Chapter 815 Fifth
The gurgling that came from Veron's throat chilled the heart. No one knew or understood what had happened—except Sylas himself.
The abilities of Madness were powerful, extraordinarily so. When matched with a Shaping Will and a Will stat that was almost 20,000 when Madness was activated—nearly at his Comprehension Limit of 19,999—what chance did a mere Drill Sergeant have at resisting?
Sylas could tell that Veron was just a lackey. Whether it was him or the alchemist, they were merely cogs in Gregory's plans. This was the real reason why Sylas hadn't cared to kill them immediately, like he had the former.
But since they chose to overstep their bounds once again, Sylas chose to oblige.
Sylas held out a hand, his green eyes radiating with a deathly cold as he aimed it toward the front lines.
He must have been over 200 meters away, and despite all the increases to his strength, the range of his visualization was still half that. It was impossible to increase it much further unless his Luck also improved.
But that didn't matter to Sylas in the slightest.
Olivia, Morgan, the Twin Moon Healers, and even Sunniva along with Brant all looked toward Sylas at the same time, as though in anticipation of something.
And he didn't disappoint.
Chi.
A dozen blades of Glass appeared in a single instant.
Then they doubled.
Then doubled once more.
Sparks of electricity danced off their edges, and Arcane Storm surged once again, Runes spontaneously forming across their bodies.
Sylas didn't even have to pour his Level 10 Aether into them. It was as though he had become a God in this space below, his strength peeling across the skies in a commanding cadence that forced even the laws of Earth into obedience.
And then the blades rocketed forward.
It was a one-sided massacre.
Everywhere the blades passed, holes were ripped through skin and armor, many not shattering apart until after they had already taken more than three lives.
The holes in them sparked and then…
BANG!
They shattered from the inside out, unruly arcs of peeling electricity like snaking wires of cut power cord lines slapped against the ground in an endless torrent.
The army continued to rush forward like moths to a flame, having completely lost their minds.
But Sylas killed them even faster than they surged.
[Glassvolt Prism Art] bloomed with untold strength under the presence of Arcane Storm, the former casually forming large amounts of Glassvolt Aether into solid blades, and the latter spontaneously forming Runes of lightning.
The world churned, and cries of agony spilled over.
They died in droves, falling so fast and so fiercely that most of them didn't even have time to register who was killing them.
Sylas hardly moved at all, the casual elevation of his arm being the only indication that he was involved in this at all.
Down below, Olivia's mouth hung open, Morgan's gaze flickered wildly, and Brant… well, Brant wasn't sure what to do with himself. The shieldman had been fighting on the front lines for as long as he could remember, the last two days having become a blur…
Only for there to suddenly be no enemies left in his immediate vicinity at all.
Sylas finally took a step, his figure vanishing as he landed on the ground in a heap of sparking silvery-white lightning. Crystal shards fell around him in a delicate rain, and suddenly, two Runes solidified over his shoulders.
He reached back, pulling at the air in front of both of them with clenched fists.
A long line of slithering, pulsing, convulsing silvery-white lightning came from both 20 Foundation Runes. Soon, a pair of whips over 20 feet in length manifested, and Sylas flicked out his wrist.
BANG!
A wave of two dozen warriors was blasted to ash.
Sylas pulled back and struck forward with the second in one fluid motion.
He unleashed a killing spree the likes of which the world had likely never seen… not yet in this Summoning, at the very least.
No one could match up to his stats, the shocking weight of his Aether powered by his Runes.
His Mature Aether might have only been Level 10, but with his Foundation and perfection of the Runes supporting it, it might as well have been beyond Level 30.
There was a chilly, cold relentlessness to Sylas' savagery. He didn't seem to count them as human lives at all, unleashing a torrential pursuit that snuffed out lives like a smoked-out anthill.
Sylas' palms suddenly opened, and the two whips flared out. They landed on the ground in an intertwining heap, pushing, pulling, and twisting into one another before they suddenly burst apart, forming a sea of Glassvolt and ripping everything in its path to shreds.
With a wave of his hands, two warriors wreathed in bronze flames surged toward Sylas. Their skulls slapped into his palms, and with a squeeze, Sylas shattered their heads to pieces.
Sylas took another step forward, a rain of arrows that took shape in a hail falling from above froze in place beneath a mighty push of his telekinesis.
He grabbed each one with his telekinesis, his mind splitting four dozen ways and reversing their track.
They flew faster, stronger, Glassvolt Will wrapping around them in a pulse of Aetherflow.
They tore through the throats of their launchers. Even until the last moments, not one archer could understand what had happened to them.
BANG!
An enormous boulder was slung out from a trebuchet. It was a war machine that had yet to be used a single time in the battle, but maybe out of desperation, it was forcefully launched this time.
The stone within must have been massive, a far cry from what Sylas' telekinesis was able to handle right now. And yet, there was an eerie calm to Sylas nonetheless.
He raised a palm, and a pulse went out.
And then a second.
And then a third.
And a fourth.
The Gluttony Seed stirred as the fifth went out.
And like that, the smooth grey ball…
Ground to a halt in the skies.