[Wave Ten - Infernal Grove]
[Final Wave]
—
'Infernal Grove…'
Again, there was something about the name that spoke to Sylas, but for very different reasons. This time, he didn't feel like he had some great advantage to take care of, but rather that this peculiar Mancer Path…
Others who didn't speak a language like Ancient Ithkuil might not understand what they were seeing, but Sylas himself sensed it immediately.
The image of an ancient tree burning in the fires of hell popped into his mind.
It was a fascinating dichotomy, two halves of Aether Mancy that should have been completely separate from one another. Wood should have been suppressed by fire, and fire should suffocate wood. But they came together in a balance.
'Fire… Wood… Poison…'
It was like a reflection of his Glassvolt Mancer Path, but taken in a completely new and different direction.
'Fascinating. The wood is like its own representation of the earth element, the fire being its ice, and the poison forcing them together… the poison makes the wood act more like metal, and the fire stimulates it all…'
Usually, wood could only bloom so much after being burnt to complete ash. It could grow because of the influence of fire, but not in the presence of fire.
Somehow, this Mancy Path allowed the wood to tap into the rejuvenation aspects of a forest burnt to ash while the fires were still blazing, giving it a great deal of sturdiness and vitality.
It made the wood endless, relentless, almost like the undying flame that burned through it.
Sylas grasped all of this just from the title of the Final Wave alone, and it made him wonder… if the system were to title his Glassvolt Aether Path into a Wave like this one… what name would it choose? What secrets would it unfurl before him?
Lost in his thoughts, Sylas hardly seemed to react as one treant with crowns of black-red fire dancing in the crowns of their canopies appeared after another.
Their stats dwarfed 25,000 or so, but this was hardly the worst part of them. Sylas could tell even without looking that killing them wasn't so simple. From the title of their Wave alone, he knew they were probably worse than undead.
And yet… he was still lost in thought.
'Just what would they title it… what does it represent…'
And then Sylas' heart shook.
'Throne of Glassvolt Heir…'
Radiant sparks of lightning triggered in Sylas' eyes. The bolts of silvery blue suddenly became emerald arcs instead.
'I understand…'
—
[Glassvolt (Common)] (Progenitor)
[The war of earth and sky has been fought for countless millennia. Those that worship the avatars of both are endless, each one leading crusades in their name. But in a distant past, the earth and skies were never such rivals… but rather existed in a resonant hum of comradery and balance]
[+1250% Intelligence]
—
In a single bound, Sylas' Glassvolt Comprehension crossed from Legendary Mastery to Progenitor Mastery. And then it took another leap from Fragmented to Common, evolving completely from its very roots.
—
[First Class Unlocked]
[Unlock Difficulty Modified]
[10,000,000 Silver Genes Rewarded]
—
It all seemed to flow smoothly from one to the next.
Sylas read the description of his Glassvolt Comprehension again, and then watched the system translate it to Ancient Ithkuil. There was a rhythmic hum that came from his chest, an understanding he hadn't quite grasped until just now.
The arcs of emerald sparked around him, Glass reflecting the green of his eyes taking shape.
He should have seen it before. The Glass Pinecone had told him everything he needed to know. When he saw those two paths, the depths were obvious.
On one hand, there was a Glass that reflected the hopes and dreams of the people of his world. On the other, there was Glass that reflected the ambition in his heart and the dominance he sought after.
He had chosen the latter.
What he never considered was what it meant to add lightning to that equation. A part of him didn't even consider them to be related at all.
'They were never rivals?' Sylas thought to himself. 'How could they be rivals when one was always suppressing the other? When one was always the dome, the glass ceiling that one could see through and yet never touch?'
The description was supposed to be warm, but Sylas could feel that same sneering laugh in it, almost like a cute pat on the head you gave a child when they tried their best but failed anyway.
If this Infernal Grove carried the meaning of life and rejuvenation, Sylas understood his own path more intimately than ever before now.
There had been two before him.
In one, he harmonized with the earth and the skies, accepting the strengths of both and reaching a perfect balance.
In the other… he stabilized the earth with the steadiness of his stance, grasping at the skies with an open palm and ripping down its arrogance. He took control of the writhing bolts and molded them into his very palms.
Emerald lightning sparked with greater and greater fervor.
Sylas was so lost in his breakthrough that he didn't even seem to notice the first treant appear before him, so distracted that all of his defensive lines had already collapsed beyond repair and creatures impossibly more powerful than his own army were already swarming his city.
But then the treant struck down toward him, its blackened claws leaving streaks of flames in the air that crackled with heat… heat that Sylas couldn't even begin to feel.
All he could feel was a cool chilliness, a reminder of the loneliness of his path.
He exhaled, just the slightest hint of that chill emitting from his lips in a foggy crackle.
The treant froze in place, icicles that formed like emerald gems coating its body until it was swallowed whole.
A spark of lightning fell from the skies like a green giant's foot, smashing it to pieces.
From the start, Sylas didn't even move…
But, black scales had begun to form across his skin.
Fusion.