Maren felt the weight of his words settle in.
There was no hesitation in them, no exaggeration or empty threat, just a calm certainty that made them far more dangerous. He wasn't provoking. He wasn't boasting. He was stating a result he had already accepted.
And that alone was enough to unsettle her.
Memories surfaced uninvited—the dungeon raid, the way he had moved, the efficiency, the complete lack of struggle even in situations that should have pushed anyone to their limits. When she combined those memories with what she had just witnessed moments ago, a clear and unavoidable conclusion formed in her mind.
She knew exactly what kind of future this confrontation would lead to.
Einar was powerful. That wasn't up for debate. His blood regeneration alone made him nearly impossible to wear down in a conventional fight, and his ability to turn anything he touched into a weapon gave him an advantage in almost any environment.
On top of that, his draconic transformation pushed his already overwhelming physical capabilities into something monstrous, and his mastery over weapons, especially the sword, placed him among the most dangerous combatants alive.
He wasn't just an S-ranker.
He was a walking disaster.
But the man standing in front of him…
Maren's gaze shifted slightly toward Ashan.
…didn't fit into any category she understood.
There was no clear limit to him, no measurable scale. His mana levels couldn't be read properly, his abilities didn't align with any known system, and everything he had shown so far had broken common logic without effort. Killing an S-rank level monster alone and subduing a soul dragon as if it were nothing more than an object,
That wasn't strength.
That was something else entirely.
And because of that, the conclusion was simple.
Einar couldn't win.
Maren didn't hesitate.
She stepped forward instantly, placing her hand firmly against Einar's chest to stop him from advancing further.
"Einar, stop," she said, her voice steady despite the tension. "This man is not an enemy. He helped us. That dragon golem.. he secured it before it could become a catastrophe. We don't have the right to claim it."
Einar didn't even look at her.
His killing intent continued to rise, thickening the air around him.
"Is that so?" he said, his tone low and dismissive. "Then I'll ignore the golem."
His gaze remained fixed on Ashan.
"But I won't ignore the fact that this nobody insulted me," he continued, his voice sharpening. "That requires correction."
There was a brief pause before he added, almost as an afterthought,
"And besides… do you really think that thing is human?"
His lips curled slightly.
"I want to confirm that myself."
Maren's expression tightened. "Einar…"
"Step aside."
This time, she wasn't the only one who intervened.
Celestia moved.
She grabbed his arm without hesitation, her fingers tightening around him as she stepped closer, her composure finally cracking.
"Uncle, please stop," she said, her voice trembling despite her effort to control it. "This isn't you. This anger.. it's not natural. It's a side effect of the draconic influence. You need to calm down."
Einar let out a low growl, irritation flashing across his face.
"You think I'm weaker than him?" he snapped. "No. I'm stronger. I just want to test him."
Celestia said nothing.
By the time Einar spoke again, she had already seen enough to understand a truth that no one else present had even begun to grasp. The brief moment her eyes had lingered on Ashan earlier had been enough, more than enough, for her ability to take effect, revealing far more than she had expected, and far more than she was prepared to accept.
At first, what she saw made sense only in the most basic way.
His physical body was undeniably human, yet it existed at a level that defied logic.
Every aspect of it was pushed to an extreme, his stamina overflowing beyond reason, his focus unnaturally sharp, his endurance far exceeding what any normal structure could support. His muscles were perfectly formed, refined to their absolute peak while still retaining fluidity, as though every movement he made had already been optimized countless times.
But even that wasn't what unsettled her.
It was what lay beneath.
There were three different types of energy flowing through his body, moving in a way that resembled a calm yet endless storm. One of them she recognized immediately. It was mana, dense and refined, but the other two were completely foreign to her senses, neither behaving like energy she had studied nor following any known pattern.
They didn't clash with the mana. They coexisted, weaving through his body in perfect balance, as though they had always belonged together.
There was a core within him.
She could feel it.
But she couldn't see it clearly.
Something was obscuring it, distorting her perception just enough to prevent her from understanding its true nature.
And then she realized something even more disturbing.
His body wasn't stable.
It was constantly pushing itself beyond its own limits, every muscle straining at its peak as though it were on the verge of breaking, yet at the same time, it was repairing itself just as quickly, maintaining a perfect equilibrium between destruction and restoration. It wasn't natural. It wasn't sustainable.
And yet, it worked.
That alone shattered her expectations.
But when her perception moved deeper,
Toward his soul,
Everything she thought she understood collapsed completely.
There was no darkness born from cruelty or malice.
No corruption.
What she saw first… was light.
A soul that was steady and unwavering, shaped by determination, restraint, and a quiet strength that refused to bend. There was kindness in it, not soft or naive, but controlled, held back as though it had been deliberately restrained for a purpose. It felt disciplined, almost confined, as if the person himself was forcing that nature into silence behind a constructed mask of coldness.
But layered over that, there was something else.
Something that did not belong.
A presence that was cruel, merciless, and suffocating in its nature, carrying with it an overwhelming sense of pride and destruction. It wasn't fully dominant, but it existed within him like an imprint, something embedded deep into his being.
The essence of something that should not coexist with the light she had just seen.
And yet… it didn't consume him.
If anything, it had been suppressed.
Overpowered.
That contradiction alone made no sense.
But what unsettled her the most was the final realization.
She couldn't see the true shape of his soul.
It was there, she knew it was, but something stood in the way, an unknown layer that prevented her from fully perceiving it, as if his very existence was being shielded from observation.
Celestia's grip tightened slightly without her noticing, her thoughts spiraling as the conclusion formed.
'What… is he?'
She had never encountered anything like this before.
Not once.
'He's not normal… he's not even consistent… he's..'
'A mess.'
Before she could gather herself enough to speak again, Einar's patience broke.
Without turning his head, he raised his hand slightly, and an invisible force surged outward. The telekinetic wave struck both her and Maren at once, pushing them back with controlled force, not enough to injure them, but more than enough to remove them from his immediate reach.
Around them, the other S-rankers reacted instantly, retreating as well. No one needed to be told what was about to happen. The tension in the air had already made it clear.
If they clashed, it wouldn't stay contained.
Ashan's eyes opened fully.
"So," he said, his voice calm, almost indifferent despite everything that had built up between them, "you've decided to fight me."
Einar didn't answer immediately.
The air around him thickened as his draconic presence rolled outward once more, heavier now, more focused, pressing down in slow, suffocating waves.
The cracked stone beneath his boots groaned under the pressure, fine fractures spreading further as the ground itself reacted to his presence.
"Decided?" he scoffed at last, his voice low. "No."
His gaze sharpened.
"I chose to."
Maren gritted her teeth as she pulled Celestia farther back, every instinct screaming that remaining anywhere near the center of this clash would be suicidal.
There was no more time.
Einar moved first.
There was no warning, no buildup, no visible preparation.
The air detonated beneath his feet as he vanished, the ground collapsing inward a fraction of a second too late to match his speed.
Ashan's Sharingan spun rapidly.
Einar appeared directly in front of him, already mid-strike, his arm transformed as blackened scales spread across the skin, draconic muscle swelling with explosive force. The attack was simple, direct, and overwhelming, a blow meant to end the fight before it could properly begin.
His fist came down toward Ashan's shoulder like a falling meteor.
Ashan didn't move.
Not even slightly.
He met the attack head-on, catching the strike before it could land fully.
The impact detonated outward.
The ground beneath him exploded under the force, a violent shockwave tearing through the battlefield as debris scattered in all directions. Even those watching from a distance were forced to brace themselves against the pressure.
Maren's breath caught in her throat.
"He attacked first…!"
Einar's eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of genuine surprise crossing his face as his fist remained suspended mid-air, completely halted.
"Impressive," he admitted, his tone carrying a trace of respect. "To take that without.."
His words stopped.
His body froze.
Completely.
Every muscle locked in place as his control vanished in an instant, his limbs refusing to respond no matter how much force he exerted.
Einar's expression shifted sharply as realization hit.
"What is this?" he growled, his body trembling slightly as he tried to move. "Did you…"
Ashan released his grip without answering and simply turned away, as though the situation had already lost its importance.
"I almost forgot," he muttered, walking toward the dragon golem without a hint of urgency.
"I can't let a stubborn idiot damage my property."
He placed his hand against it.
In the next moment, the massive golem disappeared.
Completely.
Shock rippled through the battlefield.
"It's gone…!"
Draven's mind raced as he stared at the empty space where the enormous body had been moments ago.
'Storage…? That size? Impossible…'
Even Einar paused for a brief moment before forcing his focus back.
He tried to move again.
This time, he understood.
The issue wasn't his muscles, i t was his blood.
It wasn't flowing properly.
The connection between his intent and his body had been disrupted.
His fury surged.
"Blood manipulation…!"
Ashan glanced back at him, his expression unreadable behind the mask.
"Oh? So you figured it out," he said casually. "Then what's the problem? Can't the mighty half-dragon deal with something like that?"
Einar's lips pulled into a dark, irritated smile.
"I suspected it," he admitted. "There was no scent. That alone was strange… but I ignored it."
His eyes sharpened, filled with hostility.
"You filthy vampire… walking among humans and pretending to be one of them."
Mana surged violently through his body, forcing its way through every blocked pathway.
And then, it broke.
All of it.
At once.
Ashan's eyes widened ever so slightly.
'Interesting…'
Einar slammed his foot into the ground, cracking the earth beneath him as control returned fully to his body.
"You can fool others," he growled, his voice thick with killing intent, "but not me."
His gaze burned with fury.
"I'll rip that mask off your face… and pull out your teeth one by one."
Ashan slowly clenched his fist.
"You're free to try," he replied.
His voice dropped slightly, carrying a quiet finality that cut through the tension.
"But be ready."
His gaze locked onto Einar.
"Because after this…"
"…you won't be the same."