CHAPTER 183: CLASS 8; VOIDHEART CORE

CH183 Class 8; Voidheart Core

***

Boom!

Alex felt his leg tremble.

His mind shuddered for a moment at the mention—’Class 8’.

The Legendary rank was only Class 6... so Class 8 was a full two ranks above that... entire realms beyond.

This was the first time he’d ever come into contact with anything—any mention—of such a calibre.

The young mage couldn’t hide the shock that flooded his system. Not even if he tried. Zilbris caught it—the subtle shifts in his posture, the flicker of awe in his gaze.

The old Legendary dragon gave an amused, knowing smile.

"You’ve never heard of a Class 8 being before, have you?" Zilbris asked, voice calm yet booming with disdainful amusement. "Of course not. Not many Legends have."

He tilted his head slightly, the shadows under his silver-scaled jaw lifting. "Listen up, brat. Class 8 beings are in a class of their own. Their existence is woven into the fundamental laws of their world. They don’t just follow the rules—they are part of the rules."

His glowing eyes narrowed.

"In fact, their presence often surpasses the limits of their home worlds. They begin to understand and master the laws beyond the confines of a mere realm."

Zilbris’s tone deepened, rich with ancient weight.

"Even their progeny are altered—often dramatically. The closer the blood relation to a Class 8 being, the more potent the inheritance. That’s why the mightiest bloodlines... the ones that have shaped civilisations and destroyed nations... originate from these entities."

He paused, letting the words settle.

"This heart you see—" Zilbris gestured with a claw "—is called a Voidheart Core. It belonged to a special Class 8 being that lives within the Void. The heart allows it to survive there—by converting energy into spatial energy, and vice versa, as needed."

He gave a low, dispassionate chuckle.

"This one in particular... came from a stillborn infant. Likely cast away by its parent after its premature death. And unlike a mature Voidheart, this one can only convert other energies into spatial energy... and poorly at that."

Without ceremony, Zilbris tossed the heart toward Alex.

It spun midair, glinting faintly with an otherworldly violet sheen.

To an outsider, it might have looked like a king throwing scraps to a beggar.

And like a starved beggar, Alex caught it hungrily.

’Wasn’t this exactly what I needed for the Spatial formation project?’ he thought breathlessly. ’A reliable method to generate Spatial energy?’

It was as if a door cracked open in his mind.

Epiphany.

’Maybe Daddy Golden Energy didn’t lead me to the Drake’s den to take anything... but to trade for this!’

His eyes welled up, absurdly emotional.

’Daddy Golden Energy... I love you!’ he thought shamelessly.

’Now I can finally resume work on creating a proper interspatial storage artefact!’

Zilbris watched the human mage cradle the heart of the stillborn Class 8 infant like a sacred treasure, his giddy joy utterly unbecoming of the object’s tragic origin.

The dragon gave a silent huff.

He had grossly undersold the Voidheart’s inefficiency. Not merely inconvenient. It was almost laughably extreme.

Depending on the metaphysical grade of the energy fed into it, Alex might need to pour in thousands—tens of thousands— or even hundreds of thousands of units of said energy, just to squeeze out a single unit of usable Spatial energy.

And yet...

There was a reason Zilbris had once clung to it.

Back when he was still a mere Wind Amphiptere, he’d spent close to 90% of his lifespan travelling, raiding, and draining energy-rich sites just to generate and refine his body and mana heart with enough Spatial energy.

It had nearly killed him—but it had also birthed something new.

It was how he’d evolved.

Now reborn as a Silver Dragon, a being naturally attuned to Spatial energy itself, the Voidheart Core had outlived its purpose. Despite its rarity, it no longer held the same value.

And so, to the mortal mage, he gave it away like junk.

He was faintly interested in seeing just how the boy who carried the imprint of that Excellency would make use of it.

Zilbris ignored the humans entirely, reaching his claws toward the Earth Drake’s den. Without moving an inch from his position—still hovering leisurely above Alex and Jared—he calmly sliced out the space around the den itself and tucked it away into the void. Den and all. Including the all-important item.

Alex’s brow twitched at the display.

If the Silver Dragon was going this far, then the value of whatever he had taken was clear—it had to be something truly precious to the Dragon Race.

Still, Alex didn’t doubt that Zilbris had given him something of ’equal value’ in return. After all, the Silver Dragon had given his word.

All he did was twist Alex’s own words.

Zilbris had given to Alex something of value that equalled how the Dragon Race valued the item he had taken.

That value was entirely relative, or rather subjective.

The items themselves didn’t need to match in power or worth, because the parties involved weren’t equal in power or worth to begin with.

Zilbris, clearly satisfied to have retrieved the item, offered a rare moment of explanation.

"The reason we ignored the Wildkin’s presence," he said, "was because a human Legend came seeking permission. Only after the goblins began disrupting the forest’s ecosystem did the forest itself rouse the native beasts to intervene—without interfering ourselves."

Alex narrowed his eyes. "Why would you Law Guardians grant such permission, knowing full well the implications?"

"Because that human Legend was of your empire," Zilbris replied coolly. "And as we told him then, we have no interest in interceding in your human squabbles. If you lot wish to scheme and slaughter each other, so be it."

Alex scowled. "I can understand your neutrality in political matters. But these are goblins we’re talking about. They’re pests—like cancer. Leave them alone and they spread like wildfire."

Zilbris laughed, a deep, silvery sound. "Let them try."

He gazed beyond the treetops, as though staring into a future the goblins had yet to realise.

"Even if that little fairy tale empire they delude themselves with appears upon the Pangea Plane, the Dankrot Forest is no land they can tread freely."

His serpentine eyes narrowed, growing sharper—more draconic—as a chilling, primal menace gleamed within them.

"Anyone who extends their hand too far into the Dankrot Forest will watch it severed before their very eyes."

With those words, Zilbris—still in his diminutive Winged Serpent form—shifted and melted into the very fabric of space. His energy signature faded completely, as though he had been a dream all along.

Jared slowly let go of his [Knight Bastion] technique, and Alex was finally able to move from behind him.

Alex casually rolled the Voidheart Core in his hand, studying it for a moment before slipping it into the satchel at his waist.

Jared’s gaze didn’t leave him.

Alex raised an eyebrow. "What?"

The old knight stared harder. "I know your Furor Bloodline leans toward madness... but I expected better from you, Young Lord."

Alex blinked.

"To think," Jared continued, voice tight with disappointment, "since you are so suicidal, that you’d rather provoke a Legendary Dragon than to simply find a cliff and jump off it properly. That’s a mad way to commit suicide, even for you."

Alex was momentarily speechless.

Not just because of the words—but because Jared had just spoken more in a single breath than he had probably uttered since they met.

Alex’s lips twitched.

In the end, all he could do was sigh.

No point arguing with a man who made disrespect look like a virtue.

**