Chapter 379: Game
'Sylphs...?'
This was a first. It seemed that this Dungeon was referring to a humanoid race. Did that make it different from the other Dungeons that he had seen?
The Level requirements were also insane, especially considering the Entry Limit was 10.
The recommended stats and Levels factored in the number of entries for sure, Sylas had confirmed this after the Basilisk King's Reign Dungeon. If this Dungeon only asked for one person, the recommended Level would certainly be closer to 30. It was only because you could bring so much help that the requirement was only 20.
[Who are the Sylphs?]
[The Sylphs are an E-Grade Race of beings that favor the Path of the Mancer. They tend to be born with Gene affinities that give them great control over the elements.]
'E-Grade Race?'
Sylas' gaze flickered.
[Name: Sylas Grimblade]
[Species: Human (F)]
He still didn't quite understand what his Species was. All he knew was that whenever he ran into a stat or Gene Limit, it would be mentioned.
His rudimentary understanding of it was that once one reached Level 50, there would be a chance to evolve to a higher Level. If one succeeded in becoming Level 51, then you could become an E-Grade existence.
That said, an E-Grade Race sounded like a completely different thing. Did it mean that Sylphs were born Level 51? That didn't seem to make much sense considering the Dungeon only required him to be Level 20. So it must refer to something else.
Sylas didn't really want to waste the Genes on such a question, but in the end his curiosity got the best of him.
'I see... That's a bit... troublesome.'
The overall Grade of a Race was decided by relative potential. An E-Grade Race was one that would have a relatively easier time of reaching the E-Grade compared to those of an F-Grade Race. As such, on average, the number of E-Grade existences among them would be substantially more than lower level Races, and by extension, they would have a better chance of striking at the D-Grade and beyond as well.
It wasn't a hard cap, but... it could be depending on the situation. Unless one could break the mold of their Race, you would be very likely to be stuck in said Race's overall Grade.
By the same token, higher relative Grade Races also tended to have much greater Strength at the same Level compared to lesser relative Grade Races.
Sylas didn't need to ask the Madness Key to know his own relative Grade because he had been staring at it ever since he came to his world.
[Species: Human (F)]
It was right there in bold font and it wasn't going anywhere.
Of course, it would change if he managed to become Level 51. But unless he could change it while he was still in the F-Grade, whatever challenge he faced in crossing over into E-Grade would be especially tall.
Sylas stood in silence.
At first, he was only planning to enter this Dungeon for the sake of gaining whatever was on the inside in hopes that it would help to strengthen him. But staring at it now...
He wanted to tear it apart.
Sylas took a step forward and vanished.
No one knew that a single young man had entered a 10 Entry Limit Level 20 Dungeon on his own. There were too few people in the Arctic Circle, and even fewer would dare to even think about facing off against the horde of beasts around the lake.
However, what everyone did notice was that Sylas' Merits had ticked up again.
He was the only one on the list to begin with, and somehow he had already made the lead larger.
Sylas' vision spun. When he could finally see around him, even he couldn't help but be taken off guard.
It was a quiet, somber environment. There was a bonfire ahead and there were around another dozen people around him facing off against an old man whose features were difficult to see because he stood behind the bonfire. However, the way the light of the fire flickered across his features made him look particularly sinister.
As for the "people" around him, they didn't seem to be people at all. At least not in the normal human sense.
They did look like humans, albeit a little bit too perfect, almost like models with an additional layer of photoshop. What really made Sylas feel odd was the fact their skin gave off a bluish glow. While their underlying skin tone was more normal, they were definitely giving off an unnatural light.
'Azrael?'
Suddenly, something clicked for Sylas.
He remembered the first time he met Azrael, he also felt that he had an odd blue tinge to him. But back then, Azrael had been so powerful that Sylas had mistaken it for his Aether or maybe
even his aura.
But now he was sure...
Azrael should be a Sylph.
All at once, several gazes landed on Sylas. The murderous intent was palpable.
"A human."
It was hard for Sylas to tell who had spoken. There wasn't much light outside of the bonfire, and because he had been using his visualization, there was a sudden distortion in his senses that originated from over a dozen separate locations at once.
His mind almost felt like it was being ripped apart and he was forced to retract it. The pain didn't stop his mind from working quickly. The moment he felt such hostility, he activated Madness. His vision hadn't even cleared before there was several roars of pain.
At least half the Sylphs fell to the ground, clutching their heads. Blood streamed down their noses and their bodies convulsed.
By this point, Sylas had recovered. His mind was far more robust than any of them had given him credit for, and the activation of Madness had clearly rebuffed whatever secondary probes
they had in mind.
However, Sylas didn't have the mind to care for this because he felt that he had well and truly screwed up this time.
There wasn't just over a dozen people here, there were exactly 21. Or more accurately... there had been 20 until he showed up. Just enough to match two perfect entry limits.
Had he just entered a team game by himself?