The man in white had once been known as Leon Maxwell—the Ruler-Bond. His name was legend across countless galaxies. With his innate power, the Ruler’s Bond, Leon didn’t need armies, threats, or battles. Kingdoms, cities, and even stars submitted to him just by standing in his presence.
He had built an empire of ten solar realms—not through war, but through sheer will.
His soul core had advanced from Red to Orange, and finally to Blue—a Star Core born from dominance and unwavering discipline. Many believed him to be a god in the making.
But fate had chosen a different path.
This era didn’t belong to him.
It belonged to Asher—a man who hadn’t clawed his way up through countless struggles, yet still reached the same heights. His White Star Core wasn’t born from ruling, but forged through relentless defiance. A contradiction to all cosmic logic.
Leon had understood the truth from their very first clash—Asher didn’t obey the universe’s rules. He bent them to his will.
Their battle unfolded like a cosmic catastrophe.
Leon summoned Order’s Spire, his legendary astral lance. Behind him burned his white star, pouring out waves of crushing celestial pressure. His technique, Thronelight Requiem, called forth soul echoes of civilizations he once ruled—millions of spectral warriors charged beside him.
He unleashed Bloodlit Dominion.
His aura exploded outward—dense, violent, overwhelming—devouring the light that Leon radiated. Behind Asher pulsed a dark anti-star, swallowing every attack, illusion, and trace of Leon’s dominance. As Leon’s techniques crumbled, the battlefield dimmed.
His afterimages vanished.
His divine lance cracked.
And Asher moved—not by teleporting, but by commanding space itself.
His scythe sliced through Leon’s chest—not just cutting flesh, but unraveling the very laws Leon had mastered.
The Ruler-Star fell to one knee, coughing stardust-laced blood.
"...So this is the end I worked so hard to avoid."
Asher walked forward without a word.
Leon looked up at him, exhausted but clear-eyed. "You know... I never got your name. Mine’s Leon Maxwell."
Asher replied quietly, "Asher Magnus."
Leon let out a faint chuckle, the sound soft and accepting. "Then take it all. I’ve ruled stars. I’ve seen them born and die. I have nothing else to offer."
Asher raised his hand—and waved it gently.
From his back bloomed a forest of massive, blood-red thorns—each one glowing with living power, long enough to pierce entire mountains.
"Crimson Bloom: Sovereign Thorn."
The thorns surged forward, ripping through Leon’s fading energy field and anchoring the collapsing battlefield in place. Then they squeezed inward—compressing space, laws, and matter under raw force.
Leon could only blink in disbelief.
But by then, Asher was already in front of him.
He placed a single palm against Leon’s chest.
There was no explosion, no burst of light. Just a silent ripple that bypassed every defense and detonated from within Leon’s Star Core.
Leon trembled. Blood spilled from his mouth.
"...You really are something beyond comprehension..."
Then he lowered his head, defeated.
Asher remained still.
"I told you," he said calmly, "Try me."
The battlefield fell silent. Even the stars above seemed to pause.
Leon looked up one last time.
"At least I was defeated by someone with a Legendary White Star Core..." he whispered. "Thank you... for this final, glorious battle."
His eyes dimmed, and his body collapsed—alive, but utterly defeated.
One more fallen Forger.
Asher stepped forward, stopping before Leon’s slumped form. The once-mighty Ruler-Star now knelt, his presence fading. Without saying a word, Asher placed his hand on Leon’s head.
His Soul Reaper Monarch flared to life.
A scarlet light flowed from his palm into Leon’s fractured core. Memories, commands, soul contracts, ancient laws of rulership—all poured into Asher, drawn out like threads of starlight unraveling.
Leon trembled briefly... then fell still.
Asher absorbed the last of Leon’s essence. A flicker of new power passed through Asher’s eyes. Then, with a quiet breath, he released the body from existence.
Leon Maxwell turned to ash.
His legacy, consumed.
Asher raised his gaze to the enormous structure before him—the White Throne, the seat of authority over ten galaxies. He walked toward it with calm steps, as though the throne had been waiting just for him.
Each step echoed with growing power. The moment he sat upon it, a quake shook the void.
[ You have initiated the bond with the White Throne of Ten Stellar Galaxies... ]
[ You have defeated the last Ruler. You are now eligible to inherit it. ]
[ Connecting to Cosmic-Class Item: Throne of Ten Stellar Galaxies... ]
Galactic data flooded into Asher’s mind—maps, traditions, bloodline structures, soul-tech systems, forbidden arts hidden in black holes. All of Leon’s rule now poured into him, not out of fear, but as an instinctive submission.
[ Throne of Ten Stellar Galaxies: A cosmic Thorn that governs ten galaxies. Each galaxy has its own culture, soul path, bloodline laws, and planetary rulers. ]
[ All ten are now connected through a single Root—You. The new Ruler. Asher Magnus. ]
The throne shifted, white stone twisting as crimson veins spread across its surface. Behind Asher, ten massive thorns appeared, each as large as galaxies and pulsing with spiritual force.
The throne no longer radiated cold authority.
And at its heart sat a man no longer restrained by empire or destiny.
Asher leaned back in the seat, arms resting calmly on its sides. His voice was quiet.
"I guess this is mine now."
With that, he stored the throne into his soul, just like his scythe. Then, without a glance back, he walked away from the dungeon that had once belonged to Leon.
As he exited, the entire structure began to fracture and collapse—revealing its true nature. It hadn’t been a fortress, but a hidden gateway. Likely, Leon had planned to claim it as his eleventh galaxy.
But fate had changed.
He encountered Asher—and lost.
Now, even the ten galaxies Leon had ruled had fallen under Asher’s hand.
Flying through the glowing skies of the starfield, Asher finally checked the new innate ability he had gained. The plunder chance was abysmally low—most cultivators might kill millions and still not steal even one innate power.
Yet here, Asher had claimed one: Ruler Bond.
Hovering midair, with stars glittering around him, Asher used Absolute Appraisal to inspect it.
Lines of golden script bloomed in his mind.
The link to the origin of this information rests in Novel~Fire. (n)et
[ Innate Ability: Ruler Bond ]
A power once held by the Sovereign of Ten Stellar Galaxies. This bond links the ruler to all who serve him—offering unity, control, and growth through loyalty.
Combat Synergy: The more followers that submit to Asher’s bond, the stronger he becomes. Each subordinate adds to his physical, soul, and law attributes.
Ruler’s Knights: Asher can appoint up to seven elite knights. Each one may receive up to 20% of Asher’s strength during battle, allowing them to wield his power temporarily.
Bond Extension: Loyal followers may eventually awaken new talents or techniques they never would have gained on their own—granted through fragments of the ruler’s insight.
Asher’s eyes narrowed slightly. "So the more people that follow me, the stronger I get... and I can lend them my strength too?"
He gave a thoughtful hum. "I guess I’ll start with my girls... and Emily too."
With the ability stored away, he flew back toward the nearest city—where his companions were already gathered around a lavish dinner table.
"You’re back," they called out as he landed, a faint hum of energy still trailing from his boots.
"So? Was it him?" Catherine asked, leaning forward with a sly grin. "Did you find who killed your Reaper?"
"Hmm. Found him. Killed him too," Asher replied simply, stepping forward as the others shifted to give him space.
"Wait... something’s different," Veyra murmured, her senses immediately catching on. Asher’s presence felt deeper, stronger—his blood bond with her made it impossible not to notice. Catherine, who was now also connected to him, gave a slow nod as she too felt the change.
"You’re not at Peak World Rank anymore... are you?" Veyra asked softly.
Asher gave a quiet, confident smile. "Hmm. I advanced to the next realm. Had to—to defeat him," he added, referring to Leon. "It wasn’t a clean fight."
"By the way... where are Freya and Valeris?" he asked casually, glancing around.
"They’re still out," Catherine answered with a smirk, sipping from her crystal glass. "Said they wanted to go ’hunt’ something. I didn’t ask for details."
Veyra chuckled and leaned closer, resting her head gently on Asher’s shoulder. "Well, since they’re not here... doesn’t that mean you belong to us for now?"
Catherine blinked slowly, her smile growing. "Yes. He does." She slid closer as well, fingers brushing across the back of his hand before intertwining with his.
They could both feel it—something deeper than just power. It was in the way his blood called to theirs, in the subtle pull between their hearts and his. The bond was no longer one-sided. It resonated—thick, magnetic, undeniable.
"You feel it too, don’t you?" Veyra murmured, her eyes glowing faintly crimson, voice dipped in hunger. "The change in him. It’s not just cultivation—it’s evolution. His bloodline’s matured into something far older... purer... sovereign."
Catherine didn’t answer with words. She simply rose to her feet and reached for him with a predator’s grace, the shadows catching in her silken hair. Veyra followed, both of them now unfolding the full depth of their vampiric selves—not monstrous, but divine. Their elegance sharpened; eyes glowed with power, lips darkened like wine, fangs gleamed in the low light. Their aura was intoxicating.