Absolute Cheater - Chapter 78 - Return II

Asher got amazed as he looked at the details of the grand Coffin, “but how it ended up here?” he wondered as he continued to use his Absolute Appraisal.

[ The coffins were not relics to be stumbled upon by chance. They were dormant, waiting for those who could pass the trials they held. These trials tested strength, willpower, and the very essence of a soul, for the powers they contained were not meant for the weak or the unworthy.

Over Sextillion years, only one attribute—Predation—had been claimed. Its inheritor was not a grand warrior nor a wise sage, but a mere slime. Yet this simple creature, through sheer determination and the boundless potential granted by Predation, evolved into a World-Devouring Slime, feared across countless realms.

The remaining six coffins remained untouched, hidden within the folds of existence, awaiting those who could rise to their challenge. ]

“One is already claimed!!” Asher got astonished yet he sighed in relief “fortunately it’s only one, but it seemed to be one of the most powerful one” Asher thought as he continued to see the coffin history.

[ At the heart of this legacy lies the Coffin of the Progenitor, a central artifact binding the seven coffins together. It is more than a repository of power; it is a monument to his eternal struggle and a key to his ultimate goal.

When all seven attributes are claimed, the Coffin of the Progenitor will awaken, allowing his remaining essence to merge with his inheritors. This final act will sever his connection to the primordial forces that sustain him, granting him the release he has sought for eons. ]

[ To inherit one of the Progenitor’s attributes is to embrace a destiny fraught with peril. These powers are not mere gifts; they are responsibilities. Each attribute shapes its wielder, influencing their thoughts, desires, and even their very being.

Mastering these powers requires not only strength but also unparalleled wisdom. The price of failure is madness, corruption, or worse—a fate even the Progenitor could not foresee.

The story of the Progenitor is not one of glory, but of a being’s desperate pursuit of peace. For those who seek his legacy, the question is not whether they can claim it, but whether they can bear the burden of what it means to wield it. ]

[ When the last inheritor claims the final attribute, the Progenitor’s true death will come. But this event will not be quiet or unnoticed. The passing of such a being, and the act of transferring his essence, will shake the very foundations of reality.

The Progenitor’s fate is now tied to those who inherit his legacy. They are not just bearers of immense power; they are stewards of his final wish. Whether they bring about a new age of prosperity or plunge existence into chaos, their choices will shape the fate of all creation.

The Coffin of the Progenitor remains, waiting for its inheritors. The question is not when they will come, but whether they will be ready for the responsibility that awaits them. ]

Asher stopped as the next part is about the ability this Coffin holds “I hope it’s not Insight or blood one” he thought as he took a deep breath and then read the next part.

[ This Coffin holds the ability of Primordial Creation ]

“phew” Asher sighed in relief as eh also read the part how to obtain it and then he went near the Progenitor Coffin.

He cut his palm and the he placed it on the Coffin and then he closed his eyes as he guided his blood inside it, as he moved his blood and begin to write something all over the coffin with his blood.

“what is he doing?” Freya asked as Catherine frowned and wondered too.

“I don’t know that language, it was not in your memories” He said as Freya nodded “yeah, I don’t know it too” Find more chapters on My Virtual Library Empire

“But he seemed to know what he’s doing?” Freya said, as Catherine nodded. “Even I don’t know what he’s doing with the coffin.”

“Huh? You don’t know either?” Freya asked, surprised. She had assumed Catherine would know, but apparently, she didn’t.

“Then we can only wait,” Freya said, and Catherine nodded. “I just hope he doesn’t destroy it,” Catherine added.

“Relax,” Freya reassured her. “Asher isn’t that reckless. He’s probably trying to obtain the legacy of the progenitor.”

Catherine simply nodded and glanced toward Asher, who was deep in concentration.

On Asher’s side, he had reached the point where he had covered the entire coffin in the language of the Primordials. He didn’t understand the language himself but was merely copying and pasting what the Hall of Legacy had instructed him to.

Soon, the coffin was completely covered in intricate characters. As he drew the final stroke, Asher stepped back and let the magic do its work.

The symbols on the coffin began to light up one by one. Before long, the entire coffin was enveloped in glowing red runes resembling ancient words.

The runes continued to illuminate in sequence until the final one lit up. The whole coffin shone like a radiant beacon, its glow intensifying with every passing moment. Finally, a portal appeared in the midst of the light.

Asher nodded, satisfied with the result, and stepped forward into the portal. This portal led to the inheritance space—a realm where the coffin could only pass on its legacy if one possessed the token of the progenitor. However, the alternative method was to forcefully unlock it using the language of the Primordials.

Upon entering, he looked up to see a red sky and down to find a liquid-like ground. The surface resembled a vast mirror, reflecting the crimson sky below.

He nodded to himself, then cut his palm once again and began walking forward while chanting in a strange, ancient language. His voice resonated through the inheritance space, causing tremors to ripple across the mirrored ground as if an earthquake had been unleashed.

As he advanced, the quakes intensified until the liquid surface beneath his feet churned violently, like a tsunami forming beneath him. The waves surged upward and lashed back down, occasionally striking him. The acidic liquid burned his skin, but Asher gritted his teeth and pressed forward, unwavering in his determination.

The corrosive water had long since reduced his clothing to ashes, leaving him exposed and scarred, but he continued to move step by step until he reached the center of the space.

Standing there, he resumed his chanting. The echoing words stirred the world around him, causing the churning liquid to spiral like a colossal whirlpool. From beneath his feet, an altar began to rise, its form emerging slowly but steadily as it lifted him toward the sky.

Alternatively, the sky above cracked open, and from it, another altar emerged. Asher, now ascending into the sky, paused as the second altar descended to his position. The two altars released a dome of energy that enclosed him completely.

Still, Asher did not stop chanting. Standing at the crossroads of the dome’s energy, he continued to recite the ancient language. From above, a red, crimson liquid began to pour down, while from the altar beneath his feet, another stream of the same crimson liquid surged upward.

The space within the dome started to fill, and soon it was completely submerged in the glowing, crimson liquid.

Despite the suffocating liquid enveloping him, Asher persevered, chanting without faltering. The energy within the liquid began to drill into him, penetrating his very being. The immense energy surged into his soul, where his abilities were engraved.

Within his soul, the crimson liquid started to shape itself, forming a mysterious symbol of unknown origin. Asher recognized it immediately—it was the mark of the Primordial Creation Ability, etched into his soul with intricate detail.

This was the inheritance he had sought, and now, it was becoming a part of him.

Time passed, and a whole week went by before the symbol on Asher’s soul was fully formed and completely engraved. Only then did he fully integrate the ability.

Asher opened his eyes and finally ceased chanting. He took a deep breath, noticing that the altars were now cracked and seemed on the verge of collapse. The once-brilliant surroundings had grown dim, signaling the ritual’s end.

He jumped out from between the altars, drawing his sword as he did so. Channeling the newly gained ability into his blade, a cosmic energy enveloped it, glowing with a vibrant, otherworldly light.

With one swift strike, Asher unleashed a cosmic slash. The attack didn’t destroy the altars but merged with them, causing the structures to shudder. Moments later, both altars began to crumble like fragile chips, revealing two ancient-looking grimoires within.

“The Grimoire of Creation,” Asher muttered, picking up the first book. It detailed the full scope of his newly acquired ability, including spells designed to complement its powers.

The second book, however, was about the Language of the Primordials. Asher glanced at it briefly but dismissed it. He already possessed a means of learning the Primordial language, rendering the book less useful to him.

Satisfied with his gains, Asher stood amidst the ruins of the altars, his soul now carrying the mark of the Primordial Creation ability.