Infinite Evolution System Made Me Too OP!

As the crowd continued to buzz with excitement, the anticipation for the upcoming round built like a wave about to break. Azmodeus and Anna lingered near the edges of the arena, their attention split between the ongoing match and the approaching finals. The tension in the air was palpable, each competitor radiating a quiet intensity that settled heavily over the area.

Anna watched Azmodeus out of the corner of her eye. Since the last round, there'd been a subtle shift in him—a kind of sharpened focus she hadn't seen before. Even now, his gaze was intense, as if he could already see the unfolding of their final match. It just didn't make any sense to her… Even though she knew full well how powerful he was, why did it always seem like he was thinking as if in a different world?

"Azmodeus," she said, breaking the silence, "you're not… nervous about the finals, are you?"

Azmodeus glanced at her, his expression unreadable. "Nervous? No," he replied, a faint smirk playing at his lips. "I just want to ensure I've considered every angle. Assfol isn't the type to let go of grudges easily. He's certain to come at us with everything he has, and not just in the battle, but also in the aftermath." 'I have a lot riding on the momentum created from this tournament; there can be no mishaps,' he thought coldly.

Anna scoffed, crossing her arms. "Let him try. We've made it this far, haven't we? Besides," she added, her tone turning teasing, "I'm pretty sure I can take him on if he tries anything underhanded."

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Azmodeus chuckled, though his gaze remained steady. "I don't doubt it. But it's not his strength that concerns me—it's his desperation. Desperate people can be unpredictable."

Zara and Nova rejoined them, carrying a faint aura of excitement mixed with curiosity. Zara leaned against one of the stone pillars surrounding the arena, her eyes alight with amusement.

"Well, well, seems our quiet Az here has suddenly found himself in the spotlight," Zara teased, nudging him. "You'd better not let Assfol get the better of you, or your newfound fan club might be disappointed."

Azmodeus shook his head, bemused. "Fan club? Hardly."

Nova grinned. "Oh, don't act so modest. You know you've turned some heads—especially after Lady Ming's little stare down during that last match. She doesn't pay attention to just anyone, you know."

Anna raised a brow, her gaze flicking between Azmodeus and the VIP stands. "Wait, she was watching you?" There was a slightly touchy edge to her voice, but Azmodeus only shrugged.

"I suppose. I hadn't really noticed."

"Uh-huh, sure," Zara said, crossing her arms with a knowing smile. "Keep playing mysterious. Maybe it'll work on Lady Ming, too."

Anna huffed, crossing her arms as well. "I don't get what's so special about her. Just because she's the head of the Academy and all…"

Nova chuckled. "Jealous, Anna?"

She shot her a look, then shifted to Azmodeus, her cheeks tinged a faint red. "Please. I just… don't like how everyone's so obsessed with her. That's all."

Their banter was cut short as a sudden hush fell over the crowd. All eyes turned to the center of the arena, where Assfol and his partner stepped forward. His face twisted into a smug grin as he looked their way, his confidence radiating a menacing intensity. Assfol's partner, a tall, shadowed figure known as Kaelin, remained silent, his gaze fixed on Azmodeus with an eerie stillness.

Azmodeus felt the weight of their stares but remained unfazed. His focus was on strategy, on predicting the future, on staying two steps ahead. Assfol might have a grudge, but grudges rarely won battles. However, grudges often lingered, even after the outcome was deemed indisputable.

"Well, well, Azmodeus and Anna," Assfol sneered, his voice carrying across the arena. "I have to say, I'm almost impressed you made it this far."

Azmodeus raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "It's mutual, though I wouldn't count your victory before the match has even started."

Assfol's smirk grew wider. "Oh, I wouldn't dream of it. But don't worry—I'll be sure to make this quick. Wouldn't want to embarrass you in front of all these people, after all."

Anna stepped forward, her voice sharp. "Big words for someone who barely scraped by in the last round."

The crowd reacted with murmurs and soft laughter, and Assfol's expression faltered for a fraction of a second. But he quickly recovered, his smirk twisting into something darker.

"Keep talking, princess. Let's see if your fists back up that mouth of yours."

Before Anna could reply, the overseer's voice rang out across the arena, signaling for silence. The final match was about to begin, and the atmosphere grew electric. Azmodeus felt the surge of energy in the crowd, their anticipation like a charged pulse that ran through him. He took a deep breath, his senses sharpening, his gaze locking onto Assfol and Kaelin.

The overseer's voice echoed once more. "Final match—begin!"

In an instant, Assfol and Kaelin launched forward. Assfol's movements were fast and calculated, his fists aiming directly for Azmodeus, while Kaelin darted to the side, his form blending into the shadows, almost disappearing as he circled around Anna.

Azmodeus dodged Assfol's initial strike with ease, stepping back just enough to let the blow sail past him. He countered swiftly, his fist aiming for Assfol's side, but his opponent blocked it with a forceful deflection, his eyes gleaming with feral intensity.

"Not bad," Assfol taunted. "But let's see how long you can keep up." While remaining conveniently unaware that his opponent was simply putting on a show that didn't make him stand out too much.

Meanwhile, Anna squared off against Kaelin, who moved with an unsettling silence. His attacks were quick and fluid, his shadowy form weaving in and out of her line of sight. She blocked a quick jab, retaliating with a kick that barely missed as he slipped away, his expression unreadable.

"Not so bold now, are you?" Kaelin murmured, his voice low and chilling.

Anna narrowed her eyes. "You'll find I'm full of surprises."

Azmodeus could sense the rising tension, each clash of fists, each near-miss feeding the intensity of the fight. Assfol's movements grew more aggressive, his attacks bordering on reckless as he sought to land a decisive blow. Azmodeus, however, remained calm, deflecting each strike with practiced precision, his mind analyzing Assfol's patterns, waiting for the perfect moment to strike while maintaining his moderately above average physical prowess. But to test the waters a bit further and solidify the destined result…

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