Absolute Cheater-Chapter 255: Grader Dungeon IV

"Too late," he growled. "My blood isn't bound by divinity. It devours it."

He dashed forward in a burst of warped space and Nihility Step, reappearing behind Chains and impaling him with a blade formed of compressed Chrono-Void Blood.

Chains screamed as time itself unraveled his soul.

Frost stepped forward—cold and unfeeling.

His body broke apart into a blizzard of anti-life particles, converging into a blade that froze not just matter, but intention.

He stabbed at Asher.

The blade reached his chest.

For a moment, everything froze.

Then the scythe moved—on its own. Asher's Dragon God Bloodline activated fully, his aura shifting into a vortex of ancient fury. A massive projection formed behind him—an obsidian dragon with wings made of broken stars, roaring across realms.

The blade melted before it could pierce.

"Let me return the favor," Asher whispered—and plunged his hand into Frost's chest, ripping out the soul core and crushing it with a fist wrapped in voidfire.

Only Grief, Echo, and Madness remained.

Grief lashed out with sorrow incarnate—memories weaponized into blades. Every heartbeat echoed with trauma, loss, pain.

Valeris stood firm.

She raised one hand and absorbed it.

"You cannot burden what has already healed."

Dragon Soul Rending: Harmonious Reflection.

A pulse of light turned grief into peace, sorrow into strength. She stepped through his blade and ended him in one graceful, soul-purging arc.

Echo mirrored her perfectly, copying every strike, every motion.

But her Draconic Goddess Bloodline allowed her to shift harmony itself. She changed her spiritual frequency mid-strike, flowing out of phase with her reflection.

"Wrong mirror."

She pierced him with Celestial Inversion—a technique that reversed identity, causing Echo to destroy himself.

Madness danced in last—his form always changing, impossible to pin down. His weapon was made of concepts that shouldn't exist: dreams of things never born, nightmares without source.

But Asher was born of nothingness. Madness had no place in the mind of a Voidborn Sovereign.

He let the madness touch him.

Then he consumed it.

Nihility Dominion: Mind of the Black Star.

Asher opened his palm. A small black star formed there, spinning slowly. It hovered forward and consumed Madness whole—his voice, his shape, his existence—reduced to the screaming singularity of unbeing.

All Eight Generals… destroyed.

But the world did not grow silent.

It collapsed.

From the far end of the broken throne room, the sky turned inside out. Space inverted. Time cracked.

And from it stepped the Four Kings.

The Four Kings of the Forgotten Empire emerged like celestial disasters given flesh.

Each one radiated the essence of a fallen world—no longer men, but manifestations of ancient, forbidden forces.

The King of Crowned Silence floated above the ground, his body shrouded in black velvet and fractured glass. Where his face should've been was only a mirror, reflecting not Asher and Valeris—but distorted versions of themselves, writhing with doubt and ruin.

Beside him stood the King of Final Flame, his armor molten and shifting, wreathed in eternal fire that burned in reverse—devouring heat and light, turning brilliance into ice-cold ash.

The third, the King of Stone and Oath, towered above them, carved from immortal obsidian, with chains of celestial law wrapped around his limbs. His voice was a crushing truth, every word a command from a dead pantheon.

And last, the King of Black Seasons, neither fully there nor fully gone, his body shedding petals of withered time, every step dragging the scent of dying springs and forgotten autumns. Where he walked, hope wilted.

Asher stepped forward, his Dragon God bloodline surging to the surface. Black void-flame coiled across his limbs, his veins glowing with Sanguine Supreme, every heartbeat echoing like a war drum across timelines. Time shivered around him, folding and expanding—bending to his will.

Valeris stood beside him, her Dragon Goddess bloodline fully awakened. Ethereal wings of refracted light unfurled behind her, woven from soul-threads and ancient resonance. Her blades burned with soulfire, and a halo of spirit sigils floated behind her like the rings of a divine comet.

The Four Kings struck in unison.

The King of Final Flame launched forward first, a comet of inverted fire. His blade sang with entropy, and each slash unraveled heat itself. He collided with Asher in a thunderclap of broken physics.

Asher didn't retreat.

He stepped through time.

With a flick of his fingers, Chrono Reversal Blades spiraled out, slashing backward and forward through time simultaneously. The battlefield warped—multiple instances of Asher moving as one, his scythe becoming a hydra of voidfire and blood.

The King of Final Flame roared—then stumbled. Asher appeared beside him, whispering:

"Your fire's impressive. Mine devours gods."

He plunged his hand into the King's core, igniting Nihility Venom Surge—poisoning the concept of flame itself.

The King screamed in fractals as his body burned inward.

But there was no time to recover.

The King of Crowned Silence flicked his wrist, and the battlefield blinked.

Sound died.

Valeris suddenly stood inside a space with no echoes, no noise—just a weight pressing on the soul.

Illusions of herself attacked, reflections born from the mirrored face of the king.

"You think I fear my broken selves?" she hissed, spinning her dual soulblades.

She activated Spirit Mirror Bloom, creating a thousand soul-petals, each representing a truth she had mastered, and unleashed them all.

Her mirrored selves hesitated—and were annihilated by a tide of spirit-laced starfire.

Valeris lunged.

She drove her sword through the mirror-face of the King.

"You are not me."

With a burst of Dragonlight Rupture, his body shattered into infinite shards, vanishing into soul-mist.

The King of Stone and Oath moved next.

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Each step made the air heavier—chains snapped into being around Asher and Valeris, enforcing divine law: no flight, no spells, no speed, no lies.

The King raised his hammer, a relic of fallen justice, and brought it down.

BOOM.

A crater opened.

But Asher stepped forward, bleeding from his temple, smiling.

"You can chain gods—but not dragonblood."

His Voidborn Dragon Form erupted.

Wings like collapsed galaxies unfolded. The chains melted in his presence. He brought down his scythe, now fused with Soulblood Overdrive, and clashed with the King's hammer.