Absolute Cheater - Chapter 246

Chapter 246: Taking the Treasure
The air shimmered with a quiet, almost sacred stillness at the edge of the Core Region.

Valeris stepped through the last veil of light, her boots clicking softly on the obsidian floor streaked with veins of silver essence. Her robes clung to her like stardust, still damp from the emotional tide she had passed through. Her breath caught as the chamber widened before her—immense, cosmic, alive.

And standing in its center, bathed in the light of the Rift’s heart, was Asher.

He wasn’t injured, but the weight in his posture was unmistakable. Sword sheathed across his back, wings tucked close, gaze distant. The trial had left its marks—not scars, but impressions deeper than flesh.

She exhaled, half a laugh, half a sigh.

“I lost again,” she said, the words carrying more exasperation than sorrow.

Asher blinked and turned, golden eyes landing on her. A faint smile touched his lips.

“You’re late.”

Valeris arched a brow and gave a sarcastic bow. “Forgive me, oh punctual one. My inner child decided to have a full-blown meltdown.”

Asher chuckled, and the sound warmed the chamber more than the Rift’s glow ever could.

“I fought myself,” he said. “Literally.”

“Let me guess,” she smirked. “He was taller?”

He tilted his head slightly. “Colder. Deadlier. Angry.”

He paused, then added, quieter, “I don’t hate him anymore.”

Valeris nodded. “That’s the real win.”

A beat passed between them. Then she nudged his shoulder lightly.

“But still—first one to the Core? You smug bastard.”

He looked mock-offended. “It wasn’t a race.”

“Oh, please. Everything’s a race with you.”

He turned fully toward her now, and there was a softness in his eyes that made her chest ache.

“We both made it,” he said. “That’s what matters.”

She hesitated, then nodded, her earlier frustration fading like dust.

Together, they turned toward the Nexus—the Core itself. It pulsed with slow, ancient rhythm, like a heartbeat caught between lifetimes. The energy within it wasn’t just powerful—it was sentient. Watching. Waiting.

Valeris frowned slightly. “Do you feel that?”

Asher’s hand moved to his blade. “Yeah. Something’s waking up.”

The ground trembled softly beneath them. The Rift was no longer testing them.

It was acknowledging them.

And the Core Region was about to reveal its final truth.

A pulse shook the air.

The Nexus—the crystalline heart at the center of the Core—flared with blinding radiance, veins of divine energy crackling outward like a beating star. The obsidian floor beneath Asher and Valeris began to rise in concentric layers, forming a floating arena above an abyss of stars and swirling realms. The Rift had changed form again, no longer trial or gate.

Now it was judgment.

The air warped. Space twisted. And from the heart of the Nexus, a being emerged.

Not a beast. Not a guardian.

A man.

Or at least, the shape of one.

Cloaked in cosmic light and crowned with a halo of fractured worlds, the Final Arbiter floated toward them. His voice echoed—not from his lips, but within their bones.

“You who reached the Core. You who defied fate and self…

Show me you are worthy to rewrite the truth of this realm.”

Asher’s blade sang from its sheath, soul force flaring.

Valeris’s aura bloomed like a thousand lotus petals, her fingers dancing with threads of starlight.

And then the world exploded into motion.

The Arbiter struck first—a hand gesture that bent gravity, crushing the space around Asher into a vortex of force. Asher blurred, Vanishing Reaper Art turning him into an afterimage. He reappeared behind the Arbiter, his blade flashing with the fury of Nine Shadows.

CLANG!

Their weapons met—no ordinary steel, but soul-forged constructs of belief and identity. Sparks danced like fireworks as Asher’s strikes pushed the Arbiter back, but not by much.

Valeris appeared above them, descending in a spiral of moonlight and song. Her twin fans unfurled, slicing through the air with echoes of harmony. She weaved emotion into form, every movement a mix of beauty and violence.

The Arbiter countered, splitting into two, then three—fragments of his will that danced around them like shadows.

“This is the shape of the world as it is—fragmented. Broken.”

Asher and Valeris moved as one, blades and spirit circling together. It was not perfect synchronization, but it was familiar. They had grown stronger apart—but unstoppable together.

They struck in tandem—one blade from the light, the other from the dark.

Two Arbiter clones shattered.

But the original had not moved.

The Arbiter’s eyes flared—twin novas of memory.

Suddenly, the battlefield shifted. Reality collapsed.

They were no longer in the Rift. They were in their pasts.

Valeris stood back in the cold corridors of the palace, surrounded by silent judges, faceless advisors, her voice once again silenced.

Asher stood alone in his old orphanage, the broken bed, the locked doors, the distant scream of a child not saved.

“You never escaped us,” the Arbiter’s voice whispered from everywhere. “You only buried it. But buried pain still festers.”

They were being broken down.

Cracked.

Tears slid from Valeris’s eyes—but her hands didn’t stop moving. She gathered the broken memories like threads, weaving them into a new melody. One of freedom.

“I am not your puppet,” she said. “And I never will be again!”

Her voice shattered the illusion.

Asher was kneeling, fists clenched, teeth bared.

Then he looked up.

And smiled.

Not in anger. Not in defiance.

In acceptance.

“I lived through you,” he said to the illusion. “But I don’t live for you.”

The past vanished in a wave of light.

And they stood once more on the floating battlefield, reborn.

The Arbiter hovered high above, now wielding a blade made of history itself—etched with runes of all who had failed before them.

“I am the legacy of this world,” he said. “Prove you are more than momentary stars.”

Asher’s aura surged to its peak—his soul blade now radiating not just power, but purpose. His steps carved constellations into the floor.

Valeris glowed like a living aurora. The child within her now danced beside her, hand in hand, her full self united.

Together, they ascended.

Their powers collided with the Arbiter’s—again and again, striking through space and time. The battlefield shattered. The stars cracked. Gravity wept.

The final blow came not from brute strength—but from resonance.

Their soul forces intertwined—a duet of defiance and love, of pain accepted, of strength reborn.

Their blades struck as one.

And the Arbiter’s chest burst open—not in blood, but in light.

The being staggered, then knelt.

“You… are not just worthy,” it whispered, a faint smile upon ancient lips. “You are needed.”

He dissolved into motes of cosmic dust.

And the Core opened fully, revealing a throne of light, a fountain of soul essence untapped for ages—waiting for new bearers.

Asher stepped forward, boots echoing softly on the radiant stone floor. The very air pulsed with ethereal energy—light like liquid starlight swirled in the massive chamber, coalescing into shimmering orbs.

“Hm… so these are the raw bundles of Soul Essence,” Asher murmured, eyes narrowing with interest.

Each orb hovered in place, humming with barely restrained power. They were like miniature suns—dense, bright, and alive. Threads of memory, emotion, and ancient will danced within their cores.

Valeris came to stand beside him, her eyes reflecting the glow. “They’re beautiful.”

Asher nodded, reaching his hand toward one. The Soul Essence responded instantly, pulsing in rhythm with his soul force. “They’re more than just power… Soul Essence is like a condensed truth of a person. Refined soul energy—almost like humanity’s lost potential crystallized.”

He turned to her, a thoughtful glint in his gaze.

“If used properly… Soul Essence can fuel Soul Arts, empower cultivation beyond known limits, or even strengthen the very foundation of a person’s soul,” Asher explained, his voice low and steady as the orbs hovered before them like celestial hearts. “It’s not just energy—it’s legacy.”

Valeris raised an eyebrow, curious. “Legacy?”

Asher’s eyes shimmered faintly as the glow of one Soul Essence orb pulsed in time with his soul. His Absolute Appraisal was active, feeding him detailed information in real time. He turned slightly toward her, expression thoughtful.

“Yes,” he said. “Each Soul Essence carries the condensed will, memories, emotions, and potential of a powerful being—usually someone who died within the Rift’s trial zones. If absorbed properly, it not only enhances one’s soul system and cultivation foundation… but there’s a fifty percent chance it will also grant a unique ability or technique once wielded by the original soul it belonged to.”

Valeris’s eyes widened. “So, a soul inheritance…”

Asher nodded. “Exactly. But there’s a catch. If you aren’t compatible, and the will within the essence resists your absorption… it could destabilize your soul. That’s why it’s limited. We can safely absorb only three Soul Essences per year. Any more than that, and our soul frameworks could fracture—or worse, collapse entirely. And that… would be fatal.”

A hush fell between them, broken only by the steady hum of energy surrounding them. The orbs hovered like promises and warnings, shining with lives long passed but not forgotten.

Valeris folded her arms, her voice quiet. “And if someone is compatible?”

“If you are one with the essence,” Asher said, his voice almost reverent, “the ability transference becomes absolute. A hundred percent success rate. You don’t just inherit their power… you understand it, wield it as if it were your own from birth.”