Chapter 402: Tangible [Bonus]
Sylas hardly seemed to notice the change. He didn't even have the mind to pay attention to the notification. His feet just continued to press down one after another, and he had fooled himself into such a trance that he thought he was still pressing himself forward with nothing more than his Will.
However, this change caused something magical to occur nonetheless.
Aether rushed toward Sylas and the pressure on his mind decreased significantly. The swirling winds around him were rebuffed faster and faster, and his Will-infused telekinesis seemed to begin to move on its own.
Тар. Тар. Тар.
One foot after another.
Sylas began to subconsciously move forward, but his pace didn't increase to a surging one. Instead, he went from more of a lumbering gait to a steady upward trajectory, walking like any well-trained person would up the stairs.
Another foot, then another, then a third.
Again and again, he cycled through his mind.
WHOO! WHOO!
The wind whipped around him, but soon, something odd began to happen. It was rebuffed before it could hit his skin. Or, rather, it looked as though it had been parried, wrapping around the barrier of his body instead of slicing into it like it normally would.
The icy winds howled, but like blades against armor, they glanced off again and again, the burning light in Sylas' eyes growing deeper, stronger.
Тар. Тар. Тар.
It was a steady rhythm that only became more solid as time continued onward. The winds were growing harsher, but Sylas' Will seemed to be growing stronger at an even faster pace.
Тар. Тар. Тар.
Sylas could finally feel a scorching pain in his throat. Before, too much of his body had grown numb due to the cold, and he was bordering on feeling a needle-like pain in his body instead. If that happened, he would probably end up losing a few limbs to the icy wind.
But his body was slowly beginning to heat up again, the large amounts of Aether beginning to follow the cadence of Sylas' comprehension, slowly combating the damage to his body.
Ironically, this made the pain worse. Or more accurately, he could feel his fatigue more clearly.
No longer on the brink of a hazy death, his body began to send him signals to stop. His heart was beating out of his chest and every breath felt like swallowing smoke.
Тар. Тар. Тар.
He had been relying on Winter's Edge too much, pushing his body to its very limits time and time again. The number of Transmuted Pills had already almost been entirely used up, and that scalding pain in his lungs was only becoming worse.
Тар. Тар. Тар.
But he pressed on. A foot... another foot... a third foot...
His face was expressionless, his body moving like it was pre-programmed, and the only part of him that seemed even the slightest bit human at this moment were his eyes.
Deep and unfathomable, flickering with the waning light of his life, he protected it with what Will he had. He cared for it, nurturing it, allowing some hints of that hidden fury in his chest to pool toward it.
Тар. Тар. Тар.
He wanted nothing more than to control his own destiny. It was the reason he clicked [Yes] to the Trial, it was the reason he had continuously put his life on the line, it was the reason he was unwilling to focus on anything other than taking another step.
Тар. Тар. Тар.
His views, his scope, they were wider than anyone else's. He didn't just want to control the Grimblades, he wanted to be free of Earth's powers entirely. He didn't just want to dominate Earth, he wanted to crush the Sylphs. He didn't just want to dominate an E-Grade Race, he wanted to be free and unfettered even in the face of those they could only bow to.
Тар. Тар. Тар.
Goals... aspirations... he couldn't say that he had a solid grasp of what any of them would be. Every day, he learned more about the person he was, and he realized just how much of his true self had been repressed by the bounds of Earth's rules and regulations.
Rules and regulations... how many more of those were oppressing him?
The Grimblade Lineage in his blood, the mutated Runes of Earth, the tampered with Summoning of his home...
Everywhere he looked, there was more red tape, more powerful individuals to stand in his way, more danger lurking around the corner just waiting and eager to slap him back down into
his place.
Тар. Тар. Тар.
And then there was him. Maybe he was the biggest culprit of them all...
With his own rules, his own arbitrary regulations, his own... Discipline.
But that still felt different to him.
What he hated wasn't the fact rules existed... he hated the fact they weren't all decided by
himself.
Тар. Тар. Тар.
He could put his body through the cruelest of tortures, withstand the most grueling pain and
savage psychological impacts...
So long as it was his choice.
No one could stop him from putting one foot after another.
Тар. Тар. Тар.
Not the Grimblades. Not those alien races. Not the government. Not Legacy. Not this damned
cold wind.
Тар. Тар. Тар.
Sylas raised his foot for a fourth time, ready to begin the cycle again, but he hit empty air, stumbling forward.
His body was so weak that his knee crashed into the ice-cold ground, sending a spike of pain all the way up his spine. For a moment, he even thought that he had shattered his kneecap.
BOOM!
A dense aura radiated out from Sylas in all directions.
[Title Upgraded]
[A Blazing Will > A Tangible Will]
[Your Will is truly one of a kind. While immature and still growing, it carves out its place in
the world. Continue to forge it, young man]
[+30 Will]
[+30% Will]
The blazing flame in Sylas' eyes suddenly solidified, becoming a hidden light within. In that moment, it looked as though his gaze truly glowed.