CLEAVER OF SIN Chapter 593: Unknown

Asher maintained a stony, blank expression as he moved. He displayed no flicker of emotion or hesitation, nor was there any visible strain; instead, a frigid concentration took hold that seemed almost supernatural. Unlike Debro, who indulged in trivial and distracting thoughts during the heat of combat, Asher could not permit himself such an extravagance.

A tiny lapse in focus, a slight rhythm disruption, or even a split-second delay in reacting would leave him bleeding. While he possessed the ability to heal, it was irrelevant. Who could truly gauge the depths of Debro’s supposed affection? The man might decide to end his life at any moment, masking the act within that same warped sentimentality he wore so casually.

Asher’s eyes darted with unnatural velocity, meticulously scanning every strike Debro initiated. With Star Energy bolstering his vision, cognitive function, nervous system, and physical fibers, his sensory awareness exceeded that of standard enhanced beings. Signals traveled faster, thoughts sharpened, and movements became precise. He pursued the man before him, reacting and struggling to remain in sync.

Yet deep down, Asher knew the reality: he was hanging on by a thread.

His instincts, honed through endless mortal struggles, shielded him more times than he could recall. They functioned beyond logic or conscious intent. Although Debro was clearly restraining his true power, Asher could sense the terrifying force residing in every impact that battered his body with bone-shaking intensity.

Each collision sent tremors through his limbs, vibrating into his shoulders and down his spine, threatening to tear his frame apart from within. Without Star Energy constantly fortifying his anatomy, he would have been maimed countless times or entirely obliterated by now.

Asher had no way of knowing into what depth of catastrophe this fight would descend if Debro chose to unleash his full might. The man had already erased ten kilometers of woodland with a mere flick of his wrist, a feat Asher could barely replicate even while channeling Star Energy.

He arrived at an agonizing, stark conclusion: even with Star Energy, he was incapable of bridging the gap between their Life Ranks.

Two Major Life Ranks.

This divide was too vast to be crossed by effort alone. It was a bottomless chasm that fundamentally separated them.

He longed to unlock his Star Form, a weapon among his greatest assets, but its usage was governed by a strict, unforgiving time limit. He couldn't risk activating it recklessly or squander its surprise factor unnecessarily. He required certainty—the assurance that its deployment would be decisive.

Furthermore, it remained unclear if even Star Form would suffice to handle Debro.

Asher could only be grateful he hadn't foolishly relied on Astra energy. Had he done so, he would have collapsed from the very first engagement, rendered unconscious by the weight of Debro’s initial slash.

Although the battle’s pacing denied Asher the luxury of conscious meditation, his subconscious operated frantically in the shadows. Something stirred within him. A perception. A necessity.

He had to discover a breakthrough; currently, he was fighting a losing war.

Despite possessing what felt like a limitless supply of Star Energy, his body remained tethered to physical constraints. His stamina had a finite reservoir. Though his endurance was vast, he approached its breaking point with every exchange.

He dissolved into a blur, dodging another of Debro’s strikes, while the displaced wind from the near-miss whipped across his face like a physical blow. Ignoring the pressure that threatened to distort his features, he retaliated immediately.

His rapier flashed downward with surgical grace, aiming for Debro’s kneecaps to restrict his mobility. Debro merely stepped backward twice—a movement so simple, efficient, and cruelly effective. There was no wasted motion, only perfection.

Asher pushed forward without pause, erasing the gap once more. He pressed the assault like an unyielding tempest, refusing to grant his opponent a moment of respite. At such proximity, his eyes flared, and he mimicked the sword technique Debro had used previously.

With a twitch of his wrist, five thousand blade-lights converged upon Debro, each precise and lethal.

Debro offered an amused smile. His expression held unmistakable satisfaction at seeing Asher emulate his own technique; to the man, this wasn't a danger, but mere amusement.

As the strikes arrived, Debro reacted, his own wrist flickering as he mirrored the skill. But while Asher had summoned five thousand strikes, Debro effortlessly unleashed seven thousand.

Five thousand shards erupted outward to neutralize Asher’s attack with perfect timing, while the remaining two thousand accelerated toward Asher with terrifying speed. Debro’s control was absolute, defying reason.

As the powers collided, the world ignited. A blinding cascade of silver explosions tore through reality, consuming the battlefield in ruin. Thirty kilometers of forest were vaporized instantly, the very earth fracturing under the immense pressure. Massive fissures carved into the ground, which buckled as if physical reality could no longer contain their power.

The cataclysm was titanic beyond measurement. Neither combatant heeded the swirling dust and smoke. At this level, sight was secondary, but as Debro launched his thousands of strikes, Asher had already moved. Before the incoming projectiles even struck his previous position, he was gone.

In the next heartbeat, his rapier darted toward Debro’s skull from behind, the angle perfect, the timing immaculate, the intent lethal.

Debro appeared unfazed, moving as if he had already witnessed the sequence of events. He sidestepped without turning. Asher’s blade sliced through thin air, causing the atmosphere to rupture like a bursting balloon.

Still lacking any need to look, Debro slashed backward. His strike was effortless, yet his blade met empty air, for Asher had already flickered back beside him. Their gazes locked for a fleeting second, and in that moment, Asher acted with ruthless intent; he flung a handful of sand into Debro’s face. It was a crude, desperate maneuver, yet necessary. Debro merely tilted his head, avoiding the debris with insulting grace, as if it were nothing more than a nuisance.

That micro-second was all Asher required. He drove his rapier forward with crushing power, intending to bisect Debro at the waist. His blade was inches from the target when a silver flash intervened. Debro’s katana blocked the strike with chilling ease, rendering Asher’s effort meaningless.

Then, with a gentle push, Debro ended the exchange.

Asher was launched backward like a discarded doll, his body thrown through the air by the sheer force of the impact. Yet, he recovered almost instantly. Upon hitting the shattered ground, his feet skidded across the terrain, carving deep grooves into the earth before he skidded to a stop.

He snapped his head toward Debro, but instead of the man, his vision was filled by the edge of a descending katana, aiming for his shoulder with lethal certainty.