Reincarnated With A Divine Bloodline System

Chapter 6: -6- Not interested

His father soon had the second beast released.

[Grey Wolf (Fierce Beast) - Qi Cultivation: Peak Mortal - Body Cultivation: Peak Mortal]

The beast quickly entered the arena, and upon seeing the lion and the human, it instantly decided to kill the human before dealing with the lion.

"Bang!" "Bang!" "Bang!" "Shing!" "Bang!" "Shing!" "Shing!"

The fight was now on an entirely new level, and he was being pushed even harder than before.

He weaved in and out of their pincer attacks, defending blow after blow, even managing to get in a hit or two.

"Bang!" "Bang!" "Shing!" "Shing!" "Bang!" "Bang!" "Bang!"

'I'm so close!' he thought.

He continued to fight the beast, and the more he dodged, the quicker he got. Soon, in front of his father's eyes, he was about to get hit in the back by the lion. The way the three were positioned, there was no way for Silas to escape at his current skill level.

'Dammit!' his father thought, almost wanting to jump down and stop the fight. But he knew this was what his son wanted, and while it would hurt, his son had the body of a fiendgod, so he would survive. But just as Silas was about to get hit, he exploded off the ground quicker and in more control than ever before.

'Mastery!' both Silas and his father thought at the same time.

'I did it. I've reached mastery in my movement. Now I just have to reach mastery in my scythe technique,' he thought, but no matter how much he fought, it never came.

Hours went by, with body refiners able to battle almost endlessly without tiring.

"Son, I think that's enough. If you haven't reached it yet, I don't think it's going to happen. Now that you've reached mastery in your footwork, adding a third beast would be pointless," his father told him.

"Damn!" Silas said in frustration. He was just at the threshold but couldn't quite cross it.

"Shing!" "Shing!" "Shing!" "Shing!"

He sent out four quick attacks, two for each beast, killing them quickly.

"Well done, son. I know you wanted to hit mastery in your scythe as well, but look at the bright side: you managed to achieve half of your goal. You are now at mastery level in your movement technique, and you did it at the age of 16. I didn't reach that until I was well into my 20's," his father said.

Silas nodded in understanding. "Father, I want to enter in the Battle of the Region."

"You what?" his father asked, not sure if he had heard right.

"I want to enter in the Battle of the Region in two months. Will you let me?" Silas asked.

"And why would you want to do that? The bet isn't for another five years," his father said.

"I know. I just want to test out my new strength, and honestly, I have no interest in the Lord Prefect position," Silas explained.

"You do know that everyone under the age of 30 can enter the competition, so there will even be a couple of talented Transcendent lifeforms entering," his father tried to dissuade him.

"It's fine, Father. I've reached mastery in my footwork. While I might not be able to beat them, I can easily escape. This is another chance to temper myself. Please agree," Silas said.

His father sighed, then said, "Fine. As you said, if you want to run, there isn't much anyone could do to stop you. And even those few Transcendent lifeforms won't all have reached mastery in their movement or weapon comprehension. Usually, only the winner of the competition might have reached mastery in one, but it's uncommon."

"But what is this about not wanting to be the Lord Prefect? What else would you be? Where else would you go? You should know by now that our clan is stuck inside this inheritance realm, and the only way to leave is by reaching the top floor of the Battle Pagoda. But we don't even know if anyone has ever been talented enough to do it. Of course, some people enter and never exit, but they could have just as easily died inside. And while you are extremely talented, I don't know if you will have what it takes to accomplish what so many others have failed to do," his father explained.

"I know how challenging it will be, but I have confidence," Silas said. Of course, he would have confidence. Could anyone in this inheritance realm be more talented than a divine beast?

There were ten stages of beasts: regular Beast, Fierce Beast, King Beast, Emperor Beast, Desolate Beast, Primal Beast, Ancient Beast, Primordial Beast, Chaos Beast, and finally Divine Beast, and he was an extremely rare Divine Beast.

He didn't know the exact number, but from the little knowledge his system told him and from his inherited memories, if he had to guess, there would only be roughly forty or so types of divine beasts to ever exist. This meant there were definitely fewer than two hundred, with most divine beasts only numbering one or two, and a few of the weaker ones might go up to five or six.

So, the odds of another divine beast being born in this small inheritance realm (small being relative—it was close to the size of all of North and South America. 16.43 million square miles, give or take.) were close to zero.

His father just sighed. "Well, if you don't want to be the Lord Prefect, I can't make you. Your life is your own to walk."

They then went home and told his mother what had happened and how he was going to enter the Battle of the Region at just 16 years of age.

"Are you sure, sweetie?" his mother, Clara, asked, slightly worried about him. While killing wasn't permitted, it occasionally happened. In a close battle, it was hard to win by pulling your blows, so sometimes nothing could be done, and someone would die.

"I'm positive, Mother, and don't worry, I'll be fine," Silas assured her.

***

Two months quickly went by, and now they were just five days away from the competition.

During the past two months, Silas had continued to practice and train, and he had even learned the other two advanced scythe techniques of his clan: the [Wraithblade's Dance] and the [Phantom Reave].

The entire North Prefecture had now gathered and were getting ready to leave for the Redstone Prefecture.

The Redstone Clan was the strongest clan in Moonvale Mountain, with their clan leader being a peak 3rd-rank disciple, so they always hosted the Battle of the Region.

But before everyone could leave, they first had to take count of who all would be participating and representing their Armstrong Clan's North Prefecture.

Currently, there was a loud crowd gathered with all the important and high-ranking members of the clan present.

The Lord Prefect and Silas's great-grandfather soon walked onto the stage.

"Quiet down!" he slightly raised his voice.

"Every youth under the age of 30 who would like to participate, come forward," he said.

About 50 youths walked forward, the highest rank being a peak Mortal, just like Silas.

"Well, it looks like we won't have a chance at winning this year," an elder of the clan said with a sigh. Since they didn't have a Transcendent lifeform in the running, they stood no chance of taking first.

"Wait, is that Silas?" another elder quickly pointed out.

This gained everyone's attention, and soon they had all found Silas, who was standing on the stage with all the other youths.

"Silas, you're participating as well?" Charles asked, surprised.

"Yes, Lord Prefect," Silas calmly answered. He and his parents had kept it a secret that he would be joining, and currently, no one knew his strength or that he had reached mastery in his movement technique and was close in his scythe technique as well.

The majority of the people here didn't even know Silas had reached the foundation stage, so everyone was shocked that the 16-year-old Silas would dare to join the Battle of the Region.

"Silas, you do know the bet for Lord Prefect doesn't take place until you and Emmitt are 21?" Charles said.

"Yes, I'm aware, Lord Prefect. Me joining has nothing to do with the bet. I just want to test my strength, and also I would like to formally pull out of the bet for the Lord Prefect position. I have no interest in it," Silas said, to the shock of the crowd.

"What did you say?" Howard, Silas's grandfather and likely biggest supporter of him becoming Lord Prefect yelled.

"Grandfather, please calm down. I just have no interest in being the Lord Prefect. I plan to fully devote my life to cultivation," Silas said, meeting his grandpa's frustrated gaze.

"Alexander, what is the meaning of this?" Howard said, looking at his son.

"Didn't you hear the boy?" Harvey, Howard's brother, started. "He has no interest. That means the position will naturally fall to Emmitt," Harvey finished with a smile.

Howard just stood there, too stunned to speak. How could Silas possibly not be interested in the Lord Prefect position? He wanted to focus on cultivation? Could he not do both? The highest rank one could reach in this realm was the 3rd rank. It was rare, especially for their Armstrong Clan, to produce such a talent. But he knew how talented his grandson was, and he had little doubt that, if nothing went wrong in his development, he would be able to reach the peak of this realm.

***

***

[A/n: I changed some of the ranks it now goes:

1. Mortal

2. Transcendent

3. Revolving Core

4. Golden Core]

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