Absolute Cheater

Veyra's lips trembled, but she bowed her head with grace. "Then I'll stay by your side—both of you—for as long as I live."

Hearing her words, Asher gently waved his hand, offering a small smile. "It's okay. You don't have to force yourself. Just take things at your own pace."

Veyra nodded, comforted by his understanding.

"Now then," Valeris spoke, glancing between them, "where should we go next?"

Asher crossed his arms, thoughtful. "Hm… something unknown. Somewhere that leads us further."

He turned to Veyra. "Do you know of any place in this world—a dungeon, a city, a gate—that might be worth our time?"

Veyra paused, thinking carefully before responding. "There is… a city called Evolver's Paradise. It's hidden high in the Riftlands, built around more than a hundred dungeon gates. Most of them range from Intermediate to Void Rank. It's not well-known to nobles, but it's become a hub for rogue cultivators and powerful wanderers."

"A city filled with high-level dungeons and a murky, chaotic hub…" Valeris mused, her eyes gleaming with interest. "Sounds like our kind of place."

"It's also famous for its auction house," Veyra added. "Many exotic and unknown relics end up there—items lost to time, creatures for contracts, even fragments of ancient bloodlines."

Asher nodded. "Alright then. We'll head there."

He turned to Veyra. "Just point me in the right direction."

Veyra lifted her hand and gestured northeast. "That way. Across the Spinewood Hills, past the Ember Veins. It's hidden behind a fog-shrouded canyon known as the Riftfall Divide."

Asher's eyes glowed faintly as he summoned his edgewalker sigil, and in a single flicker of light, the group vanished—slipping through the layers of distance in a single breath.

They reappeared at the edge of a vast, sunless basin. Before them stood a massive, moss-covered monolith that loomed like the ribcage of some ancient god. Carved into the stone were hundreds of archways, each sealed by shimmering veils of elemental energy.

"These…" Asher murmured, stepping forward.

"These are called the Hundred Gates," Veyra explained. "Each one connects to a dungeon realm. Some are natural. Others… were made by ancient Evolvers. No one knows how deep they go. Most major factions have claimed at least one gate. Evolver's Paradise formed around them like a hive."

Valeris narrowed her eyes, scanning the architecture. "And somewhere beyond this is the city?"

Veyra nodded. "Yes. Through the outer circle. It's guarded by shifting trials, but I know the way."

Asher smiled. "Then let's not waste time. Lead on."

They stepped forward together, the air thick with power and promise. Ahead of them lay a city built on danger, treasure, and endless evolution.

Evolver's Paradise awaited.

The gates shimmered like molten crystal as the trio passed through. A strange pressure settled over them—half spiritual, half spatial. It was as if the world bent ever so slightly in reverence to the power woven into this place.

And then they emerged.

Before them sprawled the infamous city of Evolver's Paradise—a dazzling chaos of ambition and madness fused into marble, smoke, and steel. Towering spires clawed toward the crimson sky, stitched together with floating platforms, glowing ley lines, and cascading waterfalls of liquid mana. The scent of rare spices, blood, ink, and a thousand unknown alchemical reagents filled the air.

The streets buzzed with life. Beastfolk merchants shouted from beneath iron canopies. Dwarves argued over mana crystal purity. Veiled elves peddled contract-bound spirits in cages carved from dragon bone. Even demons and rogue cultivators walked openly, cloaked in glamours or challenge seals. Evolver's Paradise had no law—only strength.

Valeris's eyes flicked across the skyline. "No single authority here. Just power. This city thrives on deals and dominance."

Veyra pointed ahead. "That's the Grand Auction Spire—one of several, actually. There's no central auction here. Instead, five major auction towers compete, each backed by different clans, crime rings, or even Void Lords."

Asher followed her gaze. The nearest tower shimmered like onyx glass, its base guarded by enormous golems forged from fallen warships. From its balconies, strange artifacts levitated and rotated—sealed under golden scripture and time-lock arrays.

"Remind me to check that out later," Asher said. "There might be something... unusual."

They kept walking.

To their left, rows of high-end alchemy shops stretched along an emerald cobbled street. Cauldrons bubbled behind reinforced barriers, while scent-locked potions shimmered in floating racks. Further down, a burly orc shouted from his stall, offering soul-forged weapons said to have drunk the memories of a hundred warriors.

To the right, a slaver district loomed—darker, quieter, and more brutal. Collars glowing with runes. Some slaves wore expressions of despair; others smirked, clearly biding their time for a new master to challenge. One shop even boasted "Cursed Bloodlines: Buy, Bind, Break."

Valeris frowned. "I don't like this place… but I understand it. It's raw. Merciless. Real."

Veyra nodded. "This is where forgotten talents are sold, dangerous items slip through cracks, and gods fall into debt."

They passed through the Forge Quarter, where blacksmiths hammered out gear from exotic metals. Flamewrought alloys, Voidsteel, Wyrmbone composite—Asher could feel the sheer power pulsing from every forge. One smith was even melting down a corrupted World Core, drawing curious and fearful crowds.

And beyond that, more—

Illusion artists selling memories as lucid dreams.

Contract Halls for temporary team-ups to conquer dungeon realms.

Brothels of every kind—blood courtesans, beast-tamers, even ethereal beings that fed off sensation itself.

Training halls where Void-tier techniques were auctioned for absurd prices.

Beast markets where everything from drakes to soul-linked phoenix kits howled in cages.

Every corner was a gamble. Every street pulsed with temptation. Evolver's Paradise didn't just offer riches—it whispered to your deepest hunger.

Asher exhaled. "We'll need a place to stay first. Then we can decide what to explore."

"I have an idea," Veyra said. "The Crimson Chain Inn—it's neutral ground, protected by an ancient oath. No bloodshed allowed inside. Many powerful individuals stay there."

Valeris smirked. "A nest of sleeping dragons. Sounds cozy."

Asher chuckled. "Then let's go disturb the nest."

The sun dipped lower behind the jagged skyline of Evolver's Paradise, bathing the sprawl in a copper-rose glow. Shadows stretched long over the cobbled roads, but the city didn't sleep—if anything, it grew louder. The deeper they ventured, the stranger the architecture became. Buildings twisted at impossible angles, some shaped like spiraling trees of crystal, others more like breathing fortresses made of flesh-bound stone.

And then they found it.

The Crimson Chain Inn.

It stood alone at the edge of a quiet plaza, surrounded by flickering wards and hanging lanterns that bled red light onto the marble steps. The building was massive—five stories tall, but extending far deeper underground if the mana pressure was any indication. Its blackwood frame was carved with ancient sigils of sanctuary and neutrality. Hanging from the second-floor balcony was a banner made of chain-links dipped in crimson lacquer.

The inn radiated ancient strength—subtle but absolute. It wasn't a place. It was a declaration.

"Here, bloodshed dies at the door."

Asher placed a hand on the oaken door. It shimmered once, inspecting him—then swung open with a low hum.

They stepped inside.

Warmth and scent hit them instantly: roasted meat, aged spiritwine, incense of calming roots. The interior was luxurious yet brutalist—dark woods, obsidian pillars, and velvet curtains hiding private booths and sealed meeting rooms. The main floor buzzed with tension. Dozens of powerful figures lounged at rune-etched tables.

A man with obsidian horns sipped tea beside a war-priest covered in molten armor. A woman with silver-threaded wings quietly counted soul coins while a shade-servant hovered near. Another figure—half mist, half man—was engaged in what seemed like psychic chess with a pale child who radiated golden aura.

All of them looked up as Asher, Valeris, and Veyra entered.

And then, they returned to their business. None of them wanted trouble—not here.

"Welcome to the Crimson Chain," came a melodic voice.

Behind the obsidian counter stood a tall woman, draped in robes of black fire and violet thread. Her eyes glowed faintly red, and her voice echoed ever so slightly—like two people speaking in harmony.

"I am Mistress Saelyra, bound keeper of this inn. Rooms are paid not in coin, but value , treasures."

Asher approached with calm steps. "We seek a week's stay. And we do have a treasure to offer."

Saelyra smiled. "Then offer it."

Asher leaned forward. "Its this Soul essence core."

The room went still. As many tunred to look at core greedily but none dared to move.

Saelyra's smile widened. "A rare treasure, and a useful one. Accepted. You may have your rooms."

She handed them three keys—each forged from black jade and bound with a sliver of their aura. "Don't lose them. The rooms will have your presence."

They climbed the spiral stairs and entered their chambers—private, warded, and luxuriously appointed.

That night, they didn't rest immediately.

From the balcony, Asher gazed at the glowing heart of Evolver's Paradise. Dungeon gates shimmered in the distance, forming a jagged line that separated the slums from the elite sectors. Floating auction spires loomed behind them.