Sylas didn't reply, his Will blooming. His skin practically began to glow as though it were its own erald gem, sparks of lightning spontaneously forming in bolts and waves.
He slowly loosened his grip over his own wrist, and he clenched a fist.
The punch that followed seed to move the world itself.
BANG. BANG. BANG.
One iteration after another was shattered to pieces, and the True Sloth Disciples pupils constricted into pinholes. How—?
The punch landed on his chest.
The ti between the fist landing and the True Sloth Disciple feeling his back against the wall wasn't even a split second. It almost felt as though they had happened at the exact sa ti.
His cloak was peeled off, revealing the face of a man who would have been extraordinarily handso if not for how unkempt he was.
A streak of dried snot ca out from one nostril, his eyes practically encrusted with sleep. His lips were cracked as though they hadn't experienced moisture in a lifeti, and his face was gaunt as though he was too lazy even to eat and feed himself properly. He coughed, groaning slightly. But the groan didn't seem to be one of pain; it was instead a groan like a teen being woken up at 6 a.m. for school.
He had really wanted this to be easy. No part of him understood why Sylas was so insistent on being such a pain.
Grunting, he pulled himself up.
"How did you do that?" he complained. If Sylas killed his iterations before he could use them, it ant his real body was going to have to act. He didn't like that at all.
Sylas once again didn't reply.
"I also heard that about you Pride Disciples. Though, I'm guessing that right about now, they're all pretty pissed off. You ca out of nowhere and destroyed all of their Paths in a single go. I bet they're probably hunting you right now. No wonder you're so obsessed with getting what you can here. I don't bla you. If I had those assholes on my tail, I'd probably be a bit antsy 00."
Sylas only stared at him, and the True Sloth Disciple held his hands up.
"Right, right. Fragile ego. You're not antsy at all. Apologies, apologies. What was my mouth thinking, running like that?"
The True Sloth Disciple stood to his feet and patted his robes down.
"Tell you what. So long as you let get that Sealwright Profession, you can have everything else. Hm? How about it? Do you even have space for another Profession? I know for a fact you have at least one. That Weaver Guild is probably looking for you too, now that I think about it."
Sylas' eyes narrowed, his expression changing the slightest bit for the first ti.
This True Sloth Disciple recognized his Runeweaver Profession.
"Oh, you don't know about them. How fascinating. How'd you end up with the Profession, then? That probably ans that one of their own gave it to you willingly, and that's probably more troubleso than if you stole it. Those people like ssing around with Karma a lot. I could give you information about them if you agree to my deal. How about it?"
The True Sloth Disciple blinked expectantly, clearly hoping Sylas would agree so that he wouldn't have to fight.
Seeing that Sylas still wasn't replying, though, he could only sigh.
"I really don't understand. You can feel the difference. That's why you're not attacking right now and listening to ramble instead. You want to attack first so you can try to find a way to exploit a weakness. What is the point of struggling if you already know the end result?"
“I do know the end result."
Sylas finally spoke.
“In that case—"
"Your death.”
The True Sloth Disciple groaned again, but a fist had already slamd into his gut once again.
Coughing, spittle flew from the Sloth's mouth, and he crashed into the wall again.
"What did I do to deserve this?" he grumbled, grabbing at his stomach. This ti, he had to admit... it hurt... a lot.
It seed that Sylas had held back the first ti, and it seed that he was holding back even now.
Was it Pride?
Typical.
As expected of a fool of the Pride Path. Just because the Sloth wasn't taking it seriously, Sylas didn't want to take it seriously either.
Unfortunately for the Sloth, he was very much incorrect about Sylas. Sylas was no normal disciple of the Pride Path.
If he had an opportunity to kill the Sloth right here and now, he would take it. As for the fact the Sloth wasn't taking things seriously—what did that have to do with him?
To Sylas, this young man's death was inevitable. Who cared if it was after a long, drawn- out fight, or imdiate?
The real reason Sylas was holding back wasn't sothing the Sloth was privy to, and he didn't have to be privy to it either.
"Fine..." the Sloth grumbled again, slowly picking himself up once more. "If you want to fight, let's fight."
The eyes of the Sloth beca a bit dull, his shoulders slouching and his feet dragging along the ground.
CLANG.
In one mont, he seed no different from a normal human, and in the next, his skin began to sag, flas of silvery-grey forming in his eye sockets in place of eyes, as his nails grew to claws that dragged across the cast iron of the room... Leaving deep grooves in it with a casual swipe.
"Don't say that I didn't warn you..." he grumbled again.
His body swayed, and he seed to move and yet remain in place at the sa ti. In a flash, Sylas found his claws already nearing his chest.
BANG.
Another fist landed in the sa spot on his chest, sending the Sloth flying once again.
“I would advise you try another thod. If you insist on trying to bend reality around , we can end this right here and now."
Sylas raised a hand, his rises flickering with an erald tesseract. Newest update provided by novel⁂fire
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