Re-Awakened :I Ascend as an SSS-Ranked Dragon Summoner-Chapter 127: Overkill

> GhostReaper99: "WHAT THE ACTUAL FCK WAS THAT?! When did Elder Genes add that move??"*

HexOverlord: "That wasn’t a normal teleport. That was something else. What did I just witness??"

DracoByte: "I play a speed build and I KNOW teleportation doesn’t work like that. Who is this Shadow Oracle?!"

NoScopeKing: "Bro that Ronin dude is Top 500 in Duel Rankings and got DELETED in a single move. Nah, something’s up."

---

As the fight clip spread across gaming servers, Creddit, and even Wipperr, all of these being social media platforms, more theories started popping up.

Some called Shadow Oracle a "veteran smurfing as a noob." Others were convinced he was hacking.

But one thing everyone agreed on—

Elder Genes avatars were NOT supposed to move like that. Even with the critics claiming it had the best graphics in a century, mimicking almost any real life movement. Still...

---

> NeonNexus: "Can anyone tell me when the fck that move he just used was even introduced to the game?? Where’s the patch notes??"*

DigitalSaint: "I swear to god, I main Shadow class and I’ve NEVER seen this sht in the skill tree."*

GlitchFiend: "Nah man, report button is right there. This gotta be an exploit."

Multiple users spammed the match link directly to the Parent Company of Elder Genes, reporting a suspected hacker.

The forum mods, completely overwhelmed, had no choice but to sticky the thread and open a dedicated investigation.

> [Admin Response]:

"We’re currently reviewing this match. Please refrain from spamming reports until we verify if this is a legitimate in-game mechanic or a breach of TOS."

But it was too late.

Millions of eyes were locked onto the name—

Shadow Oracle.

And everyone wanted to know exactly who he was.

Kelvin sat in his containment pod, wide-eyed, jaw slightly slack. His fingers twitched over his virtual HUD, instinctively trying to analyze what he had just witnessed.

’What the actual heck?!’

His nerd brain was running a million calculations per second, but none of them made sense. The game wasn’t supposed to allow that.

Noah—Shadow Oracle—had just deleted Ronin. Pixelated him in a single, clean hit.

Without much difficulty.

Without breaking a sweat.

The whole thing wasn’t adding up.

His mind scrambled for answers.

First Match. Zero wins. Zero losses.

No official tournament records. No past ranked placements.

Yet, he moved like a goddamn monster.

Even Ronin, a Top 500 Duelist, had been playing cautiously, testing the waters. And Noah? He played him like a damn fiddle.

Kelvin’s eyes flickered to the side. ViralPsycho was motionless in his own containment pod, staring at the battle feed like he had just watched a horror movie in real-time.

Kelvin could see the exact moment his opponent’s confidence shattered.

This wasn’t some regular player. No, Noah was clearly aware of what he was doing. This wasn’t a newbie learning the ropes.

And he had no idea that ViralPsycho had already sent this match link to the Elder Genes community. Meaning the entire gaming world was watching this unfold.

A chill ran down Kelvin’s spine.

’Noah... Who the hell are you?’

A loud BZZZT! echoed through the arena, followed by a sharp mechanical voice:

[Elimination Confirmed. Contestant: Ronin]

The entire battlefield flickered for a moment, as if even the system itself had to process what had just happened. Then, with a hydraulic hiss, ViralPsycho’s containment pod unlocked.

The player stepped out slowly, his movements far more controlled than before.

Something about him felt different now.

Noah’s sharp eyes locked onto him, reading every twitch of his fingers, every micro-adjustment in his stance.

’He’s not taking me lightly anymore.’

For a brief moment, though, Noah wasn’t even thinking about his opponent. His mind was still processing what he had just done.

Null Strike worked exactly like it did in real life.

A single punch. A single touch. Complete deletion.

It erased everything within its range. Gone.

And the wildest part?

It had only cost 5 Void Energy.

’That’s impossible…’

Normally, Null Strike was ridiculously energy-consuming. If he had tried to pull that off in real life, he would’ve burned through 100 Void Energy in a single hit.

But here? Five.

A 5% cost reduction for an ability that could annihilate anything it touched.

That was insane.

’This game… My system really did hack it, huh?’

Noah clenched his fists, feeling the thrill crawl up his spine. This wasn’t just a game anymore.

It was a virtual battlefield where his real-life abilities worked like a cheat code.

He exhaled slowly, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

’Alright, then. Let’s see what this last guy can do.’

ViralPsycho cracked his knuckles, electricity flickering between his fingers. His eerie plague doctor mask tilted slightly, as if analyzing Noah through its dark lenses.

Then, without warning—

He dashed forward.

With ViralPsycho approaching, Noah smirked.

His system had basically hacked Elder Genes, right? It had synced his real-life powers into the game, rewriting its very code to bend to his will.

’Meaning… all my Void abilities should work here.’

That in itself was incredibly hard to even process. It wasn’t just a glitch or an exploit—it was a complete reprogramming of the game.

’This is something Kelvin would geek out over…’

Noah wasn’t a tech guy, not like Kelvin. He didn’t care about the how. He only cared about what he could do with it.

And right now?

He was tempted.

Tempted to push further. To experiment.

For one, he wanted to summon Nyx.

But… that felt like going too far.

His dragon was still incubating Storm’s evolution. If he summoned Nyx here, what would happen? Would it work? Would his dragon manifest in the game?

Or worse…

Would Nyx appear in the arcade itself?

’Not worth risking.’

Instead, he settled for something more subtle.

BZZZT!

ViralPsycho’s Glitch Field activated.

A red wave of static erupted from the masked player, distorting the battlefield into a warped, fractured mess.

Noah’s vision broke apart. The world twisted at impossible angles. Reality itself shattered like glass.

It was a brilliant ability, one he had already seen destroy Kelvin’s defenses.

And he had no counter for it.

His movements would be scrambled. His perception would be unreliable.

He couldn’t just void blink wildly to escape. That was too reckless.

Instead…

He had to do something smarter.

Leave.

And then return.

Not from the game.

From this distorted reality.

"Domain,"

And immediately, a dark energy came out of nowhere, sweeping Shadow Oracle away.

ViralPsycho and Kelvin watched the arena in silence.

At first, they assumed Noah had teleported, much like he had done during his fight with Ronin. But within seconds, they realized…

This was different.

Teleportation was instant.

Shadow Oracle had vanished, but he hadn’t come back.

How?

Kelvin’s mind raced. He knew every function and ability the game had available. No avatar—not even the rarest Elder-ranked ones—had the ability to simply exit the battlefield without the game recognizing it.

Yet here they were.

ViralPsycho’s fingers twitched violently. His entire body felt like it was buzzing with irritation.

Had Shadow Oracle quit?

Was he... bored?

Most veterans got that way when fighting noobs. They’d test a player, see if they were worth their time, and if they weren’t? They’d leave.

’Did he just decide I wasn’t worth it?!’

His heart pounded. That couldn’t be it.

"Get back here! Don’t you fucking quit on me!" ViralPsycho growled, his voice raw with frustration.

He knew Shadow Oracle was still in the match.

If he had actually quit, the system would have notified him.

So where was he?

Seconds ticked by.

Then—

BZZZT!

ViralPsycho’s Glitch Field collapsed.

The red distortion faded. The battlefield returned to normal.

And then—

A swirling mass of purple energy erupted from the ground where Noah had vanished.

From within the void…

Shadow Oracle stepped out.

This time—

He was holding the Eclipse Blade.

Viralpycho didn’t know what the hell just happened—but it didn’t matter.

Because Shadow Oracle was already charging at him.

Fast.

Determined.

Intent on finishing this fight before ViralPsycho’s special skill could recharge.

Noah gripped the Eclipse Blade tightly, its dark metal absorbing the ambient light. He could feel it—the passive ability humming within the weapon, waiting to be unleashed.

Void Edge.

It didn’t require a vocal command. No unnecessary hand gestures. The blade knew.

It obeyed.

A deep purple glow spread from the hilt, seeping across the short blade, outlining its deadly edge in a thin, unstable light.

’Alright, let’s get this over with.’

Noah darted forward.

ViralPsycho readied himself, raising his fists, expecting a straight sword attack—

But Noah wasn’t predictable.

He dropped low, his foot sweeping out in a brutal leg kick. ViralPsycho stumbled to the side, but Noah was already twisting, his elbow cracking against ViralPsycho’s ribs before flipping backward to dodge the counterattack.

A glitched fist swiped at Noah’s face, but he saw it coming.

He sidestepped— then followed it with a swing of his left hand, gut punch, it was a clean hit.

ViralPsycho grunted, skidding back. His body glitched briefly, stabilizing again.

Noah didn’t stop.

He pursued, dropping his shoulder and ramming ViralPsycho backward before bringing his knee up into his opponent’s chest.

-10 HP

Noah’s foot planted firm—he pivoted.

Roundhouse kick.

ViralPsycho barely dodged.

Noah smirked.

’Almost time.’

This content is taken from fгeewebnovёl.com.

The Eclipse Blade hummed violently.

Noah went for the finish with Void Edge activated.

Noah vanished—a last-second Void Blink closing the distance instantly.

SLASH!

The Eclipse Blade tore through ViralPsycho’s defense.

A pixelated tear spread across his avatar’s form.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then—

BOOM.

ViralPsycho’s HP dropped.

-45 HP

His body staggered back, glitching violently.

Noah took a deep breath, grinning.

’Overkill? Yeah. But I wanted to make a point.’

ViralPsycho’s fingers twitched.

What... was that?!

Noah turned away, making the Eclipse blade shift back into his Void storage.

There was no need to continue.

ViralPsycho staggered, his hands trembling as he looked down at himself.

Something was wrong.

A black energy began to spread around his body, acting like an acid, corroding his avatar’s body in real time.

[Entropy Touch]

This was Noah’s parting gift.

His HP ticked down.

9…

8…

ViralPsycho’s breath hitched. He wasn’t moving. His avatar’s body flickered, distorting.

7…

Noah walked forward, indifferent, his gaze locked on the exit portal forming ahead.

6…

ViralPsycho clenched his teeth. No way.

’That wasn’t a normal skill.’

His fingers twitched as he tried to move—but his limbs weren’t responding.

5…

Noah barely glanced over his shoulder. ’It’s over.’

4…

Kelvin stood frozen in place even when his containment pod opened, watching ViralPsycho’s form slowly fade.

’What the hell is this?!’

3…

Millions of players watched, their screens flooded with messages.

2…

The entire battlefield was silent.

1…

ELIMINATED.

A loud chime rang.

[Match Over!]

[Winners: Shadow Oracle & Dr_Havoc!]

The game’s announcement boomed across the arena.

ViralPsycho’s avatar pixelated completely. His screen flashed red.

DEFEAT.

Noah stopped at the edge of the arena, letting out a slow breath.

’That was… interesting.’

He smirked. He really was going to enjoy this game.