Absolute Cheater

He was grinning, his heart pounding with exhilaration.

Dodge. Counter. Kill.

Every move felt effortless, his instincts sharper than ever. The longer he fought, the more he could feel it creeping in—that twisted thrill of battle.

"This isn't normal," Asher thought, sidestepping another monstrous knight's blade. His blood tendrils lashed out, coiling around the knight's throat before ripping its head clean off.

He exhaled slowly, feeling his blood boil.

It was his Sanguine Supreme ability.

Or rather, something buried within it.

The more he fought, the more it fed off the battle. The power was reacting, heightening his senses, sharpening his reflexes—urging him forward.

"Tch. This damn ability… it wants more."

A beast lunged at him from the shadows—six arms, each wielding a different cursed weapon. It was fast, unnaturally so, its movements erratic and unpredictable.

But Asher was faster.

His Phantom Veil activated, making him flicker in and out of existence. The creature swung wildly, its weapons passing through empty air as Asher's scythe sliced through its torso in one clean stroke.

A splatter of dark blood.

A dying scream.

And Asher was grinning again.

"Damn it."

He shook his head, forcing himself to focus.

The maze wasn't infinite. There had to be a way out—a pattern. He needed to stop indulging in the thrill of combat and start thinking.

But then—

A low, guttural laugh echoed through the maze.

Asher's grin faded, replaced by cold calculation.

That laugh—deep, guttural, mocking—wasn't just some mindless beast. Something intelligent was lurking within this maze, watching him, waiting for something.

He took a slow breath, suppressing the lingering thrill of battle. His crimson eyes scanned his surroundings, noting the intricate patterns on the walls, the shifting shadows in the distance. The maze wasn't just a physical trial—it was something more.

"If this was just about killing, I would have walked out by now," Asher thought.

The ground beneath him trembled.

A new presence emerged.

A tall, gaunt figure stepped from the shadows, clad in tattered royal robes of deep obsidian. Its skeletal hands clutched a long staff, etched with ancient runes pulsing with sickly green light. The creature's sunken eyes gleamed with a predatory glint as it observed him, the corners of its fanged mouth curling into a smirk.

"You have been most… entertaining."

The voice didn't come from its mouth. It slithered directly into Asher's mind, each word laced with an eerie echo.

Asher tightened his grip on his scythe, but didn't attack. Not yet.

"You must be the one who designed this trial," he said, voice even.

The figure chuckled, tapping its staff against the floor.

"Designed? No. I merely enforce it. But you… you are different. Most who come here either perish or break. Yet you thrive."

Asher smirked. "Yeah, well, I get that a lot."

The air grew heavier. A pressure unlike before settled around him, as if reality itself was bending.

"Then let us see if you are truly worthy… or just another fleeting ember."

The maze itself shifted.

Walls dissolved into darkness.

The pathways collapsed.

And Asher found himself standing in an endless void—alone with the Warden of the Labyrinth.

Asher's breath steadied, his grip on the scythe tightening as the void pulsed around him. The Warden of the Labyrinth floated effortlessly, its tattered robes billowing despite the absence of wind. The air crackled with dark energy, and Asher could feel the sheer weight of the being's presence pressing down on him.

Then—it moved.

In a blink, the Warden was in front of him, staff raised high. A single downward strike, but the moment it descended—a hundred more followed.

Asher's eyes widened. Illusions? No, this was reality itself being twisted.

CLANG!

He barely managed to raise his scythe in time, intercepting the first strike. The second, third, and fourth came at impossible angles—his body burned as he twisted, evading most but feeling the searing cold of the ones that grazed him.

Sanguine Supreme—Blood Manifestation!

Crimson tendrils erupted from his back, forming a barrier that took the brunt of the remaining strikes. The impact sent him skidding backward, his boots scraping against the shifting void.

"Good," the Warden mused, hovering in place. "But not enough."

It raised its hand, and the entire void shook.

The space around Asher distorted, warping into a labyrinth of mirrors. Reflections of himself flickered to life, each standing motionless—but he could feel it. Some of them weren't just images.

Some of them were real.

This was a test of perception.

Asher exhaled. "A maze within a maze, huh?" His smirk returned, but his eyes remained sharp.

Phantom Veil—Illusory Sight.

The world rippled. For a split second, the illusion wavered, and Asher moved.

He dashed forward, scythe slashing through the false reflections, aiming directly for the Warden's real body. But just as his blade closed in—

SHINK.

A spear of void energy pierced his side.

Blood splattered as Asher staggered, his expression twisting into one of frustration.

The Warden chuckled, its hollow voice echoing. "You see through some tricks, but not all. That wound will not heal easily."

Asher hissed, glancing at the wound—it wasn't closing. His regeneration wasn't working. Explore more at My Virtual Library Empire

This place—it was rejecting his existence.

"Tch." He steadied himself, raising his scythe again. "Guess I'll just have to kill you faster, then."

The Warden tilted its head.

"Show me."

Asher ignored the pain. He had no choice.

The moment his regeneration failed to work, he knew—this fight wasn't one he could drag out. He had to finish it, fast.

The Warden raised its staff again, and the mirrors around them shattered, turning into shards of liquid shadow that swirled like a hurricane. Each shard gleamed with an unnatural glow, whispering curses in a language long forgotten.

Then they launched.

A storm of razor-sharp void shards rained down on him.

Asher reacted instantly.

"Sanguine Supreme—Crimson Dominion!"

A massive wave of blood energy erupted from his body, forming a barrier of hardened crimson around him. The shards collided with the blood shield, exploding on impact. The force pushed him back, but Asher didn't let up.

He saw the opening.

Phantom Veil—Step Between.

His body blurred—and in the next second, he was behind the Warden. His scythe descended, the edge glowing with a deep crimson light.

"Die."

The blade struck true—or so he thought.

Just as the scythe was about to slice through the Warden's neck, its body disintegrated into mist.

"Illusions again?" Asher's teeth clenched.

The real Warden appeared above him, its staff glowing with an eerie silver light. "You are quick," it admitted. "But speed alone will not save you."

It thrust the staff down.

A pillar of void energy erupted, engulfing Asher completely.

For a moment, everything went silent.

Then—

BOOM!

A massive explosion rocked the entire maze.