[Bonus chapter thanks to TheAuthor137. This overcompensating for what's in your pants must stop. Leave me be]
The world slowed around Sylas, his mind working in overdrive.
Salivar was right. He had come here with the intention of killing him at his full strength. He had tried to cheat a bit, but apparently, he still wasn't that lucky no matter how hard he tried or what number his Luck stat reflected.
But Salivar was wrong about something else. Sylas wasn't sent here by the Weaver Guild—he had come entirely on his own. He had never been raised by anyone in this new world, he didn't have some secret advantage, or any plan that wasn't formulated by his own hands.
Everyone by now seemed to believe that he had come with great odds of winning, and Salivar was going all out, expecting Sylas to pull some sort of rabbit out of a hat to put him in his place.
