Genetic Ascension

Chapter 2403: Brother and Sister

Tomoe frowned as another group of geniuses rushed toward the final throne, their desperation obvious now that four pillars of light had already pierced the skies.

She had ignored the Representative Wills from the start, caring far more about finding someone capable of making her sword feel alive again, but it was becoming increasingly obvious that the easiest way to continue her fight with Sylas was to finish this nonsense first.

Her sword moved once, and the first three geniuses rushing ahead of her disappeared beneath overlapping silver lines before they even realized she had attacked.

Another tried to slip around her using some movement technique that distorted space, only for Tomoe’s Sword Will to fill the gap ahead of him and cut through his body before his foot touched the other side.

More continued coming.

Tomoe’s frown deepened as the Executioner’s Blade rested loosely in one hand, her hair drifting around her while every strand carried enough sharpened Will to make the surrounding air hiss.

She didn’t understand why these people kept insisting on placing themselves between her and something she actually cared about, but if taking the final throne was what it took to get everyone else out of the way, then she would simply take it.

Far ahead, Sylas sat upon his own throne as the pillar above him began to stabilize, his attention briefly shifting toward Elara.

His sister opened her mouth with the expression of someone who already had another joke prepared, but the words never made it out. Sylas looked at her, and Elara’s back immediately straightened as she cleared her throat and folded her hands in her lap with all the dignity she could suddenly remember possessing.

”Sorry.”

Sylas continued looking at her for several seconds before speaking. ”What did you do wrong?”

Elara’s lips pressed together as she glanced down, already knowing that this wasn’t one of those questions where guessing incorrectly would improve her situation.

”I was reckless.”

”Worse than reckless.”

Elara’s pout appeared almost immediately, but she had enough sense not to argue when Sylas’ expression didn’t change. After another moment, she repeated the correction with considerably less enthusiasm.

”Worse than reckless.”

Januar watched the exchange from his own throne, and the more he listened, the stranger the interaction became. Rhykan’s familiarity with Sylas hadn’t interested him much since Sylas had ignored the man almost completely, but Januar had absolutely no idea who this young woman was, and the fact his usual methods gave him nothing only made the question more interesting.

His scrying ability had already become strangely unreliable around Sylas. That alone had annoyed him. But what Januar hadn’t expected was for the same protection to extend naturally toward Elara, with every attempt to follow her Karma or history disappearing into the same indistinct fog surrounding Sylas.

There weren’t many explanations for something like that, especially when the protection didn’t feel borrowed or temporarily layered onto her.

Januar glanced from Elara back toward Sylas.

Then the tone of their conversation made something click for him. Sylas wasn’t speaking to her like a lover, subordinate, or ally, and Elara’s reaction carried none of the tension those relationships would have produced. It sounded closer to a father reprimanding a daughter, except the ages didn’t fit at all, which left only one explanation that made any sense.

Little sister.

Januar’s expression finally shifted. Before he could follow the thought much farther, a roar tore across the skies.

”ELARA GRIMBLADE!”

Several presences surged toward the thrones from a distant section of the World of Spirits, one wrapped in brilliant pink wings while another carried the unmistakable aura of a Thryskai.

More figures followed behind them, and as their power expanded the atmosphere changed, radiant pressure filling the heavens with something far cleaner and more oppressive than the Wills surrounding most of the other geniuses.

The aura of Angels filled the skies.

Tomoe turned toward them with visible irritation.

She had already cleared one group, then another, and now more ants had decided to come crawling out just as the final throne was nearly within reach. The fact they were Angels interested her even less than their apparent connection to Elara, and she lifted the Executioner’s Blade without bothering to ask why they were here.

”Mad woman...” Januar muttered from his throne.

No one casually offended the Angels, but Tomoe clearly didn’t give a damn.

The first Angel descended with pink wings spreading across hundreds of meters, each feather glowing with concentrated Will as spears of radiant light formed around her. The Thryskai beside her attacked at the same time, a weapon crashing downward beneath enough force to wrinkle the surrounding space while the others spread out to seal Tomoe’s movement.

Tomoe swiped her sword down and the sky split.

The radiant spears broke apart first, each one severed so cleanly that the light remained suspended for a moment before realizing it had been destroyed. The Thryskai’s attack followed, his weapon meeting a thin silver line that traveled through the edge, down the shaft, and across his body before he had enough time to understand that he was dead.

Tomoe continued walking.

One Angel tried to descend behind her and found her wings falling away in pieces, while another expanded a radiant domain only for grey and black Sword Will to bleed through it from the inside.

Every technique they used seemed to provide Tomoe with another surface to cut, and within seconds the beautiful radiance filling the heavens had become fragmented streaks drifting through a world of grey.

The pink-winged Angel screamed and forced more power into his bloodline, his wings swelling as a massive figure began taking shape behind her. Tomoe looked up at it, her earlier irritation finally easing into the faintest trace of interest, then she stepped forward and swung once more.

The figure split from forehead to waist and the man beneath it followed.

Silence spread across the battlefield as the remaining Angels fell, their Will dispersing into the surrounding World of Spirits while Tomoe continued toward the final throne without giving their corpses another glance.

By the time the last surviving challenger understood there was no path around her, Tomoe had already reached the seat.

The throne accepted her and the fifth pillar of light erupted.

Sylas barely looked. His attention had already shifted downward toward Fanelei and the Spirit Beast Race Emperors gathered below, all of whom still appeared frozen beneath the influence of the Sanctum. The effect had looked convincing from a distance, but with his eyes focused on them now, one small inconsistency became impossible to ignore.

Fanelei wasn’t frozen at all. She was pretending.