CHAPTER 593: THE INHERITOR

A young man in his early twenties silently moved across a rocky path, his presence indistinguishable from the swirling darkness that flowed like a stream around him.

His face bore no blemish, each feature sharp and precise, as if chiseled from stone to embody a warrior’s ideal. His eyes, twin pools of darkness, remained calm and vigilant, betraying nothing of thought or intent.

He towered at nearly six and a half feet, his frame forged in discipline, muscle honed for function rather than display. Black armor embraced his form like a second skin, while a loose cloak whispered against him, lending an austere air.

It was Alex, currently climbing the Inhetor’s peak, the highest summit in the Ancestral Realm and the very heart of the Drakaryx clan.

At its crown stood the throne of their clan master, the one known as ’The Inheritor’. And right now, step by steady step, Alex was climbing toward it, climbing to meet the Hegemon himself.

A day had passed since the tragedy at Nocturna, where Vykan Zeld had fallen to Grand Arcanum Elara. Thanks to her, Alex had taken Sorrow, the blade he needed to fulfill the condition of his death duel with Zarach.

It was also there that Asher Winter, the first seat of the Drakaryx, offered Alex to get trained for his upcoming duel straight from ’The Inheritor’ himself.

Before Alex could question how he could offer something like that or why one of the hegemon would train him, Asher clarified that it was not a certainty but a possibility.

The reason it was a possibility was simple, and that’s because both Alex and The Inheritor shared the physique of the Dark Ancient.

The revelation struck Alex deeply. He knew numerous individuals could have the same physique, since it was a gift one acquired from one’s own genes.

But he never expected to have the same physique as a hegemon; yet his surprises didn’t end just there.

Asher explained to Alex that every physique, regardless of its type, was composed of eleven distinct genome structures, also called physique shards.

These structures were intricate blueprints layered within the body, each one containing hidden instructions passed down through countless generations, stemming from an individual who had achieved a higher order of existence.

The more complex and interwoven these genome structures were, the higher the grade of the physique.

However, complexity also meant difficulty, as each shard was a dormant sequence within the body, holding hidden potential. To awaken them required precise triggers to awaken, whether it was time, strength, mastery, or unique external catalysts.

For common physiques, these triggers were simple and natural, but for higher grades, the requirements became far stricter, demanding extraordinary opportunities and near-perfect conditions.

Furthermore, beyond the quality of a physique, its purity mattered the most. If the purity was poor, then even the same physique, when awakened in different individuals, could result in vastly different levels of growth.

The Dark Ancient Physique was classified as Ancient grade, and not merely on a world’s scale, but on a galactic one. According to Asher, it was the highest-grade physique known to them within the entire Ancestral Realm.

Asher also told Alex that he had four physique shards awakened, which confirmed that his physique had excellent purity, and as such, ’The Inheritor’ would truly wish to study it.

In exchange for his time, Asher believed that Alex could ask to be trained, and his master would agree to this exchange, making both of them benefit in their own ways.

Alex later confirmed this new knowledge from the Realm Ruler and found it to be true, so he agreed to Asher’s terms, since the opportunity was too great and the price was little.

And it was not as if he could refuse, since the interested party was a Hegemon, one of the strongest individuals in the realm.

’I wonder what skills he had acquired from his physique, and more than that, how much does he know about Dark?’ Alex wondered, eager to learn more about his physique.

He had been climbing for nearly fifteen hours, even though he had been dropped near the summit by Asher, and the reason why he had yet to reach the peak was because of the harsh conditions up here.

The Inheteros Peak was so tall that even the clouds failed to crown it, reaching only halfway before thinning out.

Near the summit, the mountain was instead drowned in a sea of dark miasma, thick and corrosive enough to poison even an Elemental Ruler to death.

Alex was surviving only because of a protective charm given to him by Asher, but since it required a great deal of mana, he had to be mindful of his speed or else he would be forced to rest every other hour, only prolonging his journey.

As for why Asher hadn’t simply dropped him at the summit, Alex could only guess. Most likely, this was some kind of test, a way to measure his will, endurance, or strength.

Though the ocean of darkness around him smothered his senses, Alex was certain he was close to the peak now. That knowledge left him both eager and tense, his heart thrumming with expectation.

After another half hour of walking along the plain path, the terrain finally shifted before him rose a staircase of black obsidian, with darkness spilling down its edges like waterfalls of shadow.

His gaze climbed higher and higher, only to find the ocean of darkness above thickening with every step toward the peak.

He suppressed the urge to smile and pushed forward, carefully keeping his mana in check. Step by step, he ascended the towering obsidian stairway, each rise carrying him deeper into the oppressive road toward the summit.

Barely ten minutes had passed when Alex suddenly lost sight of the path ahead. The few meters he could sense were swallowed, his perception collapsing as if the world itself had been snuffed out.

Before him stretched a darkness so absolute it felt impenetrable, like a void that refused to be touched by light or thought.

Alex stopped at the final step and reached out. His fingers brushed the wall of black, and as he pushed in, in that instant, he felt his arm vanish, as if erased from reality.

Panic surged, and he yanked it back, only to find it still intact.

Seeing nothing had happened and it was all just in his mind, he took a breath and stepped into the darkness, feeling his mind go blank, only for reality to come crashing back all at once.

Alex steadied his breathing as he took in the scene before him. After hours of trudging through suffocating darkness, there was finally light, though whether the pale, colorless glow could truly be called that was questionable.

The first thing to seize his attention was the colossal globe of obsidian floating in the distance. Darkness coiled across its surface like living smoke, drifting and reshaping endlessly.

At first glance, it looked like a strange celestial body, but the longer Alex stared, the more he noticed details. Some areas were solid land, while others rose like jagged mountains, and still others sank into nearly flat plains.

Vast regions pulsed with dense black haze, rippling like water stirred by an unseen wind.

Recognition struck him, and his eyes narrowed as he realized what he was seeing. ’A model of the Ancestral Realm?’ The shapes of the continents matched what he had seen on the ancient maps almost perfectly.

"A little hobby of mine," A deep, steady voice said, resonant as thunder yet calm, each word heavy with authority. "To keep watch over the major events unfolding in the realm."

Alex tensed, searching for the source. Beyond the colossal globe, resting upon a vast circular platform, stood a throne created from some dull, lusterless stone.

Upon it sat a man.

He towered well over two and a half meters, his presence commanding even in stillness. His features were sharp, sculpted, and cold, his skin the color of pale ash, flawless as polished marble.

Long strands of pitch-black hair flowed across his shoulders, cascading down his back like a river of night.

His robes were simple yet imposing, layered garments of deep black. The inner robe clung close, while the outer draped loosely across him. No gilded embroidery, no jeweled ornament, nothing to suggest vanity.

Authority radiated not from decoration, but from the man himself.

’Watch?’ Alex thought absently, his gaze flicking back to the globe. He imagined how he would keep tabs on world events by staying in one of the most isolated locations of the realm.

As though answering his unspoken question, the globe slowly turned, and from one of its continents, a column of darkness spilled downward, crashing to the ground like a pillar.

It spread outward in all directions before the darkness rose, growing as tall as a few inches above the floor.

Then it began to shift, as the shadows reshaped themselves into a sprawling landscape, mountains and valleys materializing with impossible precision.

Countless living figures stirred within the black terrain, forming a scene so vivid that Alex felt that he could almost hear their voices.

In mere moments, a scene came alive, one with which Alex was very familiar, two armies were clashing, one a tide of Skaven, savage and frenzied ratlings, and another organised yet equally deadly.

Even the skies above the shadow-formed land seethed with violence, as winged creatures from both sides tore at each other in a deadly frenzy, raining corpses down like burning hail and crashing into the armies below.

This was no illusion, no reconstruction of the past. Alex’s breath caught in his chest as he realised that what he was seeing was alive, unfolding, in real time.