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By now, everyone knew that the kid named Asmodeus was special. Why, you may ask? Well, the reasons were as glaring as they were numerous.
The first and most obvious clue was his transformation during his initial awakening. It was rare, almost unheard of, for someone to awaken a bloodline at birth, and yet Asmodeus had done exactly that. When his bloodline awakened, it wasn't just a ripple—it was a tidal wave that shook everyone around him.
The second reason was his reputation at school. In the beginning, Asmodeus was like any other kid: curious, adorable, and occasionally naive. But then, when he turned six months old, everything about him changed. He grew cold, distant, and unfeeling. A dark, threatening aura began to emanate from him, unsettling even the most confident teachers. Then came the beatings. A group of bullies, emboldened by the knowledge that Asmodeus was an orphan, assumed he would be an easy target. But what awaited them was not the meek victim they expected but a force of nature. Asmodeus retaliated with a ferocity that left them broken, beaten to the brink of death.
That incident changed everything. The guild, which had previously dismissed Asmodeus as just another child with A-rank potential, began to take him seriously. A-rank potential was notable, but potential didn't always translate into power. Asmodeus, however, was different. He wasn't waiting for his potential to be unlocked—he was already living it.
But the third, and perhaps most significant, reason was his performance during the trials. The fear trial, meant to push children to the brink of despair, became a spectacle because of Asmodeus. While most kids writhed and screamed in terror, Asmodeus was the first to wake up. Some witnesses even claimed they saw him casually chatting with the malevolent overseer of the trial, as if it were a friendly conversation rather than a test of survival. And his attitude? Carefree, almost amused, as if the trial were a casual stroll through the park.
Yet, it wasn't just his calm demeanor that set him apart. Asmodeus was prone to random, unnerving mood swings. One moment, he was cold and detached; the next, he was smiling or making cutting criticisms of Dreamer—the enigmatic figure who oversaw their trials. It was as if Asmodeus had no concept of fear, no awareness of the consequences of his words.
And now, standing before the gathered children, Asmodeus chuckled. It wasn't a soft, nervous laugh; it was a deep, amused sound, as though he found the entire situation hilarious. The cause of his amusement? The announcement of the next trial's difficulty. It was borderline insanity.
Ignoring the nasty glares from the other children, Asmodeus stood confidently, his thick skin impervious to their judgment. His eyes were fixed on Dreamer, waiting for him to continue.
Dreamer, for his part, gave a wry smile before addressing the group. "Ahem, the next trial is more of an evaluation for the upcoming player-versus-player stage. Here's how it works. You will each face a perfect copy of yourselves. Based on your results, you will be classified into three tiers:
1. Elite among the elite – those who manage to defeat themselves, breaking their limits.
2. Normal elites – those who tie with their copies.
3. Below-average elites – those who lose to their copies.
"And here's the catch," Dreamer added, his tone dripping with mock sympathy. "None of you will die—unless I decide you should, of course. Sad, boring, I know. But don't worry! You will experience immense pain. Fun, right?"
"Insane bastard," someone muttered under their breath.
The crowd froze. Whispers of disbelief spread like wildfire as all eyes turned toward the speaker—a girl with long red hair and fair skin. She was taller than most of the other one-year-olds, standing defiantly at one meter tall. She was Snow, an orphan like Asmodeus and a holder of an S-rank talent. Among the children, she was considered elite, yet even she seemed to tremble slightly under the weight of her own audacity.
"What? Stop staring," Snow snapped, her icy tone silencing the murmurs.
Terrified, the children returned to their business, none daring to provoke her further.
Asmodeus and Dreamer, however, shared the same thought: "Damn! This girl has guts!"
Even Asmodeus, reckless as he often was, had never directly insulted Dreamer. After all, what if Dreamer decided to make his trials hellish for fun? But Snow's words were a direct challenge, and Dreamer wasn't one to let such challenges slide.
Holding back a chuckle, Dreamer's expression darkened. "Oho? Aren't you a brave one? How about increasing the difficulty of your trial? Since you have an S-rank talent, let's make it... ten times harder. Fun, eh?"
Snow's face paled. Her defiance wavered, her pride hanging by a thread, but she stood her ground. She didn't beg or plead for mercy, even though the punishment was effectively a death sentence.
And then, a voice spoke in Asmodeus's mind.
"Yo, kid. Want some extra rewards?"
It was Dreamer.
Asmodeus raised an eyebrow internally but responded in his head. "Depends. What do you want me to do?"
"Well," Dreamer replied, his voice laced with mischief, "I'm technically not allowed to increase the difficulty however I want. So, here's the deal: stand up for the girl and take on the punishment yourself. In return, I'll give you enough information to prepare for the next three trials."
Asmodeus didn't hesitate. "Sure. Why not?"
The chatter among the children died down as Asmodeus's voice, amplified with mana, cut through the noise. "Sir Dreamer, I would like to speak up for Snow."
"Oh?" Dreamer feigned surprise. "What do you mean, Asmodeus?"
Asmodeus bowed slightly, his tone respectful yet confident. "I know Your Excellency only desires the best for us untalented young ones. After all, how could we compare to a figure as great as yourself? However, I believe there's no need to be so strict on those who are merely ignorant. These children were spoiled since birth. They speak whatever comes to mind without understanding the weight of their words."
Dreamer's eyes narrowed. "Are you suggesting she go unpunished?"
"No, Your Excellency," Asmodeus replied smoothly. "I merely suggest a reduction in her punishment. Perhaps double the difficulty instead of tenfold. As for the rest, I will take it upon myself. After all, defeating a mere copy of myself is no challenge for a prodigy in battle."
Dreamer pretended to consider the proposal, rubbing his chin theatrically. "Hmm… fine. But if you're so confident, let's not stop at double. Your trial's difficulty will be increased twentyfold. Surely that's still easy for someone like you, right?"
Asmodeus's lips twitched, but he nodded silently, accepting the terms.
Snow, meanwhile, stared at Asmodeus in awe. To her, he was nothing short of a savior. Were it not for the barriers separating them, she might have thrown herself at him in gratitude.
After a few hours of preparation, Dreamer clapped his hands. "Alright, enough rest. The trials shall begin."
And with that, the stage was set for Asmodeus to prove, once again, that he was no ordinary child.