Sylas felt a suffocating pressure even from so far away—so much so that he didn’t dare to take a single step forward. It wasn’t a matter of fear; that wasn’t what he was feeling right now. It wasn’t that he might die if he went forward—it was that he would certainly die.
The gap between himself and death right now was the breadth of a single step. He knew that the moment he took just one more step forward, he would enter the range of something he couldn’t fathom.
‘D-Grade. There’s a D-Grade overlooking the encampment…’
A D-Grade—someone who had crossed the Level 100 barrier.
It was said that every Grade was divided into a Tier of its own, and that much was true. But from his research, Sylas had also seen that there was something particularly special about the Level 100 barrier.
It was almost like F-Grade and E-Grade were two smaller steps prepped for the large leap that was D-Grade.
Even the weakest D-Grade in the Skai 11331 Galaxy had likely been on the Titan Leaderboard at some point or another, even if they weren’t in the top three—or number one like Sylas had been.
Such individuals were already very difficult for Sylas to deal with while they were still in E-Grade, let alone now that they had reached D.
The gap wasn’t something that could be crossed with Sylas’ current stats or skills. And even if it could be, the difference in the quality of those stats or skills would get him killed nonetheless.
‘I haven’t run into a single Sylph all this way, but the moment I approach my likely target, this happens…’
Sylas took a breath and exhaled.
The good news? He had been right. There was an Overlord here.
The bad news? The reason he was so certain there was one was because this individual was a D-Grade monster.
Was it possible to reach D-Grade without being an Overlord? Sure, it was.
But it was impossible to do so in the Skai 11331 Galaxy, since the ceiling was already so low. Such an existence would only appear in the wider Sector.
‘What do I do?’
He couldn’t just infiltrate. If he took a step forward, the D-Grade would sense him. And even if he could mask himself, the Clypsians might not be aware that this was a prison—but the Sylphs certainly were. What kind of prison didn’t have every single inmate tagged and accounted for?
He couldn’t just go and blend in.
Sylas scanned the region with his eyes.
The first thought was to use Beacon. Maybe he could cause a beast wave and force some to act. The D-Grade likely wouldn’t have to act personally, and then Sylas could pick off another Overlord.
But there were too many problems with that approach.
For one, this was a snowy plain. The number of Serpentes that thrived in this sort of environment were few and far between. It would likely take the ones that did exist a decently long while to gather, and Sylas was sure that the Sylphs had strong monitoring abilities across the whole planet.
If such a storm of Serpentes was gathering, they would certainly realize that something was wrong at the very first sign of trouble.
‘What do I do…’
It was frustrating. He had a good plan—he knew he did. But he couldn’t execute on it because he was still too weak.
‘The Clypsians…’
The thought returned to Sylas. That was right. There was something that he might be able to take advantage of. It was just a question…
‘A gamble.’
Sylas made a decision.
Fusion.
Sylas’ skin gained a tinge of blue, his hair softening from its usual wild, mane-like form. He grew more slender, the vascularity on his arms and body becoming a bit more muted.
His eyes turned blue, and his hair became streams of flowing white. There was something a bit delicate about his appearance now that hadn’t been there before, but the calm sharpness in his eyes made it obvious that he was very much still Sylas Grimblade.
After some more thought, he stripped down and pulled on a familiar seal-skin skirt.
Then, he took a step forward.
…
Cenk’s eyes snapped open, his intent blazing. His senses swept over, a mighty, hefty sort of Will collapsing down from the skies above.
And that was when he saw it.
Sylas raced across the snowy plain, huffing and puffing for breath. There was a determination in his eyes—as though he was intent on giving his life away just for a chance to accomplish what he wanted to.
‘F-Grade?’
Cenk’s gaze swept out further, and he spotted the wreckage of a vessel—but his pupils couldn’t help but tremble.
Even in bits and pieces, he could recognize that vessel. That was the vessel of the Thryskai. Had this Clypsian stolen it?
Wait, how could an F-Grade possibly steal a Thryskai vessel? Let alone drive it all the way here?
That was a solo vessel, and it had very special requirements for use. One either had to be in the E-Grade to make use of it. Most F-Grades couldn’t even withstand intragalactic travel without a much larger vehicle to manage the pressures and environmental changes.
Of course, what Cenk didn’t know was that there was another way to benefit from the vessel as well… and that was to be a world-class Rune Master.
The thoughts and possibilities in Cenk’s mind swirled wildly, and he was about to take action when a roar came from the young man’s mouth.
Cenk’s eyes widened. “Stop him!”
He had been relaxed because Sylas was still over a kilometer away. At that distance, there was nothing an F-Grade could do. But he hadn’t thought that Sylas would start talking now.
That was trouble. The easiest way to control prisoners was to leave them in ignorance. He had planned to observe Sylas for longer, to figure out what was going on with him and decide how to act accordingly—but he was too late.
“DAMNED SYLPHS, COME OUT AND FIGHT!”