[Extraction is the forbidden art of dabbling on the genes of an enlightened life from a corpse, extracting extraordinary genes and racial traits from the dead...]
[Will siphoning is the same, only related to will. The reason it’s in a category all on its own is that while the principles might be similar, the adverse effects would be different.
While extraction would cause one to suffer a lifetime of cellular rejection, will siphoning might totally reconfigure the personality of the practitioner, and in eight out of ten instances, the practitioner would end up on the corrupted side.]
[Then finally there’s Binding. Binding is the act of trapping the spirit/soul/will of an enlightened life form into an item or a weapon. While doing this would make the item stronger, sometimes even elevating the grades and providing it with an evolvable feature.
The soul trapped within would slowly grow stronger while its resentment would continue to build, causing it to twist into something darker, and in nine out of ten instances, it would turn the wielder corrupt.
Items like these are called dread armaments.]
Seth slowly digested the information, pondering on the concept behind the rules. In a way, corruption had to be the enemy of all races, so it was only natural that arts that led to corruption be banned. Furrowing his brows, he asked,
"So only the extraction art doesn’t result in corruption?"
The Oracle Crystal flashed, relaying a quick response.
[Extraction doesn’t directly lead to corruption, but by integrating a gene element sourced from the cells of a fellow enlightened creature, one would suffer endless rejection due to the fact that the genes would be carrying distinct will markers of its previous user.
Not only would one feel endless pain, the immunity against the corruption given to those that are of the awakened rank and above will be rendered null, and the practitioner will be left vulnerable to the poisonous trait of corrupt essence.]
"I see..." he mused as he caressed his chin. That explanation was indeed acceptable.
"So in essence, all nine forbidden arts are practices that could directly or indirectly result in corruption," Seth said, half stating, half asking.
[Indeed, host...]
Nodding, he waved his hand, dismissing the Oracle. Holding onto that knowledge, he wondered: if this was the case, why were the Treants still practicing something so dangerous?
Something that would literally strip them of their immunity to corruption and leave them in endless pain for the rest of their lives.
"Could it be that high-grade gene skills were just that valuable? Or did they have a way to mitigate the effects?" Seth wondered, but he still couldn’t understand.
Without knowing more about the cosmos or the Treants, he couldn’t possibly come to a conclusion.
With that, while still embroiled in a series of thoughts, he drifted into slumber, his consciousness sinking into a peaceful lull of reinvigorating nothingness.
Following the biological clock, his cells entered a super hyperactive state, still undergoing continuous adaptations from all his previous battles. Him falling into slumber seemed to speed up this process.
Meanwhile, his digestive system, which was normally supposed to enter a dormant state, sped up, breaking down the Origin beast meat nutrients into nourishing waves that reinvigorated the cells and went to work repairing micro hidden internal tears and injuries.
Time flowed as the Apex mansion fell into silence, all its occupants asleep...
Then morning came, as brilliant beams of golden sunlight peeked through the horizon. Seth’s eyelids snapped open.
The slow drag that accompanied his thought process vanished due to the deep, recovering slumber.
Eyes bright, he sat up as he felt cold, refreshing waves coursing through his system. He could feel himself to be slightly stronger than before.
Staring at his now compact abs, he understood immediately. It seemed his meal from yesterday did provide surprising benefits.
"So eating Origin beasts can make one grow stronger?" he mused as he inspected his body carefully.
It seemed that aside from recovery, Origin beasts were another method to gain stats outside of killing.
He waved his finger, pulling on his status screen...
---
[Name: Seth Duskreaver
Race: Human (Bronze)
Rank: Awakened (Advanced Stage)
Class: Jack Of All Trades
Class:-
Profession:-]
[Titles: Chain Breaker, World Saint, Charmed But Unfazed, Origin Blessed, Legendary Craftsman]
[Attributes:]
Strength: 898
Speed: 778
Defense: 882
Intelligence: 949
Will: 699
Essence Unit: 72/706
Vitality: 8/799
[Class Skills:]
- Mimicry Gambit (Lvl 1)
- WildLock (Lvl 1)
[Gene Lineage: Asura King, Grand Weapon Maester]
[Gene Skills:]
Absolute Weapon Resonance (Monarch Grade)
Armageddon (Monarch Grade)
Hand of Tide (Monarch Grade)
Force Embodiment (Saint Grade)
[Willborne Skills: Chronostasis, Dimensional Strider]
[Racial Skills: Universal Adaptation!]
[Essence Effect: Oscillation, Burden of Will]
---
He smiled. Indeed, he had come a long way since he ascended ranks. Now he was at the advanced stage, though due to his dual constitution, peak stage was quite far.
Regardless, he would be surpassing normal peak-stage evolvers very soon.
Plus, he would be needing to fill up his gene skill slots. As of now, he just needed four more.
And at this stage, Seth understood that he didn’t need an attack-based ability. He needed something else.
Because if anything, having too many attack mediums would mess with his combat rhythm. Not only would it take longer to process which ability to use at a precise moment, it would also hinder his combat effectiveness if they stacked on each other.
So his plan was to find two defensive-type gene skills, and two regeneration-type gene skills — one for the body, the other for essence.
That way, his combat effectiveness would shoot through the roof.
He got to his feet and stretched. Massaging his neck, he felt his skin sticky from the waste secreted from his pores while his body reforged itself.
He could use his essence flow to get rid of it, but it wouldn’t compare to the cold, relaxing caress of water from a shower.
So quickly hopping into the shower room, he took a long, relaxing shower. Drying himself up, he stepped out of his room and scaled down the stairs.
Still feeling satisfied from the previous night’s meal, there was no need for breakfast. His plan was to have a chat with the others.
Only to get to the living room to see that he was the only one there. "Are they still asleep?" he wondered.
It couldn’t be. After all, the Awakened body didn’t need as much sleep.
Before he could finish pondering, a sharp chime of the doorbell rang.
Opening the door, curious to see who was paying such an early visit, he was surprised to see the culprit — or to be more precise, the culprits.
"Trisha..." he greeted with a nod, then turning to her side, glancing at the source of his confusion. "...And Lara Stidum."