CLEAVER OF SIN Chapter 607: Vampiric Features

In the next instant, the door flew open, and a healer stepped inside. She belonged to the Wargrave healers, posted right at the Wargrave estate. She held the Crownstar Life Rank, just like Yveric, Azaron, and Malrik. With word spreading that a Sun lay unconscious, the Wargrave spared no effort in deploying their absolute elite.

Entering with an unchanging expression, Jennifer's red eyes briefly crossed Lyra's black ones, before she strode past without a word or glance, her attention locked completely on the unconscious Asher.

Jennifer possessed vampiric allure in her stunning beauty, with long silver hair cascading down her back, nearly brushing the floor. Crimson red colored both her eyes and lips, while her skin carried a subtle pallor that heightened her otherworldly, almost illusory charm.

Unlike most healers confined to either physical or mental restoration, Jennifer mastered both, even extending her talents to detect emotions—a mark of her extraordinary prowess.

Her hand gently pressed Asher's forehead, unleashing a golden glow that wrapped around his body and mind simultaneously as she evaluated his condition. Though Yveric claimed Asher was physically unharmed, he wasn't a true healer, so Jennifer relied solely on her own judgment.

Under normal circumstances, Jennifer's power, no matter how great, couldn't pierce Asher's mind thanks to the system's safeguards. Yet this time, the system wisely withdrew, granting her entry to his mental realm to avoid any suspicions over an incomplete check. Naturally, should the system detect anything amiss, it would block her instantly—Asher could always awaken and blame it on Virelass's powers, silencing all doubts.

Just two seconds later, her assessment complete with speed and accuracy, she faced Lyra. "He is fine, he is simply exhausted," she declared, then exited without another syllable, her duty fulfilled.

Now, only Lyra lingered in the chamber.

Two days slipped by swiftly, Asher still out cold with no hint of stirring, yet Lyra never budged from her spot. Virelass stayed outside Asher's soul too, hovering nearby in quiet watchfulness.

Suddenly, Asher's eyelids twitched open. The ornate ceiling overhead caught his eye first—he recalled that very same sight from his initial transmigration into this realm.

Asher's gaze turned toward Lyra standing nearby, her face mixing relief and concern. Before he could address her, a voice rang out from elsewhere in the room: "It seems the sleeping beauty is finally awake."

That familiar tone made Asher's head whip around. There on a couch sat Malrik, flashing his signature confident grin, sleek blue hair impeccably styled, blue eyes hinting at hidden depths of strength. At his side dangled his katana, Solaris.

"Big Brother," Asher exclaimed in astonishment. He had no recollection of teleporting to the Wargrave estate—or teleporting at all. Confident in his flawless memory, he knew Virelass must have handled it; she now hummed softly while floating at his side.

Asher propped himself up, but Malrik cut in before he could say more: "Leave us," he commanded flatly, eyeing Lyra.

Hearing Malrik, Lyra disregarded him and looked to Asher instead. She served only Asher as his personal maid, obeying no one else's orders—her loyalty was uncompromisable.

Catching Lyra's eyes, Asher gave a simple nod. She bowed promptly to both Asher and Malrik, then departed silently. Despite her two-day vigil by his bedside, Malrik had occupied that couch equally long, hurrying back upon Yveric's news and waiting quietly alongside her.

Malrik felt no irritation or surprise that Lyra sought Asher's approval first despite his order—why should he? Personal maids or butlers of any Wargrave answered solely to their master. Even the Duke's command over Malrik's butler could be overridden by Malrik himself.

"How are you feeling?" Malrik inquired right as Lyra exited, concern prompting the question despite the healer's clearance.

Asher swung his legs off the bed, Virelass settling into his grasp as his fingers caressed her silver blade. "I’m perfectly fine," he replied—and truly, no fatigue lingered; body and mind felt impeccably sharp. "How long was I unconscious?" he added, moving to the window where a cool breeze greeted him amid the vista outside.

"Two days," Malrik replied evenly.

’Two days, huh?’ Asher mused inwardly. ’That battle drained me mentally more than expected. Without Virelass, who knows what perils I'd have faced while out,’ he reflected with a shake of his head.

"It seems you have a lot on your mind," Malrik observed coolly.

Malrik's remark pulled Asher's thoughts to that ’sick bastard’ Debro, flooding him with crystal-clear battlefield memories. A grin spread across his face as he recalled his rapier technique—finally forged and unleashed in combat, every bit as exquisite and flawless as envisioned.

Debro might be a lunatic, but he'd served a purpose, granting Asher the grueling fight he'd craved, right to his limits.

Still, Asher grasped a harsh reality: the power gap between upper ranks yawned vast, beyond his prior estimates. He'd wounded Debro only once via a cunning surprise, and slain him the same way. Absent that tactic, victory might have eluded him entirely.

Defeating a Radiant Wavestar Life Ranker sparked no arrogance in Asher, only sharper caution. Debro's cunning had revealed the lethal savvy of such foes.

Asher pondered the 120 kilometers he and Debro had obliterated. That level of devastation stunned him—he hadn't grasped his own destructive might until then.

One nagging query persisted: if he wielded such might already, what terrors did Wuthenya or Yveric command? Or Malrik, or the Duke? Asher couldn't help envisioning the colossal power crammed into their mortal frames, utterly eclipsing his own.

’It seems there is still a long way to go,’ Asher sighed inwardly, eyes locked on the distant horizon as his ambitions smoldered steadily.