The Damned Demon

The hall, already simmering with tension, erupted as Bernard's incredulity shattered the precarious calm, "Bullshit! Are you telling me that some nobody who is a third of my age is the new Combat Advisor? On whose authority?" he bellowed, disbelief etching deep furrows in his brow.

The worth of his years at the WHA lent a particular venom to his words, trying to put down this brat who was challenging the very foundations of the established order.

Rachel, the eye of the storm, stood her ground, her spine straight as an arrow, her voice cutting through the tumult with firm resolve, "Mine. As the Legion Prefect, I can decide who to appoint as the Combat Advisor of the Starfire Cadre," she declared, her authority unassailable.

Bernard's disdain was palpable as he spat his challenge into the room, a pointed finger singling out the man standing before him, "You picked some junior that nobody knows over me? Who even is this man? What are his qualifications?" The room tensed, awaiting the mysterious man's defense against the verbal onslaught.

Asher, undeterred by Bernard's hostility, replied with a disarmingly casual demeanor and a side smile that belied the gravity of the situation, "I am standing right here unless you have a hard time seeing me. Name's Ash, by the way," His introduction, simple yet tinged with a hint of mockery made the air even more tense.

Rebecca, standing a silent witness to the unfolding drama, fought the urge to intervene and silence this stupid old human, or at least his barking.

Bernard, caught between incredulity and indignation, scoffed at Ash's claim, "Then you heard me. Who the hell do you think you are to dream of taking my position?" he demanded, expecting to cow him into submission.

"I am nobody but a cripple now," Asher's words fell like a stone into the pond of the assembled Hunters, ripples of shock spreading rapidly.

The audacity of his claim, the pride in his supposed weakness, confounded the room. Whispers spread like wildfire—was this a ruse, or was he truly crippled as he claimed?

How brazen was he to enter this hall, let alone this building, by being a cripple?

Bernard's reaction morphed from shock to amusement, his laughter echoing hollowly off the walls, "Hahahaha…"

He turned to Rachel, seeking confirmation of the joke he believed was being played, "Prefect Rachel, I never thought you had such a sense of humor by presenting someone like him before me. It's not good to fool your senior like this," he chided, expecting her to join in his mirth.

Yet Rachel's expression remained firm, her conviction unshaken as she countered, "I am not fooling anyone. I stated the fact. He might be a cripple who barely has any mana circulating in his body, but he was once a powerful S Ranker, and I have no doubt of his capabilities required as a Combat Advisor."

The gathered Hunters gasped in shock and disbelief. This man was a S Ranker? How come nobody heard of him before or even see his picture anywhere in either the internet or news?

No S Ranker in the world was anonymous. Just the list of all the S Rankers in the world would fit in a ten-page book.

That was how rare they were and because of how powerful they were, it was impossible to avoid getting famous in one way or the other unless they never used their powers or lived in a cave.

Upon hearing Rachel's words, Bernard's skepticism found voice as he looked at Ash, "An S Ranker? You? Bullshit," he muttered, his disbelief thinly veiled, his eyes narrowing as they fixed on Ash with a scrutinizing gaze.

"Are you implying that I am lying, Professor Bernard?" Rachel asked as her tone grew sharper.

Bernard, caught between his disdain for the situation and the need to tread carefully due to Rachel's daddy being the fucking President of WHA, managed a smile that didn't reach his eyes, "Of course not. But you still haven't explained how none of us here know him if he truly was an S Ranker," he said, turning to the room at large, "Do any one of you recognize this man?" The silence that followed, broken only by uncomfortable shuffling and avoided glances since nobody wanted to upset the Legion Prefect as well.

But this silence only served to bolster Bernard's argument, "See...nobody knows him."

Asher, thus far an observer in his own defense, interjected with a calm that seemed to only infuriate Bernard further, "You are supposed to be a professor, and yet you don't seem to understand the basics. My background or the fact that I am crippled doesn't detract from my ability to serve as a Combat Advisor."

Bernard's irritation was palpable as he threw down a challenge steeped in condescension, "Then fight me, boy. I am a high-level S Ranker and long retired from duty. But since you are crippled, I won't use any mana to make it fair considering the situation. Let's see if you can prove your words, boy. Or don't tell me it's just empty bravado?"

Rachel, sensing the precipice upon which they teetered, tried to intervene, "Professor Bernard, I don't think this is appro-"

But Asher's agreement cut through her protest, "Sure. If that will help calm down your nerves," he said, his confidence unshaken, prompting a collective intake of breath from the audience.

Was he mad? He was going to fight an old veteran while being a cripple? Did he accept a dare or something to do this here?

Still, considering he got Rachel's recommendation made them come to two conclusions.

Either this man was an unfortunate hidden genius that, surprisingly, nobody knew about. Or he was Rachel's secret boyfriend trying to enter the WHA through the backdoor.

Nobody saw any reason to believe it was the former, so they couldn't wait for the professor to show him his place for trying to cheat the system.

Rachel knew Asher was too strong for his age and level. But Bernard was a High-Level S Rank, and last time she checked, Asher was a peak Soul Purger.

His physical and defensive strength can nowhere be near to that of Bernard. Just what was he thinking?

She felt nervous, wondering if he might end up exposing himself by pushing too hard and, in turn, put her in grave trouble as well.

"At least you are brave. I can give you that," Bernard, accepting the challenge, began to strip down to his waist, revealing a body honed by years of combat, his taunt hanging in the air as he prepared to prove his point.

The gathered Hunters nodded after getting impressed by seeing how fit and in shape the professor was despite being retired and old.

Rebecca couldn't help but have her lips curve into a sadistic smile, feeling she could at least get some satisfaction from seeing this old foolish human getting thrown into a coffin.

If the vile alien had enough strength to easily defeat her despite being one of the strongest Soul Devourers back home, then how can some measly old human stand a chance even if he was a High Level S Rank?

She grudgingly had to admit that this alien was a monster in every way and that one day, he might even rival the Moon Guardian, who was literally a monster.

She just has to make sure to find a way to annihilate him before he can get that chance.

Otherwise, all her hopes and dreams would be lost forever.

As Asher methodically unbuttoned his shirt, the air brimmed with anticipation and schadenfreude.

With a flick of his wrist, the fabric sailed through the air, landing in Rebecca's grasp.

Her catch, though instinctual, was marred by a glare shot towards Asher, betraying her irritation at being relegated to such a menial task.

However, the collective gasp from the crowd, particularly from the women, rippled through the hall like a wave.

Eyes widened, and breaths hitched at the sight of Ash's muscular form; his chiseled torso and the unmistakable outline of an eight-pack abs sculpted to near perfection.

His physique, radiating natural strength and vitality, belied any notion of him being crippled.

Whispers of disbelief mingled with admiration, as the onlookers pondered the origin of such a physique—certainly, not the work of mere steroids since his body looked so naturally strong.

Rachel, caught in the swell of unexpected memories, felt warmth bloom across her cheeks upon seeing his naked torso.

But his golden gaze, now unshielded by the spectacles he had removed, seemed to hold her in a trance for some reason she couldn't put her finger on.

Beside her, Rebecca wrestled with an unanticipated distraction, her attention inexplicably drawn to Asher's form.

A vexed shake of her head did little to dispel the confusion—

what kind of stupid slave crest had he placed upon her to cause her to be distracted like this?

Bernard, meanwhile, could hardly conceal his jealousy. The admiration lavished upon this brat for merely revealing his torso gnawed at him.

Yet, he knew the true test of a Hunter lay not in their muscles but in their skill and resolve.

"Come on, boy," Bernard taunted, his stance ready and voice dripping with scorn, "But remember, if you end up with broken bones, you've only yourself to blame." His confidence, however, was a facade, masking a kernel of doubt stirred by Ash's composed approach.

His instincts were telling him to be careful even though he saw no reason to consider this brat as a challenge.

But Bernard became puzzled when Ash began to advance, walking straight towards him without even assuming a fighting stance which only caused Bernard to become even more infuriated, "You underestimating me, brat?" he barked, frustration coloring his tone.

"Then you will pay for it!" With a swift extension of his arm, Bernard aimed to end the bout with a single punch and crush this brat's arrogance.