Absolute Cheater

As Asher stepped out of the portal, his breath hitched. A strange sensation washed over him, a sense of disconnection that gnawed at the edges of his awareness. His hands trembled faintly, his fingers twitching as if they belonged to someone else. The warm sunlight on his skin did little to soothe the unease brewing inside him.

"What... is this?" he thought, his crimson eyes narrowing. His heart raced, beating out a frantic rhythm. It felt like he was standing outside his own body, a mere spectator watching someone else control his movements.

Memories of the dungeon flashed in his mind—the precision of his strikes, the unrestrained malice that had coursed through him, the thrill of destruction. Yet, there was a detachment to those memories, as if they belonged to another version of him, not the Asher who now stood under the clear sky.

He clenched his fists, willing the trembling to stop. His body obeyed, but there was an unnatural sharpness to the movement, almost mechanical.

"This isn't the first time," Asher realized, his thoughts swirling. He recalled previous battles, moments where his actions felt too smooth, too precise—beyond even his exceptional skills. Those times, he had dismissed it as adrenaline, as instinct taking over. But now...

A cold sweat ran down his back. "Am I losing control?"

The murmurs of the crowd nearby drew his attention. Their awe-filled gazes, the hushed whispers of his performance, all seemed distant, muffled by the storm inside him.

Darren Dagon's voice cut through the haze. "Magnus, you alright? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Asher turned to Darren, his expression hardening. "I'm fine," he said curtly, his voice steadier than he felt.

Darren Dagon leaned casually against a nearby pillar, a cocky smirk plastered across his face. "You really do know how to make an entrance, Magnus. Or should I say... an exit?" His tone was dripping with mockery.

Asher halted in his tracks, crimson eyes narrowing as they locked onto Darren.

"I mean, not many come out of a Gold-ranked dungeon looking like they've been to hell and back," Darren continued, laughing. "What happened in there? Did the monsters scare you that bad? Thought you Magnus types were supposed to be unshakable."

Asher's smirk faded, his expression growing cold and calculating. "You'd better hope you're never in my way, Dagon," he said, his voice icy and deliberate.

Darren pushed off the pillar, stepping closer until he was face-to-face with Asher. His golden eyes gleamed with amusement. "Or what?"

Asher leaned slightly forward, his voice dropping to a chilling whisper. "Or I'll drain every last drop of blood from your body and hang you up like a dried-out rag on a washing line."

Darren's smirk widened. "And I'll turn you into my obedient little beast, Magnus," he said, his tone just as sharp.

The tension between the two was palpable as their auras flared, each daring the other to make the first move.

Before either could escalate further, a staff member overseeing dungeon activity approached briskly. "No fights are allowed here," the man said firmly, his stern gaze flicking between the two. "If you two have an issue, take it to the arena. Otherwise, step aside."

The reminder of the rules didn't quell the animosity, but Darren took a deliberate step back, his smirk still intact. "How about it, Magnus? Want me to show you why you're second to me?"

Asher's lips curled into a faint, humorless smile. "Let's settle this, then," he said coolly.

Darren gestured toward the arena with a mock bow. "After you."

As the two made their way toward the designated combat grounds, Darren's thoughts churned beneath his confident exterior. "First rank or not, I'll humiliate you today, Magnus. By the time I'm done, you'll be nothing more than a laughingstock at this academy."

Asher on the other hand didn't think that much, for him Daren is nothing but an guy with over inflated Ego.

The path to the arena was tense, but for Asher, it was also amusing in its own way. Darren strutted slightly ahead, his posture exuding cocky confidence as though he had already won. Asher followed at a leisurely pace, his crimson eyes half-lidded, betraying a lack of interest.

"Does he think this will be anything other than a waste of my time?" Asher thought, suppressing a chuckle. To him, Darren Dagon was just another loudmouth with a fragile ego—a common sight in a place filled with elites.

When they arrived at the arena, the staff had already begun preparing the field. The space was vast, encased in shimmering energy barriers designed to contain even the most destructive clashes. Students from various classes, drawn by the rumor of a fight between two S-Class elites, were gathering in the stands, whispering excitedly.

"Magnus versus Dagon? This is going to be good."

"Bet Darren's gonna wipe the floor with him. That guy's a beast."

"Yeah, but Magnus did just come out of a Gold-ranked dungeon. He's probably got some tricks up his sleeve."

The murmurs didn't faze Asher, but Darren reveled in the attention. He raised a hand to the crowd, flashing his trademark smirk. "You're about to see why I'm the rightful top rank," he announced confidently, his voice echoing across the arena.

Asher rolled his eyes. "Rightful top rank, huh?" He stepped into the arena without fanfare, his demeanor calm yet commanding.

The announcer, a faculty member overseeing the match, stepped forward. "This will be a one-on-one duel. No lethal force is permitted. Victory is declared when one fighter yields, is incapacitated, or steps out of bounds."

Both combatants nodded.

"Magnus. Dagon. Take your positions."

Asher cracked his knuckles, his smirk faintly returning. "Hope you brought more than just that inflated ego, Dagon," he said, his tone casual.

Darren sneered, summoning a wave of mana that rippled around him. "Oh, don't worry, Magnus. I brought enough to put you in your place."

The energy barriers locked into place, and the faculty member raised a hand. "Begin!"

The arena erupted in a flash of light as Darren made the first move. With a powerful burst of mana, he summoned a massive beast—a hulking dragon-like creature with black scales and glowing blue eyes.

"Meet my partner," Darren said smugly. "Let's see if your blood magic can handle this."

Asher stood his ground, watching as the beast roared and charged toward him. He extended his hand, crimson energy swirling around it like a living entity. His Blood Supreme ability activated, and the pools of blood left by his previous dungeon expedition materialized, forming a barrier in front of him.

The crowd gasped as the dragon's claws met the barrier, only to be stopped cold. Asher's eyes gleamed with amusement. "Cute pet," he said, his voice dripping with mockery.

Darren growled, his pride stung. "Let's see you handle this!" He commanded the beast to breathe a torrent of blue fire.

Asher sidestepped effortlessly, using the blood from his barrier to form a whip that lashed out at the creature. The whip wrapped around the dragon's neck, tightening like a vice as Asher pulled.

"You'll have to do better than this, Dagon," Asher said, his tone eerily calm.

Darren's expression faltered slightly, but he quickly masked it with anger. "Don't get cocky!" he shouted, summoning another surge of mana to enhance the dragon's strength.

The arena shook as the dragon roared again, breaking free of the whip and charging with renewed ferocity. But Asher remained unfazed, his blood manipulation shifting fluidly between offense and defense.

The battle was just beginning, but already the spectators could feel the tension. Darren fought with raw power and spectacle, but Asher's calculated precision and mastery of his abilities were like a cold storm, slowly eroding Darren's confidence.

"Dragon blast!" Darren shouted, as his dragon unleashed a searing breath attack.

Asher simply leaned to the side, clenching his fist. The blood barrier extended, enveloping the dragon before Asher commanded, "Explode!"

The dragon was blown to pieces in an instant, disintegrating into a cloud of red mist.

Darren stood frozen for a moment, eyes wide in disbelief. The massive dragon he'd summoned had been obliterated in an instant, its fiery breath and imposing form reduced to nothing more than scattered remnants of blood and charred scales.

Asher's cold gaze never wavered, his expression one of casual indifference, as though it was nothing more than a minor inconvenience. His blood manipulation was on full display, the blood from the dragon's remains now floating around him like an ethereal fog, pulsating with his command.

"Do you have any more?" Asher repeated, his voice smooth and calm, devoid of any hint of struggle.

Darren's fists clenched, his teeth gritting as he took a step back. He had underestimated Magnus, assuming his brute strength would be enough to intimidate him. But now, it was clear Asher's control over blood magic was far beyond what he'd anticipated.

With a scowl, Darren summoned a new wave of energy, his body crackling with raw power. "You think this is over, Magnus?" he growled. "You're not the only one who's got tricks up his sleeve."