CLEAVER OF SIN Chapter 632: Cabinet Members

Wargrave family Elders hovered serenely in the sky, their gazes and faces tranquil and completely unperturbed, as if their abrupt arrival to challenge and possibly battle the Royal family meant nothing at all.

Malrik, moments from clashing with the Commander and Vice Commander, let a subtle smile curl at his mouth upon the Elders' arrival; without uttering a word, he merely dipped his head in a slight nod their way, and all eight mirrored it perfectly, their mutual recognition wordless but profoundly clear.

‘My youngest brother must have dispatched reinforcements for me,’ he pondered silently, a fleeting smile gracing his mind at the thought, his fury briefly easing with the reassuring presence of allies, only to blaze fiercely anew the next second as his attention whipped back to the Commanders ahead, his stare icing over instantly.

“What is the meaning of this, Elders of the Wargrave family?” the Imperial Knights' Commander barked, clutching his broadsword tight in one hand, his features contorting into a profound, obvious scowl; Malrik's strike was brazen yet forgivable amid his rage, but the full leadership of the Wargrave family acting this way screamed sheer lunacy.

“Are the Wargrave family staging a coup against the Empire?” the Vice Commander snapped, his voice sharp, curt, and brimming with leashed aggression, his fingers squeezing his sabre harder as he uttered the words.

“Commander of the Imperial Knights, I should be the one asking that question; on what grounds do you dare charge a Wargrave with treason?” Morthen Wargrave countered with detached poise, his tone steady and unruffled.

“And as for you,” the second Great Elder of the Wargrave, a woman named Morgana Wargrave, declared in a steady, deliberate voice aimed straight at the Vice Commander, “you should shut up when your Commander speaks; those second in command should learn to shut the fuck up,” she added firmly, her eyes fixing on the Vice Commander without a hint of doubt or mercy.

Morgana's declaration made the atmosphere quiver even more, as murderous intent exploded wildly through the heavens, the Vice Commander seeming ready to burst into violence any instant, his pent-up wrath hanging thick in the air.

“The First Sun dared to utter words about usurping the throne, killing the Emperor, and accusing the Emperor of mind manipulation; all these are punishable by death under the Zarethorn Imperial Law,” the Commander affirmed resolutely, locking eyes with Morthen without backing down, his posture unyielding.

In the world of Crymora, mind manipulation ranked as just another power; no law banned it, nor did any ability get labeled evil or prohibited by default, since awakenings lay beyond personal choice, and at its core, strength was neutral—merely a weapon forged by its master.

“Ohhh... is that so?” Morthen replied, a serene, faintly mocking smile playing on his lips, “well then, here is the First Sun; I would very much like to see you carry out the Laws of the Empire,” he went on, his smile sharpening menacingly with subtle taunt.

The remaining Elders held their tongues, none daring to interject, leaving Great Elder Morthen—the eldest and foremost—to command the scene completely.

The Commander refrained from acting; he'd lunged at Malrik without pause before, but now nine Crownstar Life Rankers confronted him. Moreover, though the younger crowd might overlook it, Morthen Wargrave posed a far deadlier threat than appearances suggested, his unassuming Librarian role failing to mask his horrifying might.

And so, a tense impasse gripped the battlefield, not from balanced caution, but from the Wargraves' calculated pause, their forbearance deliberate, purposeful, and darkly anticipatory.

Indeed, rash assaults on the Imperial family risked countless Imperial Laws and tangled politics, yet none of that mattered now. When one Wargrave faced peril, the others rallied instantly without debate, be it just or not. Reprimands could wait till home; against foes from outside, their bond stood unbreakable.

Right in the next moment, ten powerful Crownstar Life Rank auras exploded fiercely from inside the Imperial Palace, rocketing skyward and looming massively overhead; nearly at the same instant, ten beams of dazzling light streaked upward at blinding speed, positioning themselves next to the Imperial Army's Commander and Vice Commanders in a show of crushing dominance.

These ten fresh arrivals turned out to be core members of the Imperial family cabinet—such as Prime Ministers and top officials—who commanded vast power within the Royal family and oversaw the Empire's everyday functions. After all, an Empire of that enormous scale couldn't be managed solely by the Emperor; it demanded a web of talented experts, reliable confidants, and mighty leaders to ensure its firmness and dominance.

"How dare the Wargrave family stir chaos at the Empire's very core," one Royal cabinet member declared, his voice level but brimming with bottled rage.

"We are not attacking; we simply require the Emperor to compensate us for attempting to mentally manipulate one of our heirs, as well as to compensate us for attacking our First Sun and falsely framing him for treason." Morthen replied with a casual shrug.

Even though the balance had tipped to twelve Imperial figures facing off against nine Wargrave members, zero Wargraves betrayed any worry or shifted at the seeming inferiority, their countenances rock-solid like the numbers counted for nothing.

Hearing Morthen’s declaration left the Commander and Vice Commander seething with fury; shock overwhelmed their features as they grappled to absorb the statement, doubting if they'd caught it right. The First Sun had barged into the Imperial Palace, yet here they demanded payback—such nerve verged on outright lunacy.

"The arrogance... you dare demand compensation from the Emperor himself? It seems the Wargrave family has long outgrown their usefulness," another Cabinet member proclaimed icily.

"I would very much like to see you attempt to weed us out then, Mr. Cabinet Member," Morgana fired back without pause, her retort a brazen taunt aimed squarely at the Imperial family and its ruling body.

The third Great Elder, Damian, shrugged his shoulders leisurely as he murmured, apparently to himself, though his words rang out sharp and clear to everyone there, "It seems it is finally time for me to stretch myself after remaining idle at home for a few months."

His remark sparked subtle, keen smirks on the eight Elders' faces, their combat fervor pulsing outward in surges, their auras ramping up relentlessly second by second. Fundamentally, they were Wargraves—warriors who flourished in the heat of fights and slaughter—and the looming clash with the Imperial Palace now awakened a primal urge within.

"It seems the time for words is finally over," Malrik uttered coldly, his voice edged with ice as his hand crept toward his soul-bound katana, Solaris, his purpose glaringly obvious.

The sky's temperature skyrocketed at a terrifying pace, the air itself contorting as if space risked dissolving into molten form beneath the colossal, choking pressure from twenty-one Crownstar Life Rankers clustered together, their merged might twisting reality's weave as the strain hit its explosive peak.