Absolute Cheater - Chapter 543
Capítulo 543: Devourer
Asher flexed his numb hand once, then again. The feeling started to return.
“So that’s it,” Asher said calmly. “You stack bloodlines until your body turns into a weapon.”
The werewolf grinned. “Unlike you, I don’t need tricks. No fancy transformations. No borrowed strength.”
It stepped forward, the ground cracking under its weight.
“I look normal,” it said. “But I’m stronger than most monsters.”
It lunged.
Asher met it head-on.
Steel claw slammed into sword again. The impact sent sparks flying, and Asher was pushed back several meters this time.
The werewolf swung its other arm, aiming to crush Asher’s ribs.
Asher ducked under the blow and struck at the side of the knee again.
Clang.
The blade barely scratched the metal skin.
The werewolf laughed and kicked out.
Asher blocked with his forearm and slid backward across the ground, boots digging in.
“You can’t cut steel,” the werewolf said. “And you can’t use blood.”
Asher straightened slowly.
“You’re wrong,” he said. “I just can’t cut it the same way.”
He lowered his sword slightly and adjusted his grip.
“No blood,” Asher continued. “No abilities.”
He looked directly at the werewolf.
“Just force, timing, and precision.”
The werewolf charged again, confident.
Asher waited.
At the last moment, he stepped in close instead of retreating and drove the pommel of his sword straight into the werewolf’s throat.
The metal rang loudly.
The werewolf staggered back half a step, surprised more than hurt.
Asher followed instantly, slashing at the joints—elbow, wrist, ankle—places where the metal plates met.
Clang. Clang. Clang.
Small cracks appeared.
The werewolf’s grin faded.
“Steel breaks too,” Asher said evenly. “You just have to hit the right place.”
The fight wasn’t over.
The werewolf roared and swung again, harder this time.
Asher stayed close. He didn’t try to overpower it. He kept moving, slipping past wide swings, striking only when the opening was right. Each hit landed on the same cracked joints. Elbow. Knee. Shoulder. Again and again.
The metal started to fail.
Cracks spread. Small at first, then deeper. Pieces of steel skin chipped off and fell to the ground.
The werewolf growled, frustration showing on its face.
They fought for a long time.
The ground was torn apart. Stones were shattered. Both of them were breathing hard.
Asher took several hits. His arms were sore, his grip strained, but he didn’t slow down. He stayed focused and kept attacking the weak points.
Finally, one clean strike landed on the knee.
Crack.
The steel shattered.
The werewolf collapsed to one leg with a heavy crash.
Asher didn’t hesitate.
He stepped in and brought his sword down with all his strength.
The blade cut through the broken steel and deep into flesh.
The werewolf screamed.
Its steel body was breaking apart now, large pieces falling away, revealing blood and muscle underneath.
Asher raised his sword again.
“This ends here,” he said.
Just as the blade started to fall, the werewolf’s eyes flared with a strange light.
Its blood surged.
A new power activated.
The broken steel melted away and was replaced by something else. The werewolf’s body blurred, its shape shifting rapidly.
Asher felt it immediately.
“This bloodline…” he said, stopping mid-strike.
The werewolf vanished from where it stood.
The sword cut through empty air.
The werewolf reappeared several meters away, breathing hard but alive.
It laughed weakly. “Close… very close.”
Its body looked unstable now, veins glowing, multiple bloodlines clashing inside it.
The werewolf laughed louder, the sound rough and broken.
“Don’t forget,” it said, spreading its arms, “I have twenty bloodlines.”
Asher didn’t move.
“You’ve only seen two,” the werewolf continued. “Steel Titan… and Sky Ghost. Eighteen more still inside me.”
Its grin twisted. “You’re outmatched.”
Asher looked at it calmly.
“And yet,” he said, “you’re losing.”
The werewolf snarled.
Its body shook as another bloodline activated. Bones cracked. Muscles swelled. Flesh stretched outward.
The ground trembled.
The werewolf grew larger and larger until it towered over Asher, easily ten times his size. Its shadow covered the battlefield.
Asher looked up.
“Hm,” he said. “Goliath Beast bloodline. Size manipulation.”
The giant werewolf nodded slowly. “You do know many things.”
It lifted one massive arm and slammed it down.
Asher jumped back just in time. The impact crushed the ground, leaving a deep crater.
The giant swung again, faster than its size suggested.
Asher ran, dodging between broken stone and debris. Each step was calculated. He didn’t panic.
“Big body,” Asher said quietly. “Slower joints.”
The werewolf roared and stomped forward, trying to crush him.
Asher slid under its leg and slashed upward at the ankle.
The blade bit deep.
The giant howled and staggered.
“Size doesn’t fix bad balance,” Asher said.
The werewolf swung blindly, anger taking over. One hit clipped Asher and sent him rolling across the ground.
Asher stopped himself, stood up, and wiped blood from his mouth.
“You’re stacking bloodlines,” he said. “But your body can’t keep up.”
Veins across the werewolf’s massive form pulsed violently. Its breathing was uneven now.
“Shut up!” it roared and raised both arms.
Asher tightened his grip on the sword.
“You can have twenty bloodlines,” he said evenly. “It won’t matter if you can’t control them.”
The giant charged.
The giant charged, each step shaking the ground.
Asher didn’t run this time.
He moved forward.
At the last second, he shifted to the side. The massive foot crashed down where he had been standing, stone exploding outward.
Asher slashed at the back of the knee again.
The blade went in.
The giant howled and stumbled, one hand slamming into the ground to stop itself from falling.
Asher didn’t stop.
He climbed.
Using the werewolf’s own arm and torn armor plates, Asher ran up its body, cutting as he moved. He struck tendons, joints, and soft gaps where the bloodlines overlapped and failed to merge cleanly.
The giant thrashed, trying to grab him.
Asher jumped off just before the hand closed, landing hard but steady.
The werewolf’s massive body was shaking now. Cracks ran across its skin, not metal this time—flesh tearing under strain.
“You feel it, don’t you?” Asher said. “Your bloodlines are fighting each other.”
The giant snarled. “I can still kill you!”
It forced itself upright and raised both fists for a final blow.
Asher exhaled slowly.
Then his presence changed again.
He didn’t release blood energy outward. He didn’t attack.
He pulled it inward.
The Sanguine Supreme shifted—not to strike, but to suppress.
The werewolf froze for half a second.
Its veins flared violently, then twisted.
“What—” it growled.
“You absorb bloodlines,” Asher said calmly. “But you don’t own them.”
He stepped forward.
“You never made them submit.”
The giant screamed as its body began to shrink uncontrollably. The Goliath form collapsed inward, bones cracking as the size bloodline failed.