Sylas sensed the change before it came. It was a sort of intuition, but his mind remained focused. This world was entirely too unpredictable for him to relax. Stats were only one part of the equation.
There were still Skills, Comprehensions, Gene Talents, and even treasures to take account of. This man had only just casually used a Skill just now, or what felt like a Skill-adjacent, and yet he had been forced to use one of his trump cards to counter it. If he got serious, Sylas might truly be finished.
Even so, he only became more calm as the runes continued to flutter and flare out around him. Sylas realized that this person likely had an ability not much different from his own Enchanted Scholar. Not only could this help him see through what he might do in advance, but it might also help him out in the future.
Focused and unperturbed, Sylas watched as Azrael's blade began to glow with a fierce light and the air shuddered. The blade seemed to multiply, illusory ghost forms of it separating from the main body and forming clones. When the man walked forward, the sword had already formed over a dozen shadows, each one looming with menace. Suddenly, they rushed toward Sylas so quickly that it seemed like he couldn't react.
The man moved at the same time, thrusting out. The sword was overlaid with a spiraling darkness that made it look more lance than sword. Everything came crashing down at once, and it was impossible for Sylas to react to them all. He would either be skewered by the illusory swords or impaled by the lance-sword.
His green irises flashed as the Aether around him continued to accumulate. However, Azrael's pupils couldn't help but constrict when it seemed that Sylas wasn't going to make any attempt to dodge at all. Instead, it looked as though he was rushing toward the attacks like a moth to a flame, without a care for his life or pain at all.
He took a hard step to the side, sweeping into the illusory blades, but it was clear that there was a hint of shock in Azrael's eyes nonetheless, and it was soon proven why. The illusory blades went right through Sylas' body as though they weren't there at all, and he sidestepped out of the way of the coming lance.
From the very beginning, he had already seen through the fact that there was nothing to worry about. The swords were nothing more than illusions in an attempt to get him to overextend himself or trade injury for survival.
Unfortunately for Azrael, Sylas had already seen through it the moment the runes took shape.
The lance tore into the tree that had been right behind Sylas, and Azrael felt that his wrist was shaken, and he couldn't help but be taken aback. What? The power of his strike should have been far more than this, so why did it feel like he had lost some edge?
Azrael had no idea that when Sylas activated , he had already likewise activated the second of the two Skills he had stored away.
[Voice of a King (FF+) (Skill)]
[No Law can bind the King. Limits? The Basilisk King has none. It shatters them with its Will alone]
[When facing an enemy of weaker Will, you suppress them. Over the course of the battle, depending on the disparity, your stats increase]
An extremely powerful Skill that not only suppressed an enemy and weakened their stats, but increased yours as well. Why was Sylas so focused on dodging and keeping his life? It was because he could feel working. The effect of Azrael's Charisma was plummeting, and the Speed of his blades was likewise only becoming easier and easier for Sylas to track.
Azrael's expression darkened. This time, he was truly enraged. How had such a Skill been used on him without him even noticing? The only explanation was that the opponent's Will was truly well beyond his own, but how could that be possible?
It was the only explanation. But Comprehensions alone were rare. Ones that could target Mental stats were even rarer. Those that could impact Will were almost all at least FFF-. Just who was this Sylas?!
Aether flared from Azrael's body, but for the first time in this battle, Sylas used a Skill of his own. He poured half the Aether he had into , freezing Azrael in place as he pulled out an enormous ballista.
Azrael's expression changed, but it wasn't to one of shock; it was to disdain and derision. He finally couldn't hold back his inner thoughts at all. He let out a shout in a language that Sylas couldn't understand at all, but he still memorized the syllables nonetheless.
At that moment, a Skill emanated from Azrael's body, layering into two and rising into the skies. All the shackles on him seemed to be shattered all at once as he cut down. It was too fast, far too fast. So fast that it became clear that Azrael had never taken any of this seriously from the very beginning, and likewise making it clear that he had given up on catching Sylas alive; he just wanted him dead! There was no suspense.
The blade cut through everything in its path, slicing the ballista in half and sundering everything behind it. Azrael exhaled an annoyed breath and made a move to sheath his sword as his eyes adjusted to the bright strike he had just levied.
However, it was right then that all his hair stood on end. He barely had time to turn around and notice that Sylas had appeared behind him at some unknown time, and a second ballista was already being fired.
It was too late. He had just cast two Skills at the same time, and his Aether channels hadn't even had time to settle down yet.
The ballista bolt tore through his chest.