CLEAVER OF SIN Chapter 625: Tactical Retreat

Asher observed the guards hustling people away, directing them not toward their homes but into what looked like an underground shelter. Even residents who had barricaded themselves inside were ordered to emerge; those who resisted had their doors shattered by the guards, who dragged them to safety without a second's pause, as the pressing urgency consumed every instant.

Trembling residents pleading in terror, certain to perish if abandoned, received no attention amid the chaos. Regarding the wrecked doors and homes, everyone trusted the Duke would provide funds for full restoration; such was his profound nobility and generosity. Statues of him, raised by the populace across his domain, embodied not just deep respect but also the unwavering faith forged through years of benevolent governance.

‘This territory is outrageously immense in every way,’ Asher reflected inwardly. He'd wandered the Wargrave lands only once before; otherwise, he'd rarely crossed the gates, save for attending the Royal Twin Birthday celebration and his travel through Canestane Barony en route to Star Academy, never fully realizing the colossal scope ruled by the Wargrave lineage.

‘Father or the previous Primarchs were truly brilliant,’ Asher contemplated while eyeing the underground bunker, pondering whether other nobles would invest coin in such measures or hoard riches instead of safeguarding their subjects, the mute contrast speaking volumes without utterance.

Lost in musings on Crownstar Life Rankers and these bunkers, Asher found a figure suddenly at his side—Yveric again, materializing with his usual serene abruptness, as if he'd lingered unseen until deciding to reveal himself.

Gazing steadily at Asher, he said, “Tenth Sun, it’s truly dangerous to be out here,” his voice steady and poised even as he orchestrated war preparations. Yveric appeared unchanged; no fresh magical armor graced his form. He stood utterly composed, exuding the certainty that his lone strength could shield the Wargrave Estate, his motionless presence heavier than any declaration.

Confidence didn't color his speech; his very poise was confidence incarnate, an unshakeable assurance demanding no affirmation.

“Isn’t it nice weather?” Asher remarked, sipping his wine with a casual lilt that clashed oddly against the mounting tension. Yveric offered no response, merely standing mute, dismissing the comment as unworthy of note.

“Don’t you have better things to do other than stand around here, Commander Yveric?” Asher inquired.

“Unless we are attacked, I’ve given out all the orders to be given,” he answered flatly; control had shifted from his hands to the foes', his duties complete until enemy action unfolded.

“Don’t worry, with all these soldiers and barriers, surely nothing would happen to me, so you don’t need to worry. Besides, I know you’ve already assumed that no battle would happen within the Wargrave Estate, but you are just being cautious, just in case,” Asher responded, showing no intent to budge, his posture lax but purposeful.

“Besides, which Wargrave would run in the face of battle?” he added, smiling. “After all, even Wuthenya didn’t run when she was attacked by a Crownstar Life Rank enemy,” his voice steady as ever.

Yveric let out a sigh, sensing Asher's resolve to stay put, yet unable to compel a Sun against his will. Should necessity arise, he'd shield the Tenth Sun with his own life—a vow sealed well beforehand.

Yveric inclined his head, his gaze lifting to lock with the airborne Knights hovering by Asher. Wordless, his eyes conveyed the mandate plainly: guard the Tenth Sun at all costs, a silent command beyond question.

Asher intended to join the fray if battle erupted. Yet he wasn't foolish; boasts about Wuthenya standing firm against a Crownstar were mere bravado. He'd instantly warp to the Separate Dimension if the clash escalated beyond an 'overpowered ant' like himself, prioritizing survival over idiotic heroics.

Amused, he shook his head at his own inconsistencies. Enemies at Radiant Firmstar Life Rank or below? He'd clash with them. Stronger foes? Evasion it was, wisely separating valor from suicide.

Indeed, he'd bested Debro—a full Major Rank beyond Firmstar Life Rank—but he'd collapsed afterward. That duel was one-on-one; in this looming war, passing out spelled doom, fueling Asher's prudent wariness, etched firmly in his mind.

As Yveric turned to depart, Asher called out, “Also, I will be visiting you for a favour after all this is over, Commander Yveric,” tone even, as if the request carried no weight amid the crisis.

Yveric nodded simply, but halted before departing, head whipping sideways, vision piercing hundreds of kilometers, detecting something imperceptible to mere mortals.

Asher and his nearby Knights furrowed brows at this; Yveric's reaction signaled the enemies' arrival, the dreaded instant crashing down unannounced.

‘It’s truly happening?’ Asher wondered, tracing Yveric’s line of sight, yet Star Energy-boosted eyes failed to spot even the Wargrave territory's encircling wall; his weakness glaringly exposed the vast power chasm.

No commands issued from Yveric; his impassive face unchanged, he blinked out of sight in a burst, stirring not a whisper of air.

Asher's wine glass and bottle dissolved as he stood languidly. Roof-bound, he donned breastplate, vambrace, greaves, and black gloves. A red cape materialized, fastened to his shoulder, billowing in the breeze; three daggers emerged, secured at his waist—gearing up finished.

A broad grin split his face; fresh from the thrilling clash with Debro, he craved another skirmish before fleeing... er, strategically withdrawing to Star Academy.

Thereupon, he waited poised and serene, warlust surging around him as his Wargrave blood surged dominant, primed to confront the unknown—victory, endurance, or peril teetering on the edge.

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