Genetic Ascension

Chapter 2340 Eternal [Bonus]

[Bonus thanks to Rikstingray [An Infinite Will > An Eternal Will]

[A Will Eternal in Essence]

—

A hidden ring of gold bloomed within Sylasʼ emerald eyes, so faint at first that it might have passed for a trick of the nebulaʼs light, but then it widened with terrifying speed until it seemed to circle his pupils like a second sun.

The transformation lasted less than a breath before the ring shattered, taking both of his eyes with it as molten flesh collapsed inward and blood poured from two empty sockets.

Sylasʼ head tilted back beneath the pressure, but his Classes had already begun to roar in response, Selfwrought Emperor, Void Sovereign, and Willborne Crown surging together as though they had been waiting for his Will to finally reach this threshold.

Selfwrought Emperor moved first, rebuilding what had been destroyed before the blood could even finish falling. The Class had been built from Sylasʼ Rune Mastery and designed around taking that mastery to its absolute limit, which was why he had never cared that none of his Classes possessed Skills in the conventional sense.

What could some pre-built Skill accomplish that his Runes and Will couldnʼt reproduce with greater precision?

He could create perfect clones of himself, and by extension he could recreate his own body with the same ruthless accuracy, rebuilding every vessel, nerve, and structure according to the greatest version of himself that his current comprehension allowed.

His eyes reformed.

Then they burst apart again.

Void Sovereign followed behind Selfwrought Emperor like contradiction made manifest, refusing to let perfection become a prison by deliberately leaving space where none should have remained.

Selfwrought Emperor represented Sylasʼ current peak, a body sharpened to the furthest limit he could presently define, but Void Sovereign ensured there was always a fraction of emptiness beyond that definition, a narrow gap his body could grow into rather than a wall it could only stop Before.

That excess was where his Healing Factor took root, and every time his eyes were destroyed, Void Sovereign extended the space of what they could become before Selfwrought Emperor rebuilt them according to that new potential.

The cycle accelerated.

Emerald eyes formed, stronger than the ones before them, only for the pressure of the Fate Dragon to rupture them again.

Flesh melted, nerves burned away, new tissue rebuilt itself, and each destruction gave Void Sovereign another fraction of room to expand while Selfwrought Emperor chased after it without hesitation.

Left alone, the two Classes might have devoured Sylas from within, one endlessly opening new potential while the other tried to perfect it, the chase continuing until his body had nothing left to give.

That was where Willborne Crown entered.

The third Class became the hub that controlled the entire process, gathering Sylasʼ comprehension, telekinetic authority, and newly transformed Will into a single point of command.

Rather than allowing Selfwrought Emperor and Void Sovereign to rampage across his entire body, Willborne Crown narrowed their attention toward his eyes, guiding every destruction and reconstruction toward the vessel Sylas actually wanted to evolve.

His bones, organs, flesh, and blood trembled beneath the pressure, but the transformation remained centered exactly where he had chosen.

The nebula around him began to collapse under the strain.

Royal blue clouds twisted into long spirals while rivers of gold bent toward Sylas as though dragged by an invisible current, the volatile energies that had protected the Fate Dragon for so long now feeding into the storm surrounding him.

Space buckled at the edges of his body, while the void beneath everything seemed to pulse in time with his heartbeat, expanding and contracting beneath the weight of an existence trying to be reborn.

Through it all, Sylas remained suspended at the center, his hair whipping wildly through currents that shouldnʼt have existed in empty space while streams of blood repeatedly traced down his face.

His eyes shattered again.

And again.

Then once more.

Each time they returned, the emerald light became brighter, the structure beneath them more durable, and the connection between his gaze and Will more complete.

Sylas could feel the remaining half of the Fate Dragon being dragged inward through that cycle, its old identity ground down piece by piece as his Eternal Will filled every opening left behind, until what entered him was no longer just some failed construct belonging to a dead Clan.

It belonged to the Grimblades now.

That was what they would do better than anyone else.

They would take what existed, Reap what was worth keeping, and rebuild it beneath their own name until no foreign authority remained above them.

Sylas didnʼt care what God Clan had once imagined itself capable of creating this Fate Dragon, nor did he care what Basilisk had once stood at the peak of some ancient bloodline and believed that greatness entitled it to ride above the heads of those who came later.

He was his own Ancestor.

The Grimblades would not need to borrow their majesty from anyone who came before them, and they certainly wouldnʼt measure themselves by some corpse of ancient glory that no longer had the strength to defend its own name.

Sylas would build a lineage that stood beyond the fear Dragons inspired, beyond even the majesty carried by the Phoenix of legend, and when the universe remembered the Grimblades, it would remember something that never needed to lower its head.

Something that endured. Something that remained untouchable into Eternity.

BOOM.

The world around Sylas recoiled.

The remaining Fate Dragon vanished into him completely, and for one final moment his empty sockets remained dark while Willborne Crown compressed everything he had learned into their reconstruction.

Then flesh surged back into place, nerves connected, emerald irises bloomed, and the golden ring returned within them, no longer hidden and no longer fragile, circling pupils that now seemed capable of piercing straight through the veil of the universe.

Sylas looked up.

Layers of reality peeled apart beneath his gaze, the boundary between the Demi-God and God Planes becoming almost transparent for a single instant. Far above, beyond laws and distance that should have made the sight impossible, a vast black Serpentes paused.

Gogo was still there, still looking down on him, still observing.

And now, Sylas could see him.

BOOM.