Absolute Cheater - Chapter 546
Chapter 546: Lich Emperor II
The fog grew thicker as they moved forward.
The ground beneath Asher’s feet changed from solid stone to cracked earth mixed with old bone fragments. The air felt wrong here—not fully dead, not fully alive. His breathing felt heavier, like something was pressing against his soul rather than his body.
“This boundary is unstable,” Asher said.
The lich emperor nodded. “It should not exist in this state. I keep it balanced.”
Asher stopped near the edge of the crypt zone. Tall, broken stone markers stood half-buried in the ground. Some still carried faded soul inscriptions.
He closed his eyes and focused.
“Absolute Appraisal.”
The response came back slower this time.
Soul density: irregular.
Life signatures: weak but present.
Death authority: partially suppressed.
Asher opened his eyes.
“Someone is masking the transition,” he said. “They’re pulling souls without triggering death, then letting the body collapse later.”
The lich emperor’s voice hardened. “That confirms it.”
Asher walked toward one of the cracked markers and placed his hand against it. A faint ripple passed through the stone.
“This spot was used more than once,” Asher said. “Same method. Same timing.”
He stepped back and looked around.
“They’re not hunting randomly,” he continued. “They’re testing limits. Seeing how much they can take before you notice.”
The lich emperor said nothing, but the temperature dropped further.
Asher turned his head slightly. “You already know this isn’t a local undead.”
“No,” the lich emperor replied. “None of my citizens would dare.”
Asher nodded. “Then it’s either an outsider… or something that doesn’t fully exist in either state.”
He knelt and traced a faint mark on the ground with his finger.
“Soul-thread residue,” he said. “Thin. Artificial.”
He stood.
“This isn’t a lich,” Asher said. “And it’s not a necromancer.”
The lich emperor looked at him. “Then what is it?”
Asher answered calmly.
“Someone using soul tools. Or a constructed entity designed to harvest without killing.”
Silence followed.
Finally, the lich emperor spoke. “There is an abandoned vault nearby. Sealed centuries ago.”
Asher looked toward the fog. “That’s where they’ll return.”
The lich emperor stopped walking.
“I will not go further,” he said. “This boundary is yours to investigate.”
Asher nodded. “That’s fine.”
He stepped past the last visible marker and into the thin zone alone.
The moment he crossed, the pressure changed.
Life tugged at one side of him. Death pulled at the other.
Asher tightened his control and moved forward slowly.
“If they’re still active,” he said quietly, “they won’t be able to hide for long.”
He advanced toward the abandoned vault, fully alert—knowing that whatever waited there was confident enough to steal souls under a lich emperor’s rule.
Asher moved carefully through the fog.
The farther he went, the quieter everything became. Even the distant movement of undead faded. This area wasn’t under full control anymore.
He stopped in front of the vault.
It was built into a low hill of stone and bone, half-buried and sealed with old formation marks. Most of them were worn down, but a few were still active.
Asher examined them.
“Not death-based,” he said. “And not living formations either.”
He pressed his palm against the surface.
Soul feedback reacted immediately.
Something inside the vault shifted.
Asher stepped back and drew his sword, keeping his stance steady.
“Whoever you are,” he said, “you’re sloppy.”
The ground vibrated slightly.
A panel of stone slid open, just enough to reveal a dark interior.
A figure stood inside.
It looked human at first, wrapped in dull gray armor with thin glowing lines running through it. Its face was covered by a smooth mask with no features.
Asher felt it clearly.
No heartbeat.
No true soul presence.
But it was moving.
“A construct,” Asher said. “Soul-driven.”
The figure tilted its head.
“You are not part of the domain,” it said in a flat voice. “Interference detected.”
Asher tightened his grip on the sword. “You’re harvesting souls in this territory.”
“Correction,” the construct replied. “I am collecting fragments.”
Asher stepped forward. “For who?”
The construct paused. A delay.
“Authorization not found.”
That was enough.
Asher moved.
He closed the distance fast and struck at the arm. The blade cut through metal, but instead of blood, pale energy spilled out.
The construct reacted instantly, retreating and releasing a pulse of force that pushed Asher back.
He slid several meters but stayed on his feet.
“Defensive protocol engaged,” the construct said.
Asher smiled faintly. “Good. That makes this easier.”
He focused his senses again.
The construct wasn’t alive.
It wasn’t dead.
It was anchored somewhere else.
“You’re not the real threat,” Asher said. “You’re just a tool.”
The construct raised its hands, and thin lines of energy spread across the ground, forming a capture grid.
Asher didn’t rush.
“Let’s see,” he said calmly, “who’s pulling your strings.”
The grid activated.
Lines of pale light shot up from the ground, forming a cage around Asher. The energy wasn’t meant to kill. It pressed inward, trying to lock his soul in place.
Asher tested it once.
Pressure hit him from every side.
“Containment type,” he said. “Made to hold, not fight.”
He stepped forward anyway.
The grid tightened.
Asher adjusted his footing and pushed through the pressure, moving one step at a time. The ground cracked under his boots.
The construct reacted.
“Resistance detected. Escalating.”
The glowing lines on its armor brightened. Several thin blades of energy formed around its arms and fired toward Asher.
Asher deflected them with short, precise swings. Each hit sent a sharp vibration up his arm, but he stayed steady.
He closed the distance again.
The construct swung its arm. Asher ducked under it and slammed his shoulder into its chest, knocking it back into the vault wall.
Stone shattered.
Before it could recover, Asher drove his sword into the gap at its side and twisted.
The construct froze.
Energy surged wildly.
“Core instability,” it said. “Remote anchor exposed.”
Asher felt it.
A thin pull, stretching away from the construct, pointing far beyond the vault.
“There you are,” Asher said.
He placed his hand on the construct’s chest.
“Soul lock.”