Chapter 734: Solution
The sound of bullets echoed through the air, but the swift movement of a shadow of violet seemed to cut through them all.
Sylas directly ignored bullets that came from handguns. They glanced off and crashed against his Scorpion Warlord Armor, unable to make the slightest dent.
His base Constitution was 760. With his Flesh Mastery Scorpion Warlord Armor, it was 2760. With the Scorned Wraps, it was over 5500... and that didn't include the 1500 Defense he gained from his Glass Aether skin.
Normal guns were unable to harm him.
Rifle and sniper bullets certainly could...
If they could touch him.
Sylas was worse than a moving target. One might want to call him as fluid as water and as free as wind. But even nature wasn't so erratic.
Despite moving full speed in one direction, Sylas seemed capable of stopping on a dime, abruptly changing his target. Sometimes it would be to the complete opposite direction, but most often it would seemingly be entirely random.
If one looked at the battlefield from above, it would be possible to draw jagged lines of violet through the darkness, its sharp edges denoting yet another casualty.
Every time Sylas changed directions, another shadow would fall.
He wasn't ruthless in his strikes, most maintaining at least one breath. But whether they would be able to move even within several months would be entirely dependent on just how willing the Grimblades would be to put the necessary resources up for them.
BANG!
Sylas' head ducked, reacting to the pull of a trigger instead of a bullet in the air.
His visualization encompassed the entire battlefield, timing the aim and trigger-pull of every man and woman present.
He pressed a palm into the ground as a balance and swept his leg out, knocking a shadow off balance.
With a flex of his torso, his hips spun and his legs followed, raising into the air as he balanced on a single hand.
His tail whipped out at the same time, crashing against the bullet of a handgun as his heel cracked against the side of a shadow.
BANG!
Sylas's arm flexed and his head almost touched the ground as he sent himself flying upward.
His arm should have only had enough Strength to send himself up a few meters at most. But when his telekinesis activated, he soared up to over 10 meters before he righted himself in the air, sending out a meteor shower of punches.
A greenish Glass Aether shaped into fists rained down from above.
Sylas' body vanished into a storm of ice-blue sand just as three sniper bullets ripped through his position.
Appearing on the ground, he had already appeared behind a man, his gaze pulsing with a malevolent light as his arms wrapped around the shadow's neck.
Pa. Pa. Pa.
The man's body convulsed as bullets ripped through him, but the sound of his neck snapping followed quickly after and didn't sound much different from the echo of bullets in the air.
Sylas' tail wrapped around the shadow's ankle, ripping the latter out from his own arms and sending him swinging backward.
His intention dulled the active abilities of the Scorned Wraps for just long enough for the shadow to block another hail of bullets and then burst into a poof of ash.
Sylas' gaze flashed as he pulled on an ability he very rarely used.
Winter's Edge.
The fall of snow in the air suddenly became a sharpened hail.
<Glass Prism Art> and <Glass Edge> activated at once, the latter coming from a pull on Semi- Fusion.
CHI! CHI! CHI! CHI! CHI!
Sylas stood in the center of a rolling storm of blades.
Blood flew as cyclones of snow ripped the remaining shadows apart.
One after another, they collapsed.
BANG!
A final bullet hit Sylas' chest, but he only looked down casually as his armor rippled just the slightest bit, dispersing the impact across his body.
The coldness in Sylas' eyes only deepened. He turned away from the group, then with slow steps, he continued toward the Grimblade family compound.
...
Lucius stood at one end of the Grimblade family's personal airstrip, his jaw clenched so tightly that its muscles spasmed.
Around him, there were several guards standing, but it didn't make him feel any safer. For some reason, the weight on his chest was only growing.
He didn't expect that Sylas would ever dare to go so far. Whether it was because of his family or just the sheer danger of it all, it seemed like the absolute most foolish thing to do.
And if he was going to do it... then why wouldn't he have done so when they last met? Why would he wait until now to start his revenge?
Could it really be he had heard what was happening with his family and felt that the final straw had already broken the camel's back?
At that moment, Lucius' vision blurred and he found that at some unknown time, a man wreathed in an illusory violet armor had appeared at the other end of the airstrip.
He walked forward slowly, every step like another hammer on Lucius' chest.
"Raise your weapons." Lucius said, his voice still surprisingly calm, a far cry from the true state of his heart.
Where were they? Why hadn't they come with Sylas' family yet? What was going on?
...
"You're really going to let this happen?" A voice echoed in Mortimer's office once again.
"And what would you have me do, exactly?" Mortimer replied, the smile in his eyes having
long vanished.
"Kill him."
"And how would you suggest I do that?"
"Bring out the weapons."
"You want me to unveil our trump cards for the sake of a single child who's already lost his
way?"
"You will lose control of the other vassals like this."
"Lucius' actions would have lost us more."
"And your solution is to let him die?"
"He won't necessarily die." Mortimer replied indifferently. "Regardless, when the time
comes for me to step out of this office, the boy will dearly pay for his choice today."