through him as it should, his heart lagging behind, struggling to keep up after it had been pushed so hard and so far.
The feeling of warmth was so sudden, Sylas didn’t know how to react. His vision swam again, just the slightest hint of comfort making his eyes want to close.
They felt so heavy, his eyelids and his lashes pressing down from above with the weight of mountains.
Blood spurted.
Sylas bit down on his tongue hard, pressing a palm against the Basilisk King.
His Contract nudged against him, lowering its head as though it were waiting for him to rub its head again.
A memory Sylas had suppressed resurfaced, the first odd interaction between himself and the Basilisk King.
He had tried to pet it as though he were petting a dog. Caught off guard, the Basilisk King froze for a moment before lowering its head to acquiesce.
Back then, he had promised it never again.
Thinking back, maybe it was quite amusing.
Now, not quite knowing what to do, the Basilisk King had lowered its head again, hoping that Sylas would try again.
For a moment, Sylas couldn’t help but wonder…
Just how old was the Basilisk King?
For the first time, he didn’t see it as a beast, but a creature with thoughts and feelings no different from a human.
No, maybe this could be considered the second time. But since the first, he had suppressed those urges.
He had too much to do, too much to accomplish; he couldn’t afford to take on the Basilisk King as another burden, another thing to consider, another family member to take care of.
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Because then how would he use it in battle the way he should?
But with his Will depleted, his thoughts were almost… human for a moment, in an irony of ironies.
Was the Basilisk King… actually a child?
Thinking back through all of its actions, Sylas couldn’t seem to see the mighty beast with Legendary potential anymore.
He heard something whispering at the back of his mind, something that had always been there but he had ignored maybe on purpose.
The Basilisk King wasn’t just a child… it was a newborn, a baby that hardly understood the world around it.
It was only the slightest bit older than the Bone-Tailed Lizard and the Glassirith.
Feeling his palm against its body, Sylas felt…
Sorry.
His mind flashed to all the Quests he had completely ignored. Quests to groom his contracts, to play with them, to soothe them.
They had never been worth his time. He needed Experience in the countless trillions; what good to him were little spurts of 10 or 20 here and there?
His contracts were tools to be used.
Right now it didn’t feel that way.
Not when his body was so very cold, so very distant, and the only warmth he could feel was right in front of him.
Someone was actually comforting him, Sylas Brown. When had he ever needed something like that before?
That was right… was it even that long ago?
No. It wasn’t.
A woman he had loved since he was a child had to use her body to soothe his ego not more than a week ago.
Sylas felt disgust in his gut, a deep revulsion.
Though it was hard to tell if he was hating himself again, or if nausea had formed out of his fatigue.
Always being coddled. Always being babied. Always falling short when it mattered most.
His thoughts swirled wildly in his mind, an anal sort of chase of perfection escaping him.
He grasped onto his faults and hammered them down again and again until they were ingrained into his very psyche, amplifying them until they consumed his being.
A mouthful of blood came from Sylas’ lips, covering his chest.
The Basilisk King nudged him again, licking at his wounds and cleaning up the blood.
Sylas’ pupils trembled.
“Do you… have… a name?” he asked in a voice even he could barely hear.
The Basilisk King blinked, and then its eyes blanked as though it had lost itself.
Sylas thought that maybe he had thought too much. But then, a voice that was somehow both deep and immature echoed in his ears.
“Go… go…”
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