Genetic Ascension

Chapter 2380: Sword Maniacs

The young man with the backwards cap had stopped typing some time ago, his typewriter still floating easily in one hand while his attention drifted toward a distant point in the cosmos that no ordinary person could have sensed.

His shoulders trembled once as a shiver crawled through him, and then a grin spread across his face as though whatever had made him react was more entertaining than frightening.

”Oh, she’s coming too? Aiya... that mad woman really doesn’t know how to do anything halfway.”

He scratched at his cheek with the eraser end of one of the pencils tucked behind his ear, already imagining the woman lying lazily in that little boat with the sword resting against her chest. Another shiver moved through him, though there was no real fear behind it, and he laughed to himself as his eyes narrowed with amusement.

”Fucking sword maniacs.”

The typewriter vanished with a flick of his wrist, and he stretched his arms above his head as though he had finally decided that sitting around had become more boring than whatever chaos was beginning to gather ahead.

His gaze settled on the same region where too many threads were starting to converge, and the grin on his face widened until it looked almost childish.

”Aiya, I guess I should go too. It’s about time I meet this Sylas Grimblade in person.”

His fingers reached behind his ear and plucked free one of the pencils, which he tossed lazily into the air before it began swelling at an absurd rate. The wood stretched into polished black metal, the graphite tip transformed into the engraved point of an enormous fountain pen, and the entire thing rotated until it hung beneath him like some ridiculous flying sword.

”After all... shouldn’t I meet my grand master?”

He hopped onto the fountain pen without hesitation, planted both hands inside the pockets of his trench coat, and leaned forward while the weapon beneath his feet pointed toward the distant stars.

There was no gradual acceleration when it moved, only an abrupt disappearance as the pen crossed light years in the blink of an eye, moving no slower than the woman’s boat had moments earlier. His laughter lingered behind him even after his body vanished, stretched thin across the cosmos as though space itself had failed to keep up.

”My elder disciple brothers and sisters are going to hate this, but too bad for them, they’re all stuck on the God Plane.” His grin widened as he continued racing forward, clearly enjoying the idea far more than he should have. ”I get first stab at ingratiating myself, and by right of seniority, doesn’t Grand Master owe me a good gift when we meet? That’s just basic manners.”

The fountain pen vanished even deeper into the darkness.

**

On the Mortal Plane, the atmosphere within the Beast Emperor Sanctum had become so heavy that even the gathered leaders found themselves looking upward more often than they liked.

Several Beast Emperors stood beneath the massive structures surrounding the central sanctum grounds, their appearances carrying antlers, scales, feathers, strange eyes, tails, or other traits inherited from the concepts they represented.

None of them were Beasts, but the pressure spreading through the Sanctum made that distinction feel almost meaningless right now.

They had been moving as quickly as possible ever since the first signs of instability appeared, gathering resources, shifting people, and preparing every defense they could still reasonably put into place.

Even with all of that effort, the change in the Will surrounding the Sanctum made one fact impossible to ignore: they had still been caught off guard. The realization left several of them wearing expressions they would never have tolerated anyone seeing under ordinary circumstances.

Fanelei stood above them with her arms folded, looking entirely too relaxed for someone who had no ancestral connection to the Spirit Races beneath her. She belonged to another Guild Sylas had already brought under his control, which should have made her presence among the Beast Emperors uncomfortable, but none of them had enough attention left to spare on such things.

When she finally chuckled, several heads turned toward her with obvious irritation.

”What are all of you so worried about? It’s not like you stood a chance in the first place.” Fanelei smiled as the silence around her grew heavier, not bothered in the slightest by the looks she received. ”Either Sylas saves you all, or he doesn’t. There was never some comfortable middle ground where you solved this yourselves and everyone went home happy.”

A few of the Beast Emperors looked as though they wanted to argue, but none of them found the words, and that alone made the situation worse. They had spent so long preparing for threats they could understand that they had begun confusing preparation with control, yet the pressure now gathering above them belonged to something that had already grown beyond the limits of the Mortal Plane. Whatever happened next, their own strength wasn’t going to decide it.

Maybe some part of them had hoped that with Sylas gone, they could reclaim what was theirs. But... apparently not.

Fanelei looked toward the same distant sky and allowed the smile on her face to fade. ”Stop wasting time worrying and get ready to do whatever Sylas tells you to do when he gets here.”

The simplicity of the order cut through, and one after another, the Beast Emperors began moving again, what Pride they had had in themselves being dulled and grinded away by the impending call of the Demi-God Plane...

In all but one place, that is. A place that housed a certain master of Sylas’ and his first disciple. A disciple who was eager to finally rise to the Demi-God Plane, being just one step closer to returning home.

**

Far above them, beyond the reach of the Mortal Plane and even the Demi-God Plane, several shadowed figures sat around a table that seemed to exist only as an impression.

There were no stars around them and no visible walls, only a vast darkness surrounding a single orb that floated between their seats. Within that orb, distant scenes shifted from one to another, showing the woman on her boat, the young man riding his enormous fountain pen, and finally Sylas Grimblade tearing through the Beast Heaven aboard the Hollow Ship.

One of the shadowed figures leaned forward slightly as the images continued to cycle. ”The three should not be converging this soon, and something is clearly accelerating the sequence beyond what it should have been.” Another presence shifted deeper in the darkness, its attention remaining fixed on the orb while the image settled fully onto Sylas.

”He is the anomaly, and an anomaly of this scale should be wiped out before the deviation becomes irreversible.” The voice carried no anger, only a cold certainty. For several moments, no one answered, and the silence stretched until another shadow finally stirred.

”Not yet.” The orb split into three sections, showing all three paths drawing gradually closer toward the same destination while the surrounding darkness seemed to tighten around the table. ”They are coming together regardless of whether we interfere now, and if that cannot be stopped without creating an even greater disturbance, then there is value in allowing the convergence to happen.”

Another figure tilted its head slightly. ”You would risk further deviation simply to watch?”

The answer came without hesitation as the three images continued moving toward one another. ”Before we interfere, I want to see which of them is truly stronger.”