Absolute Cheater

He vanished.

And reappeared in eight different timelines at once.

Each version of Asher struck the King of Black Seasons simultaneously—every possible future of Asher bringing down the scythe from a different direction. Top. Below. Side. Past. Future. Now. Always.

The King staggered. His form fractured—petals turning to dust, his voice glitching through centuries.

But he wasn't finished.

He dropped the spear.

And raised both hands.

"Last Harvest."

Every drop of time that had ever touched the King returned to him. Eons flowed backward—turning him young, ancient, eternal, newborn, decayed all at once. His form expanded into a black aurora of entropy incarnate.

He screamed—

—and launched forward, dragging the end of every timeline he had conquered behind him like a cloak of death.

But Valeris intercepted.

Dragonlight Requiem: Infinity Pulse.

She flung herself into his path, igniting the last of her soul in a supernova of harmonic light. Her voice rang like a chime forged of memory and fire.

"YOU WILL NOT TOUCH HIM!"

The light pierced through the King's cloak of dead time, carving a tunnel of radiance. His advance halted. He stumbled.

Asher struck from the tunnel's end.

One final move.

Nihility Bloom: Rebirth of the Black Star.

The black star pulsed once. Then inverted—collapsing inward, devouring every ounce of time, age, decay, and entropy in the King's core.

His body was consumed from all directions, turned inside out across existence.

His final words were a whisper only Asher heard:

"Even gods… fade."

The King of Black Seasons was gone.

And silence finally settled.

But not peace.

From the shattered remnants of the sky—he came.

The Forgotten Emperor.

The one who remembered everything that should have stayed dead.

The skies wept stars.

Where the King of Black Seasons had fallen, only a field of withered time remained—flowers that never bloomed, dreams that died unborn. The battlefield hung on the edge of silence.

Then…

It cracked.

A soundless shatter tore through reality. Space inverted upon itself.

From the breach stepped a being that made the Four Kings seem like flickers in a storm.

The Forgotten Emperor had returned.

He wore no armor—only a tattered robe woven from threads of time, shadow, and imperial blood. His eyes were voids within voids—universes that had given up. His presence made the heavens buckle, made Asher step back instinctively, for the first time in this war.

Where the Four Kings had represented fragments of the empire, the Emperor was its corpse… and its god.

His voice was the hush before a mass execution.

"You killed my sons," he said, without anger. Just truth.

"You broke the empire's chains."

"But I am the Empire."

He raised a hand.

And erased the battlefield.

Asher and Valeris were thrown across a void plain—no ground, no sky, just infinite nothing smeared with the echoes of dying realities. The very laws of motion bent sideways here.

The Forgotten Emperor descended.

He moved once—and was already in front of Asher.

His palm struck Asher's chest.

Everything imploded.

Asher was hurled backwards, tumbling through layers of null-gravity, cracks webbing across his ribs. Blood spattered the void, frozen in stasis before vanishing into the unreal.

"What… was that…?" Asher coughed, eyes wide.

Valeris lunged forward, blazing with light, but the Emperor gestured—and time around her collapsed inward. She dropped, frozen mid-step, caught in a moment of hesitation that looped endlessly.

"You are nothing," the Emperor said softly.

Then his blade appeared—Imperium Fang, forged from the collective authority of a thousand dead dynasties.

He swung it once.

Asher blocked with his scythe—

—but the impact shattered his defense. The scythe snapped in half.

Asher was hurled like debris, smashing into unseen forces, his body bouncing between cracks in reality like a pinball caught in a god's tantrum.

And yet…

He rose.

One eye swollen. Blood dripping down his jaw. One wing fractured, trailing black fire.

He smiled.

"You think this is me at my peak?"

He stood tall, the void behind him spiraling into fractal patterns. His body began to radiate layered seals—eight, visible as golden-black rings of power carved into his skin, into his soul.

Each one pulsed with ancient glyphs, dragonblood engravings, and dimensional brands.

He raised a trembling hand—and tapped his chest.

"First Seal: Released." A golden Chain broke, turned Out Asher have placed many selas on himslef to train him in battle experince, his overwhelming power often lead him to defeat his opponent easily so he placed selas on himlsef, sealing 80% of his powers, And he released one seal seeing Emperor is more powerful thne 20% of his total powers.

His aura howled.

Chrono-Void blood roared through his veins. His flesh knitted itself together with raw power. His broken wing healed, reforming into a construct of warpfire and starlight.

30% of his total power.

The void blinked.

The battlefield couldn't contain the sudden eruption of energy. Entire timelines split around him, branching off into screams and light.

The Emperor paused.

"…Ah," he said. "There it is. The heresy I locked away. The bloodline I banished."

Asher vanished.

Not with teleportation. Not with speed.

He just ceased to be in one place—and was somewhere else.

Right behind the Emperor.

His broken scythe reformed in his hand—Voidfang, reborn through sheer intent, now fused with Soulblood, Voidfire, and Chrono Venom.

He swung.

The Emperor blocked.

But the impact bent time itself.

Asher was already mid-combo, chaining attacks like storms chaining lightning:

Nihility Step → Blink Spiral: appearing above and below in simultaneous temporal reflections.

Oblivion Drive: a downward slash that split inertia, making the Emperor sink into the unreal.

Voidrend Torrent: twelve consecutive scythe strikes in under one breath, each one aimed at a different existential layer of the Emperor's being.

The Emperor snarled—eyes flashing.

He countered with Sovereign Wrath Pulse, a burst of imperial will that flung Asher back. Then a forward lunge—blade-first—Final Edict Slash, a move that rewrites reality to obey his decree:

"You bleed now."

Asher did bleed. His chest split open, not from force, but from command.

But he grinned.

Spat blood.

And responded.

"I rewrite laws."

He clapped his hands together.

Nihility Dominion: Law Devourer Field.

The Emperor's edict collapsed—crushed under Asher's zone of conceptual annihilation. Authority, logic, physics—all began to die.

Then Asher exploded forward again, pushing 30% of his full sealed might, warping reality with his every step.

Chrono-Crescendo Assault.

He struck in rhythm—each blow resonating with a different layer of history, his own and the world's

Each strike shouted that memory into the void—and with each, the Emperor staggered.

Blood ran from the corner of the Emperor's mouth. His robes burned.