My Milf System-Chapter 332 - 331. Trials of Ascension

{Asher’s POV}

"Who is that kid?!"

"He’s been ending every match with a single blow!"

"Five gold coins on the brat! Come on, place your bets!"

The roar of the spectators washed over me as I stood in the center of the massive stadium. At my feet, yet another man lay groaning, defeated by a single punch.

It was staggering to think all these people were here to compete for the Key of Ascension. Seeing so many men in the brackets reminded me just how desperate they were for the Wish—the prize the Goddess supposedly grants to those who reach the heavens. But I needed to ascend just as much as they did. I wasn’t holding back.

Finally, after a monotonous string of one-hit victories, a familiar face entered the arena.

It was Joyce, the rowdy hunter I’d met at the church the other day, praying to the god of war.

She had tied her thick, long locks back, and she looked significantly cleaner than she had the other day. She marched forward, hauling a massive greatsword that looked heavy enough to crush stone.

"Your winning streak ends here, boy!" she huffed, her voice carrying across the sands. "Don’t get cocky just because you’ve been bullying these weaklings. Everyone knows a man can’t best a woman... well, unless you’re an S-rank hunter, and I have no intention of losing to a nobody like you!"

’I actually am an S-rank hunter,’ I thought, keeping the smirk off my face. Since I was disguised as my friend Adrian, my usual reputation didn’t precede me. To them, I was just a talented upstart.

"I see you finally took a bath," I said, resting my hands on my hips. "You were looking pretty hideous the other day."

That hit a nerve. Her eyes twitched, her face flushing with sudden rage. "Oh, I am going to beat you to a pulp!"

I gestured for her to advance. "Come on, then. Show me what you’ve got."

She scanned me from head to toe, her lip curling. "Where’s your weapon?"

I reached into my item box and pulled out a single, slender scalpel. I held it up between two fingers. "All I need is this."

The insult hit her like a physical blow. "You’ll pay for underestimating me!"

The referee—a sharp-eyed, curvy young woman—blew her whistle. "Let the match begin!"

Joyce didn’t waste a heartbeat. She charged. I watched her movement closely; she kept her greatsword low but ready, a stance that allowed for a fluid transition between offense and defense. She was definitely a seasoned professional.

As she reached me, she swung the massive blade in a brutal upward arc meant to cleave me in two. Effortlessly, I snapped the scalpel down to meet the edge.

Clang.

The tiny blade didn’t snap. In terms of raw physical stats, she was nowhere near my level, and my scalpels were reinforced with my own aura, making them virtually indestructible.

A collective gasp rippled through the stands.

"That’s insane!" someone shouted from the front row. "He’s literally parrying a greatsword with a metal toothpick! One slip-up and he’s dead!"

A dwarf in the stands stood up, stroking his braided beard. "I’m more interested in the craft of that tiny blade. Who forged such a thing?"

I was distracted for a split second, enjoying the praise, when Joyce shifted gears. She muttered a low incantation, and her greatsword erupted in brilliant orange flames. The heat flared, singeing the hair on my arm.

I performed a series of rapid backflips, creating distance. Joyce stood her ground, smirking as if the fight was already over.

"She’s a Magic Swordsman!" the crowd cheered. "She’s getting serious now!"

Joyce reached up and untied her dreadlocks, letting them fall freely down her back. As they unfurled, I noticed a faint, blue glow pulsing through the strands.

"The kid is as good as dead," a spectator remarked.

"She’s unleashing her full strength... this is going to get ugly!"

The atmosphere in the stadium shifted. Joyce’s face was a mask of pure, concentrated disgust. "To think a puny little man like you would force me to use the blessing of Ares, the God of War! This is humiliating!"

She gnashed her teeth, her grip tightening on the blazing hilt. Suddenly, her hair began to writhe behind her, coiling like the serpents of Medusa.

For the first time since arriving in the Shangani Kingdom, my instincts spiked. I considered drawing my demonic sword, but the thought of the blood-price the blade demanded made me hesitate.

Instead, I pulled a second scalpel from my storage. I braced myself, focusing my magic (pleasure points.)

Joyce lunged. She swung her sword in a wide horizontal sweep, sending a "C" shaped wave of fire and kinetic energy screaming toward me. I summoned a concentrated wind barrier, catching the projectile and parrying it harmlessly into the sky.

But Joyce was relentless. Before I could even think about a counter-attack, she pulled a move straight out of a movie.

Her glowing locks expanded, lashing out like living whips. They coiled around my wind barrier, surrounding me on all sides. With a display of terrifying brute force, the hair began to constrict.

My barrier—which I had always considered nearly impenetrable—began to spiderweb with cracks. My instincts screamed at me to move. I jumped, taking to the air the very instant the barrier shattered into shimmering pixels.

"Whoa! The kid can fly?!"

"There’s more to these two than meets the eye. This might be the best fight in the history of the tournament!"

I hovered for a moment, trying to analyze her reach, but she wasn’t finished. She slammed two of her long locks into the stone floor; they stiffened like steel pillars, catapulting her into the air to meet me at my level.

Just how strong is her hair? I felt a genuine flicker of jealousy. The Blessing of Ares was undeniably cool.

"There’s no running, boy!" she growled, her eyes wild. "You’re mine to crush!"

More locks shot toward me from the periphery like harpoons, while she raised her flaming greatsword high for a finishing blow.

TBC