Unholy Player Chapter 515 Awakening the Unknown (Part 2)

The machine monitors flickered before plunging into darkness. A sudden layer of rust crept over them, corroding the screws, frames, and every bit of exposed metal.

A simultaneous decay seemed to take hold of every metallic object in the vicinity.

Adyr experienced the sensation on his own flesh as well. A light itch traveled across his skin, making the atmosphere feel as though it had become abrasive.

Despite this, he didn't think of fleeing. He remained to observe the phenomenon, judging that the intensity wasn't yet high enough to cause him real harm.

Eventually, the entire chamber was consumed by a crimson aura. The room was bathed in a deep reddish tint, making it appear as if the very walls had been stained with dye.

The energy seemed confined by the room's boundaries, failing to leak into the hallway. While the reinforced door was rusting at a visible rate, it appeared sturdy enough to hold for the moment.

Adyr then detected a further transformation occurring within Rhys’s body.

He spotted a new ripple, one that stood apart from the red aura. It possessed a distinct quality, suggesting it originated from a different source of power.

A peculiar motion manifested around Rhys’s abdominal region. A miniature whirlpool began to stir, shoving the red aura aside as it condensed into a concentrated mass of energy, spiraling into a sharp, rotating vortex.

“Is a dimension appearing there?”

This was a sight he had encountered before.

Utilizing the unique traits of Sszhar’s eyes—which he had acquired through his evolution—he was already familiar with the appearance of a hidden dimension. Now, that same phenomenon was taking shape in the center of Rhys’s abdomen, at the very heart of the swirling energy.

The implications were easy for him to decipher. The emerging dimension was a Sanctuary.

Adyr realized he was witnessing a live awakening right before him. This wasn't a mere report or a distant rumor; it was happening in real time.

From his vantage point, the invisible energy vortex stabilized in a matter of seconds. It then collapsed inward, vanishing into Rhys’s body as if it had finally settled into its rightful place.

Adyr stepped closer, squinting to catch a glimpse of the Sanctuary with his own eyes. It remained invisible. However, he could sense its presence—an unfamiliar dimension existing just behind a thin, metaphysical veil.

“I wonder if I can upgrade these eyes and see better,” he whispered with genuine curiosity, his focus intensifying despite his fatigue.

At his current level, he could only perceive the gateways to such dimensions. The internal Sanctuaries of Practitioners remained hidden from his sight.

But if he discovered a method to enhance his vision, he might one day be able to measure the scale of a Sanctuary or even peer at its contents.

As he contemplated his future evolutions, a fresh wave of changes began to unfold.

Strangely, these weren't centered on Rhys. They were happening to Adyr himself.

“What?” Adyr felt a sudden twitch in his shoulders and spun around.

In that instant, the skeletal frames of his wings erupted from his shoulders, forcing their way out as if his own back had rebelled against him.

The bony tips grated against the lab walls as the wings expanded and spasmed. Feathers rapidly sprouted to cover them—one wing turning pure white and the other pitch black—as the plumage surged from the base to the tips.

Adyr had no control over the process. His muscles ignored his commands when he tried to retract them. An unknown force seemed to have seized his physical form.

In a desperate move, he pulled a sword from his Sanctuary and swung at his own wing, intent on severing it.

Though they were his own wings on his own body, he would not tolerate a betrayal from any part of himself.

The blade proved insufficient to do the job. It merely sliced through a few white feathers before striking the bone and stopping cold, sending a jarring vibration up his arm.

He prepared for a second strike, this time infusing the blade with Malice to increase its cutting power. However, a new complication arose immediately.

The moment he reached for Malice, black smoke began to billow from the wrong source.

His black wing began to emit thick plumes of smoke, as if it had hijacked his bloodline talent. The darkness poured out in heavy waves, completely ignoring his mental commands.

His white wing reacted in turn, joining the rebellion. A warm, white light flooded out, illuminating the other side of the room with a radiance so intense it cast sharp shadows across the floor.

Stripped of control over his wings and his bloodline talents, Adyr had to act fast.

He began to initiate his suicide combo to incinerate the wings entirely, but time ran out.

Grace and Malice had already painted the room in contrasting shades of white and black. The two rival forces then seemed to reach a silent agreement. Moving in unison for the first time, they surged toward Rhys, pulled by an invisible force Adyr couldn't identify.

The resulting suction hit him like a physical blow. His stamina plummeted instantly. His hand shook as his grip failed, causing the sword to clang against the floor. His legs buckled, and he collapsed.

Every ounce of strength drained from his frame. He couldn't even muster the energy to activate his Spark skills. Every internal process turned sluggish in a heartbeat.

Despite the crushing weakness, he forced his head up to watch, his breathing shallow.

Malice and Grace continued to pour violently from his wings, washing over Rhys in an unending stream. They acted like allies, systematically peeling away the layers of the red aura surrounding him.

The clashing colors looked like a celestial war visible only to divine eyes. Waves of black and white crashed against the deep crimson in a violent struggle.

With every passing second, Adyr felt his reserves deplete further. Soon, he felt his very life force being siphoned away, as if the drain had moved beyond mere physical exhaustion.

Wrinkles etched themselves into his skin. His vibrant red hair turned dull. His body began to age at an unnatural, frightening speed.

He was powerless to halt the process. Kneeling on the ground, he could only observe the final outcome.

He wasn't even sure which side to root for; his own bloodline talents were the very things killing him.

Ultimately, all his strength evaporated. His aged eyes grew heavy and slowly shut. He collapsed face-first onto the floor, losing consciousness before the battle reached its conclusion.

Even after he went still, the colors continued their relentless clash. The white and black forces suppressed the dark red. Then, with a final, massive surge, they shattered the red presence into nothingness.

They did not stop to celebrate, nor did they show concern for their unconscious master. Instead, they flooded into Rhys’s body, saturating him inside and out, claiming every fiber of his being.

A fundamental transformation began within him. His mind, soul, and flesh were saturated with the Genesis energy of the bloodline talents, rewriting the very code of his existence.

And then, his awakening commenced once more. This time, it wasn't the Blood Path that answered the call, but something entirely unprecedented.