The Overpowered Transcendent
Chapter 1: The Death?
The hooded figure erupts into laughter, a sinister, mocking sound that reverberates through the dimly lit space. "Now, your head is mine! Hahaha, I win!" he crows triumphantly, swinging his sword menacingly toward my head.
In an instant, a figure emerges from the shadows, an imposing man adorned with a flowing red robe. His striking white hair frames a face accentuated by piercing red eyes, which seem to penetrate the very darkness around us. With precise movement, he steps in front of me and deftly catches the blade mid-swing. "Now, now," he admonishes the hooded assailant with an icy calmness. "Keep your filthy hands off my students. If you come after them again, you won't find any mercy. Do you understand?" A cruel smile creeps across his lips, hinting at the depths of his power.
Furious, the hooded figure slashes again, eyes blazing with fury. "Who do you think you are? You have no right to interfere!"
With an almost casual flick of his wrist, the man meets the blade once more and, to my utter astonishment, shatters it into countless pieces as though it were mere glass. "I warned you, didn't I?" he replies, his tone unyielding.
The hooded figure's expression shifts to one of shock and disbelief. "No way! That was a Kokken! Do you have any idea how prohibitively expensive that blade was?!" His panic ignites an even darker rage within him. "I've had enough of your interference! Time to die!" he bellows, raising his hands dramatically into the air.
The man's lips curl into an amused grin, his confidence seemingly unshakeable. "Oh, he's actually going for it," he muses, almost gleefully.
In the midst of the palpable tension that crackles in the air, I realize I can no longer remain silent. Compelled by a mix of anxiety and a desperate need for clarity, I finally muster the courage to voice my thoughts. My words emerge hesitantly, imbued with confusion and uncertainty. "I haven't the faintest clue about what you're referring to," I admit, my voice trembling slightly as I speak.
As I utter these words, a sudden gust of wind swirls around me, causing my long black hair to whip wildly through the air, adding an almost dramatic flair to the moment. Simultaneously, the wind ruffles my clothing and seems to carry away the weight of my apprehensions, if only for a brief instant. My black eyes dart around, reflecting a mixture of bewilderment and a longing for understanding, hoping that perhaps my perplexity will elicit a more coherent response from the others present. The chaotic exchange we have been caught up in does not just stir my emotions it feels as though it is drawing me deeper into an enigma that I desperately wish to unravel.
Turning his attention to me, the man chuckles lightly before responding, "Ever wondered what happens when you condense magic too much?"
Feeling more lost than ever, I stammer, "No, sir, I haven't the slightest clue."
His grin widens, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Well, it causes an explosion."
I nod slowly, still processing this revelation. "An explosion? I see... wait, what!? We're all going to die!" My heart races at the realization, the gravity of the situation crashing down on me like a tidal wave.
The man waves his hand dismissively, a playful smirk plastered across his face. "Relax, relax. There are several methods to deal with it."
Letting out an involuntary sigh of relief, I stutter, "Oh, thank God!"
But then he scratches his head, his expression shifting slightly. "But all the methods require some form of tanking," he adds casually, as if discussing the weather.
My relief dissipates instantly, replaced by sheer panic. "Wait, what? We're all about to die!"
With a casual wave, he brushes my concern aside. "I'm just kidding! Relax," he assures me, his tone light-hearted as if we weren't standing on the brink of disaster.
I can't help but let out another sigh, a mix of frustration and relief washing over me. "You scared me for a moment there!" I exclaim.
"Well then, let's make a run for it," he states confidently, shifting into a prepared stance.
I raise an eyebrow, incredulity etched across my face. "How do you expect me to get up like this?" I gesture helplessly, still feeling the weight of the situation.
The man responds with an easy grin. "I'll carry you, of course! Don't worry; it'll take time for the explosion to go off. We have time to make a run for it."
Pausing for a moment, I ask hesitantly, "On second thought... what other ideas do you have?"
With a glint of mischief in his eye, he begins to answer, "Well..."
To be continued...