Every step forward, Sylas felt his body being refined again, and then again, and then again.
His claws were growing sharper, his skin tougher, his hair more durable. Every heartbeat felt more layered, more exaggerated, more powerful—and yet slower at the same time. Power surged through him like liquid nitrogen exploding against pooling lava, currents roaring and pulsing in wave after wave.
And then he slammed up against the wall of an A-Grade Human Simioid.
His canines grew a hint more prominent, the hair that covered his chest and arms growing just a hint thicker. His head of hair was practically a nest of steel wires, his body filed with coiled, iron-like muscle filaments that layered atop one another again and again.
Power surged, his heart beating so hard and heavy that it felt like it might explode at any moment.
It was too much. His Royal Hero Line wanted to break through, but his body was too limited.
Even in the state of pain he was experiencing, Sylas understood what his weakness was now.
The Human Simioid... this was its limit.
It couldn't progress to the stage of an A-Grade Race because it didn't have such a foundation. The Great Apes of Earth were great, and they had exceptional potential. But... They were still far weaker than the Clypsians and Dogons in potential, and they were far weaker than the mysterious First Race of Earth. They were only about on par with the Dino Race, and both would be limited in this way.
If Sylas had been a Clypsian or a Dogon, making it to A-Grade wouldn't have been an issue before his momentum ran to a stop. If he had been the mysterious First Race of Earth, even if his momentum ran out at A-Grade, maybe he would get exceptionally close to S-Grade, with a chance to upgrade to that level in the future.
But he hadn't had such a chance. In fact, part of him wondered if he had made a mistake back then. Had he been too cautious in not choosing the First Race of Earth? Had he pigeonholed himself by choosing the path of a Great Ape instead of another?
It always felt like every time he took a large step forward, there was always something else waiting to knock him back down. And right now, when he had a chance to ride this momentum to the stage of an A-Grade Race, he was knocked back down so savagely. However, Sylas dismissed the thought, his Pride churning.
If he had taken the First Race, he would have ended up with different problems. Not to mention the danger of it ali—he had observed Alex all this time.
Alex should be much stronger than he was, but he was struggling.
Why? Because he wasn't compatible with the First Race of Earth. They weren't Humans. Alex had to change a lot about himself first before he could take this final step.
If it wasn't one issue, it would be another.
This was the way of this world. It was why that arrogant bastard of the Scorpion Emperor Lineage could look down on him with "pity" and "understanding," not caring about whether he was infuriated or not.
To the people of this world, your birth decided too much about how you'd end up. There was no breaking free of it.
Even within Genes, there were tiers of difficulty. It was easy enough to draw a Legendary Strength Gene, but if not for his Grimblade Lineage drawing a Legendary Gene on its own, evolving under the influence of his Royal Hero Line, he wouldn't have been able to draw it on his own without at least two or three days of effort.
It really looked as though he was just going to have to accept his fate. There would still be time in the future to change things further later on.
Sylas was about to exhale and let go, but something inside of him... really didn't want to. Pride seeped into the deepest depths of his soul and churned.
Giving up because he was inadequate filled him with the very same disgust.
Tendrils of Pride were ingrained into the very depths of his bones, even intertwining with his Royal Hero Line and his new Grimblade Bloodline. Then, it all capped off at his Will itself, which moved with an emerald-gold hue through his body.
There was a way. There had to be a way.
Time slowed for Sylas so much it practically fell to a crawl, his focus becoming so unprecedented he felt more pain from it than the rearrangement of his body itself.
And that was when it clicked.
Fine. If he couldn't be free of the system just yet, then he would ride it into the ground until the day it was no longer of use to him.
THRUM.

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