Absolute Cheater - Chapter 474
Chapter 474: Touring VIII
Asher nodded slightly, his gaze steady on his grandfather. “You’re seeing just a glimpse,” he said quietly. “He’s holding back.”
Freya glanced at him, surprised. “That wasn’t his full aura?”
“Not even close.” Asher’s voice held a trace of pride. “Back in Volaris, they called him the Beast Sovereign. Every creature within a hundred leagues used to bow their heads when he passed. I grew up hearing stories, but seeing it again…” He let the thought trail off as the shopkeeper carefully sealed the Nightrazor’s cage in a layered soul-lock crystal.
The faint hum of power in the air returned as the other beasts slowly resumed their movements, though even they seemed quieter than before—more subdued, cautious.
The shopkeeper bowed deeply, holding the cage out with both hands. “An honor to have a true sovereign of resonance here. I’ll make sure it’s properly bound to your aura pattern, sir.”
Asher’s grandfather took the cage gently, his expression softening for the first time since entering. “Beautiful creature,” he said under his breath. “It will take time, but it’ll learn.”
Freya smiled. “You really can’t resist, can you?”
He chuckled. “What’s the point of old age if you stop doing what you love?” He looked at her then, eyes bright and kind. “And don’t mistake this for indulgence, young one. Raising beasts teaches patience, discipline, and respect. A bond between lifeforms is a cultivation in itself.”
Freya nodded respectfully. “I believe that.”
Asher folded his arms, amused. “You’re going to end up with another collection by the time we leave this city, aren’t you?”
“Probably,” his grandfather said without shame. “Though Velstrand’s laws might limit me to five.”
Asher raised a brow. “Five? You’ve already got three spirit beasts back at the manor.”
The old man waved him off. “Those are companions, not property. I could use one or two more for research.”
Freya laughed softly. “Research. Sure.”
The old man grinned, completely unbothered. “Call it what you want, girl. When you’re my age, you’ll understand.”
The shopkeeper, still lingering nearby, cleared his throat politely. “If you’d like, I can have the Nightrazor delivered to your residence by morning, once the seal attunes to your core.”
“That would be appreciated,” the old man replied. “Mark it under the name Arnold Magnus.”
The shopkeeper’s eyes widened slightly. “Arnold Magnus… from the Magnus household in Averin?”
The old man’s smile turned modest. “The same—though why do you look so surprised?”
At once, the shopkeeper straightened, bowing even lower. “It’s an honor, Sovereign Magnus. Your reputation reached Velstrand long ago—how you destroyed an entire base of those hateful invader worshippers.”
Arnold burst out laughing, a deep, hearty sound that startled the shopkeeper. For a moment, the man simply blinked, uncertain what was so amusing.
“It wasn’t me!” Arnold said between laughs, waving a hand dismissively. “That was my grandson, Asher.”
He pointed toward Asher, who stood a few steps away, quiet but smiling faintly. The shopkeeper’s eyes widened again, flicking between them with sudden awe.
“I—I beg your pardon,” he stammered, bowing to Asher now. “To think the hero himself would walk into my humble shop… It’s an honor, young Sovereign.”
Asher gave a small nod. “There’s no need for that. We’re just passing through.”
Arnold chuckled again, resting a hand on his grandson’s shoulder. “See? Even when he’s being praised, he stays modest. That’s what I like about him.”
The shopkeeper smiled nervously, still looking between them as he finished wrapping their purchase. “Of course, of course. Velstrand is blessed to have guests like you. Please, accept this charm as a token of respect.”
He handed over a small talisman carved from pale stone, its surface etched with faint runes that shimmered with soft blue light.
Arnold accepted it with a polite nod. “Thank you. May your business thrive.”
Once they stepped outside, the night air greeted them again—cool and alive with the hum of the market. Lanterns swayed gently above the streets, their light dancing across the polished stone.
Asher slipped the talisman into his pocket, glancing at his grandfather. “You didn’t have to laugh that hard.”
Arnold grinned. “I couldn’t help it. It’s nice to know the younger generation’s making a name for themselves. Back in my day, it took years before anyone even remembered a name, let alone a deed.”
Freya, who had been quietly observing, smiled faintly. “It’s still strange hearing people talk about you both like legends.”
“That’s because legends are just stories that haven’t ended yet,” Arnold said lightly, his tone soft but full of meaning. “And ours still has a long way to go.”
They walked on, the sound of music and laughter fading behind them as the streets opened toward the distant glow of the Grand Pavilion. Above them, the night sky shimmered faintly, soul-lanterns drifting higher—each one carrying a whisper of light into the endless dark.
As they made their way back toward the main street, the familiar sound of chatter and laughter returned. The flow of the market carried a comforting rhythm—vendors calling out new offers, strings of chimes swaying above the stalls, and the soft hum of music drifting from a nearby courtyard.
Ahead, Asher spotted the rest of the group gathered near a row of clothing stalls. Marina had somehow managed to bury herself halfway into a rack of shimmering robes, holding up two nearly identical ones with an expression of grave concentration.
“This one brings out my aura better,” she said, holding up a dark silver robe embroidered with faint runes.
Arnold chuckled under his breath. “She reminds me of your grandmother when she used to raid the market stalls in Volarisa.”
Asher smiled faintly. “Yeah. Except Mom didn’t try to buy half the city.”
Freya smirked. “Give her time.”
They approached as Marina turned toward Arnold with a bright grin. “Grandfather Magnus! Look at this—it adjusts its color based on soul energy flow. Isn’t that amazing?”
Arnold leaned closer, his eyes twinkling with genuine curiosity. “Ah, adaptive resonance silk. Rare weave, excellent craftsmanship. You have a good eye, girl.”
Marina beamed at the praise. “See? I told you it’s worth it!”