CLEAVER OF SIN Chapter 627: Millions

Hundreds of kilometers distant from the Wargrave Ducal lands, a figure materialized in mid-air. White hair and a matching beard framed his imposing seven-foot frame, a long lance slung across his back while he levitated, clad in armor that gleamed softly under the surrounding glow—it was Knight Commander Yveric.

Right then, he hovered over the horde of monsters and beasts ready to storm the Wargrave, the expansive terrain below swarming with turbulent lifeforms radiating a foreboding aura. A grin crept onto his lips unbidden, "it has been a while since I had some action," he muttered softly, anticipation coloring his words, and truly, it had been ages.

Guarding the Wargrave Ducal territory had kept him rooted there for so long, denying him battles or true tests of his might. His most recent brush with combat was during Asher’s trip to the Canestane Barony, when bandits ambushed the three Suns—an event so trivial it lingered only as a vague recollection.

His dark eyes scanned the ground below, revealing not just a nest but something far grander and more terrifying than any mere lair.

Here gathered more than a million monsters and beasts... yes, over a million, a staggering assembly of chaotic forces crammed into one vast area.

They spanned from the lowliest Fang class up to the mightiest Void class, forming a power structure that could normally devastate whole territories.

This insane quantity dwarfed the invasion on Rivelle Barony, drawn inevitably by the Wargrave—no, by a Ducal family’s very essence, like a cosmic decree summoning disaster.

'Five Void class, hundreds of Myth class, thousands of Crown class tapering down to Fang,' Yveric evaluated coolly, his thoughts racing through the details with uncanny speed. The foes remained oblivious to him, perched thousands of meters high on a cloud like a regal seat, watching with cool detachment and poise.

'Shall we get started?' he whispered, a spark of thrill in his tone, before plummeting from the heavens as he permitted gravity’s pull, his fall precise yet brimming with ominous power.

In mere seconds, he crashed into the monster domain, unleashing a colossal shock upon landing. Yveric’s form hammered the soil, sending shockwaves, sonic blasts, flying rocks, and terrain fractures ripping across dozens of kilometers, as if heavenly wrath had descended. The force pulverized thousands of monsters instantly, obliterating them before comprehension dawned.

Blood in myriad hues sprayed skyward, flesh ripped apart effortlessly, massive thumps resounding as innumberable bodies hit the dirt, a choking blood reek assaulting senses like a brutal surge, the air thick with metallic tang; even the heavens tinted red, violet, and azure amid the rising blood fog, draping a macabre shroud.

A towering mushroom cloud of smoke billowed upward, enveloping the leveled forest now a wasteland of ruin, swirling with grit and wreckage. Emerging from the haze unscathed and immaculate, Yveric strode forth calmly, the surrounding gore and grime repelled from his form as if by design.

Spotting their target at last, massive flares of Astra energy lit the sky as monsters shrieked, some bellowed furiously, while smarter ones from Grave Rank and above stayed silent, priming for deliberate strikes. The thunderous chorus of thousands of roars and cries could shatter eardrums and unleash sonic tempests, but it proved futile against the figure before them.

Silent and fearless, Yveric regarded them steadily before declaring, "you know, I haven’t had any fun in a long while, so I will be enjoying this for a few minutes, five minutes max," as he resumed his advance.

Yveric couldn’t stray too long, hence his self-imposed five-minute deadline to eradicate every creature here. Like Azaron, he could’ve one-shotted these foes, but Azaron thrived in endless fights whereas Yveric had starved for action; this was his chance to loosen up, if only briefly.

Moreover, he still felt the Wargrave domain from afar; any trouble there in those five minutes, and he’d teleport back seamlessly, duties intact.

Before the beasts could respond, he surged ahead at unimaginable velocity, beyond all perception, and one punch crumpled the entire vista in a cataclysmic roar; earth buckled, space quaked, vaporizing thousands in a flash.

Ignoring the fallen, he flickered elsewhere, unleashing a leg sweep that rent space asunder viciously, annihilating every monster in that zone to oblivion—another thousand gone as if never there.

Two strikes—a punch and a kick—laid waste to hundreds of kilometers. He rematerialized aloft, then flicked his hand; the air compacted ferociously, pressure surging to inconceivable heights before detonating in total devastation, engulfing all monsters across ninety kilometers in utter ruin.

Trees vaporized, mountaintops crumbled, landscapes mangled beyond recognition. Explosive quakes and tremors surged outward, thunderous booms rolling like unending peals over the ravaged earth, each pulse laden with total annihilation.

The monsters stood helpless; class meant nothing—Fang? Myth? Grave? Irrelevant. Yveric’s fly comparison rang utterly true, no hyperbole.

Such was a Crownstar Life Ranker’s might, capable of unmaking millions at will, their prowess on a realm defying mortal logic.

The notion that endless ants fell an elephant crumbled when they embodied the elephant—an unstoppable juggernaut numbers couldn’t touch.

Though allotting five minutes, Yveric exterminated over a million in under one, restraining himself heavily. He hadn’t unsheathed his lance, deployed no Astra energy, no techniques, not even his dreaded awakened power—just raw physicality in effortless motions.

This gulf separated Crownstar Life Rankers from inferiors, an abyss numbers or toil couldn’t span. Such entities dwelled in solitary supremacy, dwarfing all others like separate realms of might.