Absolute Cheater-Chapter 145: Fiend
A massive surge of bloodlust erupted from Lloyd’s body, thick and suffocating. The air itself seemed to vibrate, filled with a dark, ominous energy.
Serena staggered back. "What… what is this!?"
Asher’s grip on his scythe tightened.
"You bastard," Asher growled as Lloyd chuckled.
"Keh… keh… I guess you know what I am now," Lloyd said, grinning as his teeth, stained with blood, gleamed under the dim light.
"You don’t just kill them… you eat your victims," Asher said, his eyes turning red with fury.
"Hahaha! So what?" Lloyd laughed. "They exist to make me stronger. I taste their fear, their souls, their very essence—and it’s worth it."
A baleful red energy crackled around him, merging with the thick aura of Fiendish Energy.
In both Volarisa and the universe beyond, there exists a forbidden taboo—one that no sane human would dare cross. It is said that consuming the flesh of those with abilities grants a 1% chance of acquiring their power. But in doing so, the person ceases to be human.
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They become a Fiend.
A cursed being.
A monster that feeds on its own kind.
"It makes you an abomination," Asher muttered, his voice cold. "A Fiend… and Fiends gain access to Fiendish Energy—a force stronger than mana, but inherently dark and corrupt."
Lloyd grinned wider, his twisted aura growing stronger.
"And you know what that means, don’t you?" he sneered. "It means I’ll just keep getting stronger… as long as I keep feeding!"
Asher’s scythe gleamed as he took a step forward.
"Not today," he said.
And then, the battle truly began.
Lloyd’s grin widened as he vanished in an instant, his speed unnatural, leaving behind a blur of crimson energy.
CLANG!
Sparks flew as Asher’s scythe met Lloyd’s clawed hand, which had turned jet-black with a metallic sheen. The force of the clash sent shockwaves rippling through the air, making the trees around them tremble.
Serena, still shaken by Lloyd’s bloodlust, clenched her fists. She wanted to help, but something told her this fight was beyond her.
"That scythe of yours is fast," Lloyd mused, licking his lips. "But you know what’s faster?"
Without warning, his body distorted, limbs twisting unnaturally before he reappeared behind Asher. His nails extended into razor-sharp claws, gleaming with a sinister light as he slashed forward.
Asher barely had time to react.
SHING!
The veil of blood surrounding Serena flared, forming a barrier as the claws scraped against it. The impact cracked the ground beneath them, sending dirt and debris flying.
"You blocked that?" Lloyd’s eyes widened before he grinned again. "Heh. I guess that’s what makes you fun!"
Asher remained silent. His prismatic core thrummed within him, adjusting to the world’s mana density. His Myriad Energy Veins pulsed, amplifying his strength. He could feel it—his body was now fully synchronized.
He was back to his prime.
Lloyd charged again, this time with twice the speed, but Asher didn’t dodge.
Instead, he stepped forward.
WHOOSH!
With a single motion, he spun his scythe, the blade gleaming as it sliced through the air with perfect precision.
SLASH!
Lloyd’s expression froze.
A deep gash had appeared across his chest, blood spurting from the wound.
His eyes twitched, unable to believe what just happened. "What…?"
"I told you," Asher said, his crimson eyes glowing with cold fury. "Not today."
Lloyd’s body trembled, but instead of pain, he laughed.
"Hahaha…HAHAHAHA! That’s it! That’s the fight I wanted!" His bloodlust intensified, his wound beginning to seal at an unnatural rate.
"Good," Asher muttered, raising his scythe again. "I was getting bored anyway."
And with that, the real battle began.
Lloyd’s laughter grew twisted, his aura surging like a dark tide. The gaping wound across his chest sealed shut, flesh stitching together in seconds. His Fiendish Energy flared, wrapping around him like living tendrils of malice.
"See this?" Lloyd grinned, spreading his arms. "I evolve every time I fight! Every wound, every near-death moment—it makes me stronger!"
Asher didn’t flinch. His crimson eyes remained cold, analyzing Lloyd’s energy flow.
Regeneration… and an adaptive growth ability.
Every time Lloyd got injured, his body adjusted—becoming tougher, faster, and deadlier.
Asher sighed. "So basically, you’re a pest."
Lloyd’s grin twitched. "Hah. That’s rich coming from someone about to become my next meal."
In an instant, Lloyd disappeared.
WHOOSH!
A shadow flickered—then another. Lloyd’s afterimages circled Asher from all sides, moving at blinding speed. His nails elongated into blackened daggers, each dripping with a deadly energy.
Serena gasped. "He’s—!"
"Predator’s Feast."
Lloyd’s voice echoed from every direction.
A storm of claws rained down upon Asher.
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
Asher’s scythe moved like a phantom, intercepting every strike with impossible precision. Sparks flew as he parried and countered, his movements fluid—effortless.
Then, in a blur, Asher shifted his stance.
His scythe vanished.
Lloyd’s eyes widened.
"Where—?"
A cold whisper brushed against his ear.
"Behind you."
SLASH!
A deep gash opened across Lloyd’s back, his blood spraying into the air.
"GRRAAHH!" Lloyd roared in pain, but before he could react—
"Ten Shadows Piercing Strike."
A series of shadow-like blades erupted from the ground, impaling Lloyd’s limbs and pinning him in midair.
Lloyd gasped, his body convulsing violently.
Asher’s figure loomed before him, scythe glowing ominously.
"You adapt to pain, right?" Asher said, his tone indifferent. "Then let’s see how much you can endure before you stop growing."
Lloyd’s breath hitched.
For the first time—he felt fear.
Asher raised his scythe.
And the slaughter began.
Lloyd thrashed against the shadowy blades impaling him, his Fiendish Energy surging as he tried to break free. His body twitched and convulsed, adapting, regenerating—growing stronger.
"You think this is enough to stop me?" Lloyd sneered, his wounds already closing. His Fiendish Energy pulsed violently, warping the air around him.
SNAP!
The shadow bindings shattered as he lunged forward, claws aimed for Asher’s throat.
WHOOSH!
A scythe blurred through the air.
Lloyd’s hand went flying.
"AAAAARGH!" He howled, stumbling back as dark blood splattered the ground.
Asher didn’t stop.
SLASH!
Lloyd’s knee was severed next.
SLASH!
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A deep gash tore through his torso.
Each wound bled black, and for the first time—Lloyd’s regeneration slowed.
His breathing grew ragged. His body was adapting too quickly.
"Wh-what…?" Lloyd’s voice wavered. "Why… why am I slowing down?"
Asher tilted his head. "You’re evolving too fast."
Lloyd’s pupils shrank.
"You see…" Asher took a slow step forward, scythe dripping with cursed energy. "Your body is desperately trying to adjust to every wound, but there’s a limit. The faster you adapt, the more unstable you become."
Lloyd looked down at himself—his flesh was twisting and warping, as if his body couldn’t decide what form to take.
"You’ve been feeding on weaklings for too long," Asher continued, his eyes glowing with amusement. "But now that you’re actually being pushed—your own ability is working against you."
Lloyd’s face twisted in rage. "Shut up!"
His aura flared violently as he forced his body to stabilize, but—
It was too late.
Asher was already in front of him.
"Crimson Execution."
SLASH!
The world froze.
A single blood-red arc flashed through the air.
Lloyd’s expression froze in disbelief. His head slid off his shoulders—his eyes still wide with shock.
For a moment, silence reigned.
Then—
THUD!
His head hit the ground. His body collapsed soon after, twitching… before going completely still.
The once-arrogant fiend—was dead.
Serena let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. "You… killed him."
Asher stared at Lloyd’s corpse, then swung his scythe to the side—flinging off the blackened blood.
He turned to Serena, eyes calm.
"Of course."
There was never any doubt.
[ You have plundered the ability: Slaughter Gift. ]
[ Slaughter Gift: Each time you kill, you gain a random number of stat increases, with a 0.1% chance of acquiring the victim’s ability. ]
Asher looked at the notification as his Plunder Ability activated, granting him the Slaughter Gift.
"Hmm… it’s essentially just a weaker version of my Plunder," he thought.
However, as he examined the ability further, his expression darkened.
It wasn’t all sunshine and power.
There was another hidden drawback.
[ Warning: The first step down this path is irreversible. The more you kill, the more the ability will erode your sanity. ]
Asher’s grip on his scythe tightened.
"A cursed ability…" he muttered.
While the Slaughter Gift could grant incredible strength, it came at a cost. The more its wielder indulged in bloodshed, the harder it became to retain their sense of self.
Asher sighed before decisively sealing the ability within himself.
He had no intention of losing control.
"What should we do now?" Serena asked, her face pale with panic as she looked at the armband flashing with a loud alarm.
Each B-rank and above adventurer’s card contained a tracker, automatically recording who attacked them, how, and when they died.
Within a minute, an S-rank or stronger—depending on Lloyd’s importance—would be rushing to this location.
"We do nothing," Asher said calmly. "We weren’t at fault."
With a snap of his fingers, he shielded Serena in a thin blood veil—but this time, it did more than just protect her.
It also made her invisible.