Reincarnated With The Degenerate System

The moment my spear hit the ground, my shadow raged around me like a beast finally let off its leash.

The air temperature dropped. My heartbeat steadied. Everything slowed down into that razor-thin clarity I only got right before I began my massacre.

Across from me, the fan-user—coat fluttering like he walked straight out of a dramatic entrance audition—stood calm. Eyes still closed, not taking me seriously.

"Do you really plan to fight me with your eyes closed?" I called out, my arms tightening around the spear.

"Are you even worth it?" he asked.

"Worth it?" My stance sank lower, the ground fracturing beneath my feet.

If there was one thing that could make my blood pressure skyrocket faster than a rampaging dragon, it was people who farm aura in front of me. That was my thunder.

My lip twitched. 'Fucking show-off.'

Wind cracked like thunder as he raised his fan higher, and I swear he leaned back just a little—purely for dramatic effect.

Dust swirled around him but never touched him. The air itself obeyed his personal bubble.

"I'll end this fight in a blink." I stepped forward, and the shadows followed, dragging themselves forcibly against the wind.

Then I planted my foot.

"Moon Needle Thrust. Shadow Overload!"

The ground exploded beneath me—stone fracturing outward—and the shockwave snapped into a sharp sonic boom that punched a crater into the wind. I shot forward, body blurring, spear already coming up for the kill.

My speed was no joke. Enough to cut through hurricanes.

So when the world suddenly felt like it had been dipped in jelly, I blinked—mid attack.

"What—?"

The wind peeled away half my momentum. Fifty percent. Gone. Just like that.

He tilted the fan, barely moving it, and the air the air didn't just slow me this time around. It stopped me completely.

Then he flicked the fan again as if shooing away a fly.

BOOOOM!

I felt the hit before I understood it.

A wall of wind slammed into me with the kind of force meteorologists would label as Signal Number Five . My ribs rattled. And I was suddenly airborne, launched by several meters in a split of second.

The wind didn't even let me fall.

Every time gravity tried to do its job, another blast shoved me higher, tossing me around. Fine. If the ground wasn't an option, I'd make my own.

I twisted, jammed my spear upward, and drove it into the ceiling. Stone cracked, dust exploded, and my body snapped to a halt. My legs swung beneath me as I dangled from the embedded weapon, using it as an improvised anchor.

Below, the wind storm raged.

My shadow lashed out, claws of darkness ripping at the gale. Tendrils tried to carve footholds. But his wind wasn't just strong—it was everywhere.

Each time my shadow pushed, his wind dispersed it.

Pillars began to give.

One cracked.

Another groaned like it regretted being built here.

They started collapsing one after another, stone crumbling under the relentless pressure. Not even my fight against the boss had left this much devastation.

'Who the hell is this guy?'

No wonder he was so confident, striding in like he owned the place and demanding my spoils in the open. Whoever he was, this wasn't a mere S-Rank strongman—this was a force of nature disguised in human skin, someone who had every reason to believe nothing in the world could stop him.

However, I wasn't serious yet in the first exchange, so things were still under control.

The wind started to die down a bit, even him could not sustain it, and when it did I drop to the ground and we both just stood there.

"To think you withstood that…" he murmured, head tilting just a fraction

"You're more powerful than an average S‑Rank," he continued, that half‑smile sharpening. "Even without a celestial weapon like mine."

My eyebrow twitch.

So that little fan was a celestial weapon.

My mind ran the numbers. He could probably finish the boss with only fifty people buying him time, maybe even fewer. And still have energy left.

"And how can you be sure that I'm not holding one?" I casually asked.

"Your weapon is indeed stronger than average," his voice was almost scholarly, "but it's far from being a celestial weapon. I would know—every celestial weapon resonates with others when used. Every. Single. One."

He paused, letting the words sink in.

"And yet…" His lips curved into that infuriating half-smile again. "I felt nothing when facing it."

I clenched my jaw, feeling that familiar spark of irritation flicker right behind my teeth.

This bastard was actually bragging that his little wind‑powered toy was leagues better than my Moonlight Dragon Spear.

The nerve.

He stood there—completely relaxed—without even bothering to form a guard.

Meanwhile, I had to physically restrain myself from planting my spear right between his closed eyes—just to see if he'd finally open them.

"Oh, I get it," I muttered, rolling my shoulders as my shadow rose behind me in jagged waves. "You're that type. The kind who thinks anyone without a shiny divine cheat code is beneath you."

He didn't deny it. That made it worse.

"Congratulations," I added, voice dropping low. "You've officially made it to my personal list of people I want to bury underground."

"And since you're so confident in that toy of yours…" I continued, stepping forward as cracks webbed beneath my foot, "…let me teach you a lesson."

My spear throbbed in my grip. "You're not the only one with a cheat."

As if on cue, my Qi shot outward, a violent surge that met my shadow energy mid‑air and twisted into a new type of power.

The darkness didn't just ripple around me this time. It thickened. Hardened. Shifted.

Instead of a smoke shroud clinging to me, the shadow began stacking—layer after layer—like invisible hands were forging armor around my body in real time.

A chestplate snapped into existence first, plates sliding into place.

Then the pauldrons—sharp, flared, unmistakably reminiscent of that ancient, egotistic monkey god's armor from before, but this time in a pure, devouring black.

Gauntlets formed next, layered with intricate shadow etchings that flickered like runes caught between reality and nightmare.

Greaves locked around my legs with a resonant thud. And for the final piece, the shadow rose toward my head—not forming a helmet, but something far more fitting.

A dark crown.

When the final piece clicked into place, I looked like a king ready to fight the heavens.

THUD!

I slammed the butt of my spear into the ground . This time, it didn't just vibrate.It reverberated.

The sound that followed wasn't metal ringing, nor stone cracking—

It was a hum.

Low, rising, tidal.

A roaring echo like an ocean wave smashing against a cliffside—but instead of water, it was pure shadow crashing outward, devouring light as it passed.

I tilted my head slightly, the movement barely more than a twitch. But my eyes?

They flared open, bright green, burning with too much intensity that pushed through the darkness clinging to me.

"So," I said, voice echoing with that layered depth from inside the armor, "still think I'm not worth opening your eyes for?"