Genetic Ascension

Chapter 1457: Entry [1000 GT Bonus]

[Quicktime Event Initiated]

[Ode to Immortality]

[Suggested Level: 50]

[Details: It has been countless cycles since a Primus Imperium last manifested, yet on this monumental day, not one but two have graced us with their presence. Though an auspicious occasion, the Tower of Champions recognizes only a single true victor—one genuine Hero.] [Event Category: Destinyʼs Twist]

[Victory Condition]

[Ascend to become an Unstoppable Primus Imperium]

Sylasʼ gaze sharpened as he scrutinized the Quicktime Event notification—twice over. Initially, he hadnʼt even realized Quicktime Events could activate inside a Dungeon. Then again, this was far from an ordinary Dungeon; it felt more like a dimensional gate, thrusting everyone into an immense battle royale.

More troublingly, encountering another Primus Imperium this early was unexpected and complicated matters significantly.

He was already struggling against a mere 018 Sanctum prodigy—what were the chances this Primus Imperium hailed from an equivalent or more formidable Domain?

Though such occurrences were rare—Primus Imperiums seldom emerged from highly fortified Sectors—the probability that this opponent had traversed the same path as Sylas bordered on nil.

Almost certainly, they had embraced E-Grade Genes and wielded E-Grade Aether instead.

On paper, within the strict confines of F-Grade metrics, they might be weaker than Authrione. But once their E-Grade affinities were factored in?

The disparity was staggering.

Perhaps, this Imperium had opted for Sylasʼ route, leveraging the broad array of foundational skills to maximize within the F-tier. Yet, Sylas doubted many would dare choose such a bold and unconventional path.

Slowly, he rose to his feet. His body wasnʼt fully restored, but healing was well within his control. Not only did he possess an abundance of Healing Elixirs, but he also owned the Hibernation Halo at his disposal.

By now, the Hibernation Halo was an absurdly powerful tool. Vipermancy had advanced to E-Grade, amplifying the healing beyond ordinary limits.

Furthermore, his injuries no longer obstructed his ability to perform Fusions successfully.

The reason hed held off on healing wasnʼt just tactical—he had no intent to reveal the full extent of his capabilities to Authrione. Sylas had concealed many strengths during their fight, but if not for the systemʼs intervention, Authrione would have been finished. In neutral territory, the 018 Sanctum geniusʼs life would have been forfeit, a truth Authrione clearly understood, fueling his rage.

Post-battle, Sylas refrained from rapid healing to observe his bodyʼs regenerative processes—a rare opportunity to study his own recovery in real time.

He sought ways to further refine [Madness Control]; after all, it was a promise made to his wife that drove him onward.

Black scales enveloped Sylasʼ form as a luminous golden halo emerged at his feet. With a sudden pulse, his vitality was restored. Exhaling steadily, he ended his Fusion and clenched his fist.

He sensed that his Physical attributes had subtly improved—not surprising, considering his body was still adapting to updated stats, Dual Aether Pathways, and recent enhancements.

Improvement wasnʼt solely about consuming resources. Ordinary training or, in this case, surviving mortal peril remained invaluable methods.

Sylas appeared amidst an endless void, where Jala and Alex had already returned. Theyʼd spent the last few days recuperating, now fully restored.

Others had gathered as well.

Neyara, the unreadable man Sylas couldnʼt scan, representatives of the Enlore Race, and the sole survivor of the Ravult Race were present.

Amazingly, no one had fallen. That didn’t mean all had succeeded. Neither Jala nor Alex had passed, but Sylas didnʼt need to ask before Neyara updated him.

”We failed. Only four of us cleared the seven required.”

Sylas inclined his head. “Itʼs of no consequence.”

Neyaraʼs expression brightened upon hearing that.

Clad in neat attire—a black turtleneck and khaki pants—Sylas looked nothing like someone who had just fought fierce battles. Even his new glasses were pristine.

Just as Sylas finished speaking, a system notification appeared:

[Congratulations Team Grimblade Lineage. Your Champion has secured the Right of Entry.]

[Would you like to take part in the Team Battle?]

[Yes] [No]

Sylas selected [No]. With no rewards at stake in this preliminary phase, it was wiser to proceed directly into the tower. He had allowed ample time for the others to recover. Upon confirming the choice for them, a portal materialized around the group, and with a soft pop, they vanished.

When Sylas opened his eyes once more, he found himself amidst a breathtaking prairie, golden wheat fields stretching endlessly. The scene was ethereal—a blend of gentle browns and shimmering golds, as if caressed by the hands of a sun deity.

He glanced over the landscape before turning toward a modest villa behind him. It resembled a wealthy countryside home, spacious with several rooms, yet styled to mimic a rustic woodland cabin.

“What is this place?’

Something felt distinctly off. Neyara had mentioned the Tower of Champions reshaped itself each time, so there was no fixed precedent for what awaited inside.

still, Sylas could sense his teammates were somewhere within. As for their direction... His eyes narrowed as the Sealed Treasure Map, likely marking the obelisk he sought, flickered alive on his notification interface.

He certainly held a secret advantage against his adversaries.