Absolute Cheater - Chapter 477

Chapter 477: Averin Academy

The next morning came quickly. The golden light of dawn spilled through the high windows of the Magnus estate, catching the pale mist that lingered over the gardens. Birds from the higher realm—feathered with faintly glowing plumes—sang among the crystal-leaved trees. The air itself carried the soft hum of soul energy, alive and vibrant.

With only three days left before enrollment, the estate had grown busy. Servants prepared traveling robes, academy documents, and charm-imbued satchels, while the younger cousins—Maxwell, Sylens, Lia, Sophia, and Amanda—moved restlessly about the courtyard. Their excitement filled the air, but so did a nervous edge. This would be their first real step into the higher realm on their own.

Asher stood in the center of the training yard, his arms folded as he watched them line up before him. His expression was calm, but there was a faint gleam in his eyes—a mixture of pride and challenge.

“Alright,” he said, his voice steady but carrying easily through the morning air. “If you’re going to the Academy, you’ll represent the Magnus family. That means no hesitation, no excuses. You’ll walk in as cultivators, not children. Understood?”

The five nodded quickly, though Amanda gave a mock salute that made Lia snort behind her hand.

Asher’s mouth twitched faintly. “Good. Then let’s see what you’ve learned so far.”

He stepped back and gestured toward the open yard. “Pair up.”

The cousins hesitated for a moment before moving into pairs—Maxwell with Sylens, Lia with Sophia—while Amanda stood alone, chin tilted stubbornly.

“I’ll take you myself,” Asher said, motioning her forward. “Since you look like you want to prove something.”

Amanda grinned. “You read me too well.”

“Then let’s see if you can back that up.”

He gave no further warning. In the next instant, Asher’s aura flared faintly—just enough to release a wave of pressure that made the younger ones straighten instinctively. The ground beneath his feet shimmered with faint crimson patterns, an echo of his Sanguine Supreme cultivation.

“Begin!”

The courtyard came alive with motion and energy, the air thick with the pulse of soul power.

Maxwell lunged first—his strikes sharp, brutal, and unrestrained. His Blood Ruler ability surged beneath his skin, veins glowing faintly crimson as his blade cut through the air with frightening weight. But what made him stand apart was his secondary gift—the Sword Saint’s Golden Terror, a manifestation of divine sword intent unique to his bloodline. It shimmered faintly around his weapon, giving every swing a terrifying precision. Among all the Magnus descendants, his hybrid—Blood Ruler and Sword Saint—was considered one of the most potent, feared for its balance of destructive power and divine technique.

Sylens countered him with composed grace, his every movement controlled and deliberate. His aura bore the mark of the Blood Ruler fused with the Overlord’s Beast Dominion, a rare blend that allowed him to command creatures bound by his blood. Three of his familiars circled the field—a Blood Abyssal Dragon, a Crimson-Hearted Ronin Beast, and the spectral wolf known as Blade-Fenrir. The synergy of master and beast was seamless, his every gesture echoed by the creatures in perfect harmony.

Nearby, Lia and Sophia fought as one. The twin sisters were almost identical in movement and aura—their combined bloodline of Black Blood and Necromancy gave them frightening versatility. Lia wove glyphs of crimson shadow that summoned skeletal guardians, while Sophia mirrored her, channeling bursts of corrupted soul-light that stitched together her sister’s attacks. Together, they moved like mirrored storms—each feeding off the other’s rhythm, embodying the haunting beauty of death and life intertwined.

Amanda faced Asher head-on, her expression focused. Unlike the others, her power burned with stark contrast—Black Lightning fused with Blood Ruler—a combination that gave her both ferocity and speed. Her aura sparked violently, threads of black lightning crawling over her arms as her blood responded to her will. The fusion made her both a bladed storm and a living conduit of thunder.

She darted forward, vanishing for a heartbeat as she used the Flicker Step Serena had taught her. Her palm strike came fast and precise, aimed straight at Asher’s heart. He caught it effortlessly, his expression calm.

“Good balance,” he said, twisting lightly and redirecting her force until she stumbled. “But still too predictable.”

Amanda slid back, sparks flaring from her fingertips. “Then I’ll change it!” she said, and charged again, faster this time. But Asher merely stepped aside, tapping her shoulder with effortless precision.

“You’re improving,” he murmured. “But remember—don’t fight where you want to strike. Fight where your opponent doesn’t expect you to.”

Amanda clenched her fists, nodding. “Right. Again.”

Meanwhile, Maxwell and Sylens clashed hard—raw power against absolute control. The golden arcs of Maxwell’s blade met Sylens’ beast-fused counterstrikes, every impact shaking the courtyard. Lia and Sophia’s shadow-born spells collided midair, releasing bursts of dark crimson mist.

Asher watched each one closely, correcting their stances, guiding their focus. “Every technique you learn,” he said, his tone firm, “is useless if you can’t hear your own rhythm. The Academy won’t spare you because you’re Magnuses. They’ll test your limits—and your pride.”

The cousins nodded, sweat beading on their brows, but their eyes burned with determination.

When the training ended, the courtyard fell quiet except for the sound of their heavy breathing. Asher sheathed his blade and looked over them.

“That’s enough for today,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “Rest, eat, and clear your minds. Tomorrow, I’ll test your soul resonance levels before you leave.”

Then, after a moment of silence, Asher added, “There’s something else I’ve prepared for you all.”

He reached into his spatial ring and drew out a thin, crimson-etched tablet. The instant it appeared, the air thickened—heavy with the weight of ancient power. Soul runes shimmered faintly across its surface, written in the forbidden script of the old Magnus lineage.

“This,” Asher said, holding it up, “is the Sanguine War Art—a cultivation form that can be used with any weapon. It is forged for those who’ve awakened the Blood Ruler ability or its Hybrid—so each of you can wield it in your own way.”

Their eyes widened. Even Amanda, who had seen many battle forms before, tilted her head with genuine interest.