Absolute Cheater

Valeris paused by a fountain in the center of the plaza. Water no longer flowed, but the carving along its edges was clear—a crowned figure with wings outstretched, holding a sword in one hand, and a quill in the other.

"Kingdom of Ink and Flame," Asher read aloud, running a hand along the inscription. "Their king was not only a warrior. He was their historian."

Valeris looked at him. "What kind of kingdom makes their king write history?"

"The kind that fears it being rewritten."

Suddenly, the bells tolled again—louder now, mournful and deep.

From the far end of the plaza, the memory shifted.

Something moved.

A ripple of light. A shimmering door of fire and script began forming in the air ahead.

A voice echoed around them, deep and ancient, like a narrator long-forgotten.

"Chapter One: The Betrayer's Oath."

Asher cracked his knuckles, the air around his fingers curling with soullight. "Looks like the story's starting."

Valeris drew her blade, letting its radiant edge sing in the gloom. "Then let's write our part in it."

Just as Valeris finished her sentence, the bell tolled again—but this time, it did not echo like sound.

It took hold.

The world trembled—not in fear, but in recollection, as if a dream had reached the part it could no longer suppress.

Reality shifted.

And Asher and Valeris were pulled into the memory.

—Not watching it.

Becoming it.

A silver flash devoured their vision, and when their senses returned, they were no longer themselves.

Asher blinked—and realized he was kneeling, clad in ceremonial silver armor, etched with runes of loyalty and law. A crimson banner hung from his shoulder. His body moved with practiced grace—but not his will. It moved because it was meant to.

He looked up.

She stood before him.

Valeris—though no longer Valeris—wore a flowing sapphire gown, embroidered with starlight thread. Her hair, once wild from battle, now cascaded down her back in a braid touched by frost. Her eyes, though still hers, shimmered with something ancient—regal and serene.

A queen.

She reached forward and placed a hand beneath his chin—lifting his head.

"Rise," she said softly.

He obeyed.

And as the world sharpened, they saw the crowd.

They stood within a vast coliseum carved from white stone and black crystal, filled with tens of thousands of figures. Nobles, warriors, priests, and scholars filled every seat. Above them, divine banners flapped in wind that didn't blow.

The center was not just a platform—it was a throne arena. A ceremonial battleground, sacred to the kingdom's rites.

A voice thundered across the skies, not from a speaker, but from the very air.

"Let all witness the choosing of the King's Blade and Queen's Light."

Memory began to unfold.

They weren't just characters in a story.

They were living through the past—as the First Knight and the Starborn Empress.

Valeris looked at Asher, her lips parting, confused but steady. Can you feel this too? she mouthed.

Asher nodded subtly. He wasn't controlling the body—but his soul was fully conscious.

Whatever trial this dungeon held, it wasn't brute force.

It was identity.

Understanding.

Story.

And then the story stopped moving on its own.

Finally, Asher and Valeris were able to feel their bodies again. They were no longer just unconscious passengers—they could now steer these new forms.

"It feels weird," Asher muttered, his voice carrying the weight of sudden control.

Just as he said that, someone called out to him from behind. It was a knight—someone familiar, with the kind of presence only a loyal subordinate carried.

Lucas.

From the memories Asher had inherited in this form, he understood—Lucas was his First Knight Commander. Loyal, steadfast… and, apparently, tangled in the middle of this bizarre storyline.

In this world, Asher was the kingdom's strongest knight—rumored to be having an affair with the Queen, while the King lay in a mysterious coma.

"What the fuck is this story?" Asher thought, glancing at Valeris, who looked dangerously calm.

She didn't need to speak. Her expression said it all.

Deadpan. Unimpressed.

It seemed this narrative had typecast her based on surface-level assumptions—Valeris liked strong men, so the Queen in this story naturally saw the King as weak and unworthy.

It was a perfect exhibit of nepotism and court drama at its worst.

Asher sighed internally.

"Of all things… a political mess and a soap opera?"

Right now, the Queen was returning to her family estate—and Asher, as her knight and commander, was accompanying her with his full Knight Battalion.

And With this memories thye have also given what actually transpired in the Kingdom thats led to its fall.

Apparently, the Queen wasn't happy. Her husband, the King, had fallen into a coma just a month after their wedding. Soon after she left the capital, the King remained in coma fro years not waking up. With the throne remaining empty, the Queen's younger brother—ambitious, cunning, and perfectly placed—stepped up as the new ruler.

He brought short-term glory to the kingdom, but it didn't last. Within a few years, he was dead too.

Why?

Because the first King—who had only been in a coma, not truly dead—suddenly awakened. And when he did, he was weak… but not powerless. Bitter and ruthless, he saw everyone close to his wife as traitors. He poisoned the second King, and from there, the kingdom began to fall into ruin, dragging with it the legacy of the throne, thus leading to fall of Kingdom , juts like Asher and Valeris

As for Asher and Valeris?

They weren't given any clear clues yet. In this story-driven dungeon, players only knew their roles and had to uncover the deeper objective by living through the narrative.

But Asher had already figured it out, thanks to his Absolute Appraisal.

He had to make Valeris, in her role as the Queen, truly take command of the kingdom.

Then—once she had stabilized it—Asher would ascend as King beside her… and Marry the real Queen (Valeris's current persona), And kill the First king along with the other manipulators and poisonous nobles in the shadows. All of them would have to die to prevent the future downfall and betrayal written into this world.

The Second King—the Queen's younger brother—wasn't just a random ruler either. He was powerful. Incredibly powerful.

He had been blessed with a rare royal bloodline ability passed down only once every few generations: Light Saint Words—a divine power where anything he declared could be turned into reality if spoken under the Light's sanction. It was one of the most broken, terrifying powers tied to the kingdom's lineage.

Asher, on the other hand, had been severely limited.

In this form, he only had access to Mythical Rank cultivation—while the Second King, when he rises, would already be a Saint King, the same rank Asher held in the real world.

Two major realms of difference.

And worse—he only had a few years in-story to rise in power, build political support, unravel the conspiracy, and defeat those who would bring ruin.

Asher, still kneeling, muttered to himself, "It's going to be a long journey."

Valeris, now fully embodying her role as the Queen, stood tall with grace and authority. "Let us depart," she declared, her voice calm but commanding.

She stepped into her royal carriage, its frame lined with silver and bearing the royal crest of the current kingdom. Asher rose, mounted his warhorse, and took his position at the head of the procession. Clad in polished armor with the insignia of the Knight Commander, he raised his hand, signaling the knights to move.

The battalion—dozens of elite knights loyal to the Queen—formed a protective formation around the carriage. Their armor glinted beneath the pale light, banners fluttering with every gust of wind as they began the march.

Their destination: Mimir Kingdom—the homeland of the Queen.

It was where Valeris's character had once been a noblewoman, before she was married off to the King. It was also where the tangled web of court politics, power-hungry nobles, and old grudges waited like wolves in fine robes.

"Mimir, huh," Asher muttered, gazing out across the winding road ahead. "I wonder if this kingdom has anything to do with those myths tied to the Moon's descent or its just an name..."

He was deep in thought when a soft voice pulled him back.

"What's bothering you?" Valeris asked from inside the carriage, parting the velvet curtains to meet his gaze. Her expression was curious, her tone softer now—more in character with her role as queen, yet undeniably her.

Asher turned slightly in his saddle, offering a half-smile. "Just thinking. This place is beautful, kind of."

Valeris smiled faintly and let the curtain fall closed again, retreating into the shadows of the carriage.

Asher chuckled to himself.

He was enjoying this far more than he expected.

The world was vivid, alive—even distant islands in the sky pulsed with ancient magic. The sense of immersion was deeper than any other dungeon he'd experienced. He led the vanguard without hesitation, eyes scanning the horizon, the rhythmic beat of hooves grounding him.

He looked toward the sky as a flock of starlight birds passed overhead—so realistic that for a moment, he forgot this was a dungeon.