The Immortal Heir; The Absolute Cheat

Chapter 11

The cold wind howled through the shattered treeline, carrying with it the metallic scent of blood and ozone. Kai did not lower his steel saber. His vertical, icy-blue pupils remained locked onto High Priestess Ilya, his Draconic Sight frantically searching her form for any fluctuation, any weakness. But the elf monarch stood like an ancient mountain—silent, unyielding, and completely flawless.

"A glitch in the matrix?" Kai repeated, his voice deathly calm, masking the rapid calculation occurring behind his eyes. "You speak in riddles, elf. I don't have time for poetry. The Iron-Blood Sect's grand elders are ten minutes away, and my blade doesn't care about your ancient history."

Ilya chuckled, a soft, crystalline sound that seemed to vibrate the very ambient mana around them. "The Iron-Blood Sect? Those shortsighted insects who think a Tier 5 cultivation makes them gods? They are already dead, little dragon. They just haven't stopped walking yet."

She took a step forward. Instantly, Kai’s Sovereign Dragon Hide flared. Translucent golden scales rippled across his knuckles, and the air between them grew dangerously heavy.

"Do not mistake my curiosity for weakness, Kai," Ilya said, her starlight eyes narrowing slightly as she noticed the golden scales. "I did not cross the borders of the Elven Empire to fight you. I came to offer you a choice. You can run into the deep woods like a hunted dog, hoping your unique... cheating ability allows you to survive the sect’s grand array. Or, you can come with me to the Forbidden Valley of the Smiths."

[Ding! System Notice: High Priestess Ilya has offered a path alignment.]

[Target's intent analyzed: No immediate malice or hostility detected. 98% probability of strategic alignment.]

[Quest Update: 'The Path of the Sovereign' destination updated to: Forbidden Valley of the Smiths.]

Kai looked at the floating blue text, then back at Ilya. He knew the system's calculations were absolute. If it suggested alignment, fighting her here would be a pointless waste of his life. He slowly lowered the saber, though his muscles remained coiled like a spring.

"Why help us?" Kai asked, his voice dripping with suspicion. "An ancient entity like you doesn't act out of charity."

"Charity is a human concept," Ilya replied, turning her back to him as she looked toward the northern horizon, where the sky was rapidly staining a violent, angry crimson. "The lords of the Upper Realm—the ones your sect elders worship like benevolent creators—are parasites. They harvest the spiritual energy of this world, capping mortal potential so no one can ever challenge their throne. For ten thousand years, the Heavenly Dao has been a flawless cage. But tonight, your breakthrough caused a systemic error. You are a variable they did not calculate."

She turned her head slightly, her silver hair catching the moonlight. "I want to see you break their cage."

"Kai..." Meiling whispered from behind him, her fingers tightly gripping his torn sleeve. "The northern sky... they're getting closer. I can feel the High Elder’s fire mana from here."

"I know," Kai said. He looked down at his status panel one last time, checking his attributes. His Tier 5 Perfected Core was humming with immense power, but against a unified force of Grand Elders, he needed a battlefield that neutralized numbers.

"Lead the way," Kai told Ilya, his voice flat and businesslike. "But if this is a trap, I’ll ensure your silver hair is the first thing I dye red."

Ilya’s lips curved into a dangerous, amused smile. "Fair enough."

With a elegant wave of her hand, a massive shroud of emerald and silver light erupted from her palms, enveloping Kai and Meiling. In the next heartbeat, the space around them violently compressed.

Zip.

The three figures vanished from the clearing, leaving behind nothing but the slaughtered corpses of the pursuit force and the massive, hollowed-out shell of the Iron-Spined Behemoth.

Barely two minutes later, the sky above the clearing completely ruptured. Three elderly men clad in magnificent, blazing red robes descended from the clouds, their boots slamming into the dirt with enough force to create mini-craters. The lead old man—the Grand Elder of the Iron-Blood Sect—looked around at the carnage, his face twisting into an ugly mask of pure, unadulterated fury.

He walked over to the corpse of Deacon Fang, kneeling down to touch the cold, hollowed-out chest where the earth core used to be.

"His cultivation... his elemental roots... they’ve been completely erased," the Grand Elder hissed, his voice shaking the entire forest. "This isn't the work of a rogue disciple. This is demonic sorcery! He is stealing the sect's foundations!"

"Grand Elder!" another elder shouted, pointing toward the ground where Kai’s scorched footprints left a direct trail. "The energy signature indicates he fled toward the West, deep into the forbidden zones. And... there are traces of elven spatial magic here."

The Grand Elder stood up, his Tier 8 cultivation pressure exploding outward, instantly vaporizing the surrounding grass into ash. His eyes burned with a murderous, fiery light.

"I don't care if the Elven Queen herself is shielding him!" the Grand Elder roared, his voice echoing across the Whispering Wilds. "Activate the Sect’s Blood-Seeking Array! Mobilize every inner disciple and executioner! We march into the forbidden zone! That trash will not live to see the next moon!"