Genetic Ascension

Chapter 2081: Scraping

A ghost step in martial arts was a piece of footwork that even mortals could execute. It was designed to make oneʼs perception falter for a moment, glitching as one tried to recognize exactly when the step was taken.

Of course, mortals couldnʼt use an actual illusion, it was just a clever use of body mechanics, a form of a sliding step rather than a jump, leap, or lunge.

Sylas had seen it many times before, he had even practiced it during the days he was trying to improve his Comprehensions and successfully form Mixed Martial Arts before it became Mixed Demonic Arts and now Mixed Chaotic Arts.

He had never seen it executed like this.

It was almost like the Gluttonʼs feet didnʼt move at all. His toes barely twitched the slightest bit, and in the next instant, his fist was already at Sylasʼ throat.

Two rounded knuckles pressed forward with the momentum of a thrusting sword. It felt like putting a palm in front of it would have ripped your hand right in two.

Yet that was exactly what Sylas did. Taking a step back, he slapped a palm forward.

Pa.

He retrieved his palm, taking on the momentum of the Gluttonʼs strike and then shifting his feet.

His arm pulled back so fast it almost looked like the Glutton had blown it from his shoulders, and yet Sylas turned all that momentum into torque that erupted into a heel kick aimed for the side of the Gluttonʼs temple.

The Glutton had already raised a forearm to block, taking a step inside at the same time. Rather than facing the peak of Sylasʼ power at the latterʼs heel, the Gluttonʼs forearm met the back of Sylasʼ knee instead, jetting out his elbow and forcing it to curl.

Sylas doubled down, snapping his heel toward the back of the Gluttonʼs head, but as though having already expected this as well, the Glutton shifted, ducking down and then sweeping a leg at Sylasʼ ankle.

Sylas doubled down, snapping his heel toward the back of the Gluttonʼs head, but as though having already expected this as well, the Glutton shifted, ducking down and then sweeping a leg at Sylasʼ ankle.

Caught with his pivot foot firmly planted, Sylasʼ ankle nearly snapped on impact, but he once again allowed the momentum to carry him, his body flipping through the air.

Sylas crossed his arms, blocking the combination kick the Glutton followed up with. Even upside down, he didnʼt lose his awareness of the battlefield. Instead, he kicked down from above, using the Gluttonʼs attack to stop his sideways momentum and turn it all into a reversed axe kick.

BANG.

This time, it was the Glutton who blocked, crossing his arms above his head.

The two rapidly separated, sliding across the ground until their toes curled them to a stop.

A radiant emerald gold coated Sylasʼ being, but the Gluttonʼs Will exuded an endless depth, a dark brown that was both fathomless and without end.

All the while, he had never taken his feet from the earth, just like the first time they met. The difference was that this time, Sylas recognized exactly why that was.

But knowing the Glutton was taking energy from the earth and stopping him from doing so were two completely different things.

They both settled for the same ultimate choice, charging in a flash.

It was rare Sylas battled someone who didnʼt use weapons. Usually, he was the one restricted until recent events had changed things. It struck him that he had never truly exchanged with a real close combat expert.

And watching the intentionality of the chess moves the Glutton used in his stances, down tThis was an Art in itself.

The flow of the Gluttonʼs telekinetic martial arts was far better than his own. Unfortunately for the Glutton, Sylasʼ Will was far more powerful, and his capacity to learn was impossible to fathom.

BANG. BANG. BANG.

They advanced through the battlefield in a blur, their strikes echoing like collapsing strokes of air and erupting cloudy flurries that left their limbs akin to a smudged canvas of radiant colors.

Their gazes, however, remained the only constant. Cold, detached, and yet so very murderous.

The Glutton clawed at Sylasʼ throat and Sylas swung a shin at his crotch. They blocked simultaneously, pivoting around one another and erupting with their next attack.

Elbows met fists and knees met palms. They flowed endlessly between one another, their strikes somehow growing faster and more wild.

The form of beauty they once had became chaotic and hard to read, so much so that sometimes the both of them would feint two, three, sometimes even five or more times in a row as though they were reading and countering counters that happened 10 exchanges ahead.

They would randomly separate before surging ahead again.

The Glutton roared, his Will erupting.

His hood flew back, revealing a face marred by madness and scars. Black veins drew strokes almost like the roots of ancient trees out of the corners of his eyes.

His robes chattered, revealing a body chiseled to perfection and drawn by even more scars.

His Scorned Wraps danced in the air, looped with chains and a length that seemed far more substantial.

BANG.

The ground seemed to compress, the stairs shaking through to their very foundation as though they were no longer illusory.o the instinctual wildness he switched to in order to keep even Sylas on his feet, it made Sylas realize one very important thing.

A sideways kick thrust at Sylasʼ throat. It was like the Glutton had once again become a blade, and just like always, his other foot never left the ground.

ʼI think thatʼs enough.ʼ Sylas thought to himself.

Then he erupted with Mixed Chaotic Arts.

The world faded and every movement of the Glutton became like it was painted across the back of his palms.

Chi.

An oblique kick landed across the Gluttonʼs planted foot, shattering his knee as Sylas curved back out of the way of the kick.

Using the Gluttonʼs knee as a platform, Sylas flipped back as the formerʼs leg bent in the wrong direction.

Sylas landed deftly on the ground and the Glutton opened his mouth.

BANG.

A glowing emerald leg slammed against the side of the Gluttonʼs head, but Sylas was nowhere near him.

The Gluttonʼs words were lost to time, his face tumbling and scraping across the ground.