Sylas hurriedly wiped his face, not having ti to care that this blood showed no signs of evaporating beneath the oppressive heat. In fact, he found that the empty space at the bottom of the volcano had grown larger.
Thanks to the cubes of tarock, there was so reprieve from the constant oppression of the lava. But it was still in a relatively small region.
Now, however, it was even larger. There was a great pressure pushing out, and it only took Sylas a mont to realize that it...
'Telekinesis!'
Sylas' pupils trembled.
Just how strong did one's telekinesis have to be to push away this much lava? You didn't just have to carry the weight of the surrounding lava, but all of the lava above as well. To say it was millions upon millions of kilograms of weight didn't do it justice.
However, Sylas barely had ti to dwell on this before he locked eyes on the current state of the Basilisk King.
If it wasn't for the fact Sylas could feel their connection, he wouldn't have thought that this was his contract at all.
The Basilisk King didn't have more than a few sparse scales remaining on its body. The rest of it was a mass of flesh with bone sticking out in several locations.
It writhed there on top of the Aether Stone Mine, its skin bubbling up and even foaming in so locations as though blood far too hot for it to manage was rushing through its veins.
When Sylas saw this, his expression sank.
Much like with all things related to his Serpentes Contracts, he knew exactly what was happening.
The evolution hadn't failed, it had succeeded. But the Basilisk King still wasn't able to take that final step, not because there weren't enough resources, but because its mind wasn't strong enough.
Its Will was too weak.
Sylas stood there, watching in silence as the Basilisk King struggled. He could feel that its blazing motivation from earlier had already dulled to a barely perceptible ember.
It was easy to have motivation before rubber t road. But many shied away when they realized just how difficult things were.
This ti, however, Sylas wasn't even sure he could bla the Basilisk King.
Was this even sothing that he could deal with?
Not only had the Basilisk King basically had all its skin peeled away in such a forceful manner, but it felt like it was burning from the inside out.
Sylas was about to reach out to put the Basilisk King in the Hibernation Realm to save it, but then he hesitated.
If he did that, the Basilisk King would be healed, but would that fix anything?
No.
There was no sense of awareness in the Hibernation Realm, which was why Sylas wasn't sure if Nosphaleen could both be inside of it and take part in her Trial.
This was to say that if the Basilisk King was suffering because of a ntal block, it wouldn't be able to fix it in the Hibernation Realm. If anything, it would beco entirely useless because Sylas would never be able to take it out to battle again.
Sylas hesitated again.
He might not be able to take it out to battle, but he would still be able to fuse with it, probably. He could probably also level it up from there if he ran into more Mature Aether as well.
All things considered, that was a better outco than the Basilisk King dying right here and now. The losses would be too great.
After all, Sylas had just spent a Silver Grade Treasure and an outer-world FFF - Gene Core. If the Basilisk King just died, then his losses wouldn't be small.
As great as the gains here were, Legendary Path Treasures weren't things that you could just buy on the outside market. It was no less difficult to find on the open market than tarock.
The mournful cries of the Basilisk King continued to echo and it seed like it would run to the end of its life very soon.
Sylas was about to make a move when a flash of inspiration hit him.
His Beast Totem appeared high above his head once again, but this ti, instead of buffing the Basilisk King, he used Beacon.
At that mont, sothing inside the Basilisk King stirred.
The call of a master spread across a six-kiloter range, and the Basilisk King was obviously no different. It could sense an arrogant gaze looking down on it from above, presenting it with a suffocating presence that beckoned it forward.
For so reason... that feeling pissed the Basilisk King off.
It was in so much pain. Who was calling it now? And why was the presence so powerful?
The Basilisk King reached out to Sylas, seemingly wanting so help. It was trying to focus on saving itself, but now so much of its mind was occupied with fighting off this call. How could it fight against it and save itself at the sa ti?
It was impossible.
But it was coldly rebuffed by Sylas.
The Basilisk King was struck with terror. It couldn't open its eyes or even control its body very much, but it could still see the vision of Sylas very well...
Because it had seen it before.
That single glance before Sylas turned his back on it, leaving it to.
The mind of the Basilisk King returned to that day it was left with Grin... how that knife felt slicing into the gaps between its scales, that light smile as he carved it up as though it was already at on his platter.
The anger the Basilisk King had forgotten bubbled back up.
This wasn't the first ti it had suffered such humiliation, it wasn't the second ti either, it wasn't even the third.
Ti and ti again. The sa weakness, the sa loss of face, the sa humiliating dereliction of duty to the blood running through its veins.
That was when the Basilisk King felt it.
Rage.
It wasn't rage coming from him, but rather his bloodline.
The bubbling blood within him finally seed to pierce through the veil separating them.
At that mont, the Basilisk King could hear the fury of its Ancestors. It was still faint, and most of it was muffled through countless layers of complexities and seals...
But it finally heard it.
And that fury wasn't toward the humiliation the Basilisk King had faced, or toward the voice
distracting it from saving itself...
But rather aid toward it.
Its Ancestors were furious with him.
The Basilisk King shook from head to tail, a radiant light suddenly pulsing out from its body.
It was the feeling of expectations being let down, the feelings of the weight of a Lineage being placed on his shoulders, and yet having been ignored for so long.
Suddenly, the Basilisk King couldn't hear the call of Beacon anymore, or even his own mories. It could only hear the cry of his Ancestors...
Tears brimd in the Basilisk King's eyes.
He had a thought at that mont that he couldn't recall the last ti he had had...
What was his na?
He didn't even rember...
At that mont, the Basilisk King made a choice directly opposing Sylas.
He couldn't fall here.
Not for himself...
But rather his Race.
A radiant golden light spread out in all directions.
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