CLEAVER OF SIN Chapter 586: Love

The Emovira halted its assault, remaining motionless. It stared at Debro, its eyes glassy and cold, face expressionless. Because the creature had stopped, Debro likewise stood still. He had never truly exerted himself; to his mind, this bout was trivial, a distraction to be discarded the instant Asher finished his own task.

One might wonder where Debro found such certainty in Asher’s victory, given their brief acquaintance.

Despite their limited time together, Debro felt a strange resonance with the boy. A youth capable of deceiving him with an undetected illusion—one who could infiltrate a heavily guarded base to liberate prisoners—could hardly be classified as weak.

‘Is this what they call love?’ Debro mused, his heartbeat quickening faintly at the mere thought of Asher.

Abruptly, the Emovira shifted. Instead of charging him, it bolted in a different direction, its frame turning into a fleeting blur as it covered ground with terrifying efficiency.

"Thinking of fleeing at last?" Debro remarked, remaining unbothered as he didn't even shift his footing. A second later, however, his expression tightened into a slight frown. Driven by a singular resolve, he vanished, moving with a velocity that dwarfed the creature's top speed. He manifested beside the Emovira instantly, his fist lashing out toward its temple.

The Emovira had foreseen the strike. With a sudden flick of its tail, it surged with impossible reflexes, side-stepping the blow. Debro’s knuckles met only air, and the Emovira materialized perched upon a nearby tree limb.

Debro remained unruffled. The speed he had utilized was nowhere near his limit.

A twisted, malevolent smirk curled the Emovira’s lips. "Gotcha," it rasped, its voice vibrating with an unsettling excitement, as though it had finally discovered a way to force Debro’s full attention.

Debro offered no response, his silence absolute, his focus drifting back toward Asher.

The creature’s strategy was rudimentary. It couldn't grasp why Debro remained so distracted, constantly glancing toward the distance. He didn't seem the type to care for comrades or others. Yet, something—or someone—constantly tugged at his awareness. Concluding that this target was precious to the human, the Emovira resolved to chase it down, intent on obliterating whatever Debro held dear.

Debro’s immediate, aggressive response to its movement confirmed the monster’s suspicions. For the first time in an age, a shard of dark satisfaction flickered through its rage.

Once more, the Emovira darted toward Asher’s location. Yet, every time it attempted to advance, Debro appeared in a flash, obstructing its path with a casual strike. While Debro considered these punches standard, they were devastating; a single clean hit would inflict grievous harm. Though a high-ranked specimen with incredible vitality, the creature knew it could not afford to sustain such punishment indefinitely.

It refused to perish before its adversary.

A faint smile touched Debro’s face. The Emovira scowled, unable to decipher why the human would smile at such a juncture.

"It appears you will receive your wish after all," Debro declared. He pulled his black eyes away from the horizon, fixing his entire presence upon the creature standing before him.

The Emovira’s gaze flickered to where Debro had been looking, noticing the combat there had ceased. It still didn't understand, but it no longer mattered. The human was finally focusing on it entirely.

"I intended to capture you if you chose not to flee," Debro stated calmly.

The Emovira chuckled, its tone dripping with mockery. "And what is different now, human?"

"Rather than containment, I will execute you for the crime of targeting my Ethan," Debro replied, his voice devoid of pretense. "I will make it painful—but swift. I have an urgent appointment with him, after all," he added coldly.

Had Asher witnessed this, he would have been utterly baffled by the sudden obsession and affection Debro displayed.

The Emovira was equally confused, though the name Ethan meant nothing to its monstrous mind. Before it could contemplate further, a cataclysmic force hammered its chest, as if a mountain had collided with it. Momentum threw it backward, its body buckling like parchment under extreme duress.

Before the creature could even strike the trees behind it, Debro was already there, outpacing the inertia itself. With a tranquil expression, he drove his palm into the monster's spine.

The force traveled through the creature's fibers like a punishing tide. With this new force clashing against the previous one, the momentum was completely nullified. Consequently, the Emovira was propelled forward once more, shattering the air with thunderous, concussive booms.

Debro’s form flickered again; he materialized above the hurtling creature. His timing was flawless. Bringing his heel down like a giant’s hammer, he crushed it into the chest of his opponent.

The impact was devastating, slamming the Emovira into the earth with enough force to open a massive sinkhole. The ground collapsed, swallowing the creature into the darkness of the subterranean deep.

Debro appeared beside it instantly as it settled. Enveloped by shadow, the Emovira lay broken and clinging to life, its body pulverized by only three strikes from the human it despised. Even in death’s doorway, its malice burned bright.

Without a word, Debro knelt. He reached out and drove his hand into the Emovira’s maw, tearing out its black tongue with sickening ease.

"You talk entirely too much," he muttered, discarding the severed limb.

The Emovira made no sound. It had endured far greater torment in the past. Unfazed, Debro continued his systematic dismantling: he scooped out its eyes, pulverized its teeth, and ripped away its ears. The violence in his movements was fluid, almost rhythmic.

Even sightless, the Emovira’s face radiated pure, unadulterated hatred.

Debro observed the dying thing with an indifferent gaze, raising his foot to hover over its shattered skull.

"In your next life, do not reach for what I love," he whispered. As he spoke, his leg descended.

Like a boulder crashing into an eggshell, the skull erupted. Fragments of bone, dark fluid, and pulped matter sprayed outward—a macabre painting, a masterpiece crafted from cold-blooded slaughter.