Absolute Cheater

"Yes, kind of," the man replied with a slight nod.

He glanced at them briefly, then added, "You've earned your right."

And with that, he vanished, as if never there to begin with—dissolving into mist on the wind.

The moment the strange gatekeeper vanished, the mist he left behind began to swirl with intent, condensing into a rune-forged path of obsidian and crystal veins that led forward, deeper into the heart of the realm. The trees thinned. The mountains quieted. Even the wind seemed to hush, as if reverent of the place they now approached.

Before them, towering walls carved from the bones of extinct Primordial Beasts rose up, laced with golden sigils that pulsed like a living heartbeat. Beyond them stood World Heart City—the legendary seat of the highest Evolvers, and a place only those who stood at the pinnacle were permitted to enter.

"It's beautiful," Veyra breathed.

The gates opened not with a creak, but with a low, harmonic resonance that echoed through the stone like a chant sung by the world itself. Asher stepped forward, flanked by Valeris and Veyra, and as they passed through the threshold, a pulse washed over them—not hostile, but heavy, as if the city itself was weighing their existence.

And approving it.

Inside World Heart City

The streets gleamed with arcane metal that shimmered in different hues with every step. Floating platforms ferried cloaked figures above and below. Entire towers hovered in the air, tethered only by threads of law and formation arrays. At the very center of the city, rising like the spire of a god's temple, was the Heartspire, a radiant structure that throbbed in tune with the planet's pulse. Around it spiraled dozens of sky bridges, lined with memorials, relic traders, training arenas, and sanctums.

Everywhere, the aura was overwhelming—some quiet and restrained, others blazing and wild. These were no ordinary people. Each passerby was a World Rank Evolver… or stronger.

Veyra whispered, "They all walk like sovereigns…"

Valeris smiled. "Because they are. This city doesn't tolerate weakness. Even the attendants and servants here are at peak Void Rank, supported by high-grade relics."

Asher turned his head slightly, sensing multiple auras watching them. Assessing. Measuring.

"They're sizing us up," he said.

"They'll continue doing so until we establish our standing," Valeris said calmly. "Until then, we're strangers. Curious newcomers. Some may try to challenge us. Others will try to recruit us. And a few… will try to test how much they can get away with."

"Then let them come," Asher said simply. "I didn't come here to hide."

The trio took their time weaving through the marvels of the city. The Heaven-Forged Bazaar greeted them with wares from every realm—dragonsteel blades, void-dyed cloaks, pills forged in the cores of fallen stars, and soulbound spirit beasts kept in compressed stasis.

A grizzled old vendor raised a brow when he saw Valeris approaching, his eyes narrowing as if something in her presence struck a chord deep in his instincts.

"You… you're a Dragon?" he asked, hesitant but unable to hide the suspicion in his voice.

Valeris gave him a cool glance, one brow arching with faint amusement. "Do I look like one to you?"

The old man said nothing at first. His gaze lingered, studying her—too intently. Asher, always watchful, stepped slightly ahead, his expression calm, but his senses sharpened. Quietly, he invoked Absolute Appraisal.

And what he saw made his blood chill.

This wasn't just a harmless old merchant. Beneath the illusion of age and humility was a Peak World Ranker, a predator clothed in worn rags. But worse still—he was no ordinary fighter.

He was a Dragon Hunter.

Asher's vision pierced through the hidden runes laced in the man's bones. The man's flesh bore silent grafts of scale and marrow—fused remnants of slain dragons. Heartbeats that no longer pulsed, but whose strength lingered in the veins of their murderer. Even the man's aura whispered of it: the blood of the sky-kings, repurposed into power.

There were others like him, Asher sensed—an entire hidden caste of apex hunters who had made dragons extinct in this realm. It was no wonder so few of their kind remained. They had been reduced from sovereigns to prey, forced to hide or die.

Valeris sensed it too.

Her golden eyes turned molten, fury crackling just beneath her skin. She didn't need Asher's words—she could feel it in the air. The scent of dragon blood still lingered on him. He had taken it. Killed for it. Fed on it.

But she didn't strike. Not yet.

Instead, Valeris moved one hand slightly, subtly tilting her fingers so the light caught on a ring she wore—an old relic crafted from a true dragon's remains. She released a gentle surge of her aura, allowing it to pass through the ring, carefully masked so the origin seemed external.

The vendor froze.

He glanced at Valeris again, this time with confusion. Then his eyes shifted to her hand. He saw the ring. Felt the aura. And drew the wrong conclusion.

He let out a low sigh, one that hinted at regret. "I see," he murmured. "So that's where it's coming from…"

His tone changed as if nothing had passed between them. The predator's edge dulled into that of a weathered salesman. He smiled, stepping back behind his worn stall with practiced ease.

"Well, I have rare goods from every corner of the realm. Perhaps something might interest the lady and her… consort?"

Valeris said nothing, her expression unreadable—but her hand remained close to her waist, just in case.

Asher gently touched her shoulder. "Come on. We've seen enough here."

He guided her away from the booth, though he could feel the tension radiating from her like a forge ready to erupt. Veyra followed in silence, but her gaze flicked briefly over her shoulder at the man. He had returned to his merchant's smile, but something haunted the edges of it now.

"That old man wasn't just a simple World Ranker—he was an elite among World Rankers," Veyra said, her voice low.

Asher and Valeris both nodded in agreement.

"You're learning quickly," Asher remarked with a hint of approval.

Veyra shook her head. "I just compared his aura to that old dark elf who ambushed us with his four generals. They were both World Rankers, but this one… he's stronger."

Asher nodded again, his expression thoughtful.