CLEAVER OF SIN Chapter 590: Arrogant

Asher felt as if he were on the verge of shrieking at this very second. Any capacity for pain he had cultivated until now proved entirely useless. It was only through sheer, iron-willed resolve that he maintained his silence, compelling his frame to tolerate the agony his mind could barely process.

Virelass let out a soft hum as she slid gracefully from her scabbard and hovered beside Asher. Her presence was tender yet heavy with sorrow, vibrating in harmony with his battered state. Without delay, she initiated the Crimson Pact, utilizing the blood she had harvested moments ago to begin mending his wounds.

His broken bones started to knit together, while his flesh closed rapidly. Though the lower quality of the blood caused his internal organs to regenerate at a sluggish pace, Virelass overcame this flaw by simply pumping more volume into his system, forcing recovery through sheer scale.

She watched Asher with profound pity. She was no stranger to his injuries, having witnessed the aftermath of his True Awakening where he was pulverized, or the toll of his battle with Blue. Yet, those wounds had always been the result of grueling, long-drawn-out exchanges of lethal techniques. This was something else entirely; he had been reduced to a helpless state by a single, casual strike.

Asher understood well that without the Crimson Pact, he would have been finished. One attack, and the confrontation would have reached its conclusion before it even truly commenced.

‘Thank you, Virelass,’ Asher conveyed through his thoughts as the crushing pain he endured began to recede, leaving only a dull, rhythmic ghost of the agony behind the moment she finished his restoration.

Asher offered no more words; he simply remained seated in the quiet while he engaged in introspection. He had become arrogant.

Indeed, his pride had grown, leading him into a state of recklessness.

He had stood before a peak Wavestar Life Ranker like a novice on a butcher’s block, failing to activate any of his essential abilities beyond Star Sense and Omni Perception. Asher had no need to deceive himself; his vanity had nearly cost him his life, and that realization cut far deeper than the physical trauma he had just suffered.

He had confronted Knight Hillary despite being outclassed in power and still emerged the victor. He had bested the assassin Blue despite similar disadvantages. Every one of his previous trials had been against adversaries who occupied a higher Life Rank than him, yet he had matched them in physical prowess, whether by avoiding Astra energy augmentation or relying on minimal enhancements.

Well, excepting the case of Dorris, where he had required the aid of Thalric—a necessity clearly dictated by the circumstances.

He had defeated a Grave Rank Monster, triumphed over a Rank 5 Emovira, and even bested Instructor Jane in a training bout.

Consistency had bred complacency, pushing him into such a fundamental rookie blunder. Preparing to face a Wavestar Life Ranker, he should have surged with Star Energy to empower his eyes for superior perception, overclocked his brain for rapid analysis and cognitive speed, tightened his nervous system for near-instant reflexes, and maximized his entire physical state—everything shy of triggering Star Form.

And yet, he had neglected it all. He had acted the fool.

A foolish, transmigrated idiot who only remained breathing because Debro had restrained himself, holding no intention of extinguishing his life with that one blow. After all, the man wished to capture him, not terminate him.

‘It seems I am in desperate need of some self-reflection once I return,’ Asher contemplated as he slowly hauled himself upright. Virelass retreated into her scabbard the instant she realized Asher was back on his feet, her restorative work done for the time being.

‘Over two kilometers with just a single kick, huh,’ he thought to himself, his mind calculating the implications, ‘those who transcend Rank 5 in any tier possess an entirely different class of power.’ He gave his head a slight shake, acknowledging the colossal chasm between them.

Just then, he picked up the sound of approaching footsteps from the side. He did not need to see to know it was Debro. The man appeared wearing a look that hinted at guilt as he scanned the surroundings, taking in the gouged ravines, the obliterated trees, and the blood that splattered the landscape. He exhibited no shock; the destruction had been expected, given that he had struck Asher with precision to incapacitate him while respecting the inherent durability of a Wargrave physique.

He displayed no surprise at Asher’s recovered state either. As a Wavestar Life Ranker, he could scrutinize the world two kilometers away with the clarity of a close encounter; nothing within that distance remained hidden from his senses.

“See what you’ve forced me to do, Ash?” Debro remarked, his gaze flicking briefly toward the distant ridge where Asher had been launched just moments prior, his tone a bizarre mixture of blame and distorted affection.

Asher longed to launch an immediate assault, but he found no openings. Despite the man’s claims of love, he left no vulnerability in his stance, his posture perfectly balanced for both offense and defense.

‘Would someone who truly claims to hold affection for another attack them with such violence?’ Asher found himself questioning inwardly.

Asher remained mute. He simply discarded his crushed chest piece, followed by the broken shards of his vambraces and greaves. Although the greaves remained largely intact, he recognized they would offer little utility for what was about to follow.

With that, Star Energy began to flow through Asher’s frame, humming with disciplined intensity. His perception widened as the world seemed to shift into slow motion; his cognitive speed surged, his reflexes sharpened, and his physical capabilities climbed to his ultimate limit underneath the shroud of Star Energy.

Asher did not dare to utilize Astra energy for this struggle. He would not repeat that lapse in judgment again, not after the lesson he had just learned.

With that resolve locked in, he unsheathed his rapier and adopted a combat stance, his muscles and sinews tightening like coiled springs as he braced to pounce like a predator closing in on its prey.

He was prepared.

Observing all of this, Debro kept silent for a moment before offering a light shake of his head. “Though I loathe to do this, Ash, if it is what is required to bring you home, then so be it. If you crave combat, then combat you shall have. I understand how you Wargraves function, after all,” he said, his voice calm yet unyielding.

The second he finished his sentence, his hand swiped toward the katana hanging at his left hip, drawing it in one fluid motion. His obsidian eyes met Asher’s violet gaze, the atmosphere between them thickening with every passing tick of time.

He did not call upon his Astra energy; for him, it was deemed unnecessary. Asher’s own augmentations would remain inadequate due to the insurmountable divide in their Major Life Ranks.

And thus, tension stretched between them, taut as a bowstring poised to snap. One fought to harvest the victim of his twisted obsession, while the other held his ground, resolved to finish this mission and strike down a deranged, deluded soul once and for all.

Then, without a hint of warning, the tension shattered. Both fighters vanished from their positions in blurs of absolute velocity, moving with such lethal speed that they seemed to erase themselves from the very space they had just occupied.