CLEAVER OF SIN Chapter 697: Reflection

Finch remained utterly silent throughout Lior’s discourse, finding himself without any words to offer the Emovira. What could he possibly say? That he would reform? That he would strive to do better? That he required time to deliberate? Or perhaps, that his inherent Good Luck would propel him to the pinnacle regardless of his cultivation efforts?

He recognized that his most significant vulnerability was not his notably corpulent physique, but rather his own mindset and resolve. After all, as Lior had astutely observed, Finch had coasted through life, carried by circumstances without ever truly challenging his own limitations or pushing beyond them.

His thoughts inevitably drifted to his cherished, endearing sister, whose constant affirmations of him being the 'Strongest Big Brother' echoed in his mind. A pang of worry struck him – how profoundly disappointed would she become upon discovering he was merely one talented student among many, nothing exceptional, nothing deserving of such unwavering faith and belief?

Finch held his friendships with Asher and Williams in high regard. His camaraderie with Asher wasn't solely due to the latter's status as a Wargrave, though he acknowledged it as a welcome benefit, a perk he certainly appreciated and would enjoy when opportunities arose. It was, after all, uncommon to casually associate with someone from such a distinguished lineage.

He couldn't help but picture the sheer inadequacy of his own future: while Williams and Asher would undoubtedly become forces that shook the world, he, Finch, would merely return to his father's domain to inherit the Baronial title. He, who had once shared laughter, jokes, meals, drinks, and even sleeping quarters with a Wargrave – a distinction few could claim, not even the former Emperor had enjoyed such informal familiarity.

'Crownstar Life Rank,' Finch mused internally. Such an accomplishment seemed astronomically distant. Even exceptionally gifted individuals within the Zarethorne Empire typically achieved this rank in their seventies, or even eighties. This implied that for him, Finch, to reach that level would necessitate decades of dedicated effort, unless he acquired some extraordinary, talent-amplifying ability, as Lior had previously suggested – something capable of dramatically accelerating his progress.

'In a decade,' his mind replayed Asher’s confident assertion of reaching that rank within ten years. Finch harbored no doubt concerning the boy's capability; after all, the First Sun stood as a living testament to such rapid progression. Furthermore, the Duke of the Wargraves was rumored to possess achievements remotely comparable to the First Sun's astounding feats, thereby substantiating that such extraordinary accomplishments were, in fact, attainable.

'Where shall I be in a decade?' he pondered, standing composedly within his Astra energy barrier, his gaze momentarily unfocused. Ultimately, he possessed no foresight; he could only hope to achieve a standing that would permit him to remain a friend to Williams and the Wargrave, rather than a mere burden trailing in their wake.

As he was lost in contemplation, his Astra energy barrier vibrated violently as Williams’ form collided with it. This was immediately followed by Williams skillfully evading, only for Asher’s foot to shatter the barrier in the subsequent moment. Finch remained unfazed, standing calmly within the remnants of the Astra energy barrier as he met Asher’s gaze, before Asher broke eye contact.

Finch's eyes tracked Asher's swift movements. The next astonishing sight was Asher dousing Williams' face with soup, leaving both Finch and Lior utterly stunned, as neither had anticipated such an action. While they pondered Asher's peculiar behavior, they overheard his explanation to Williams.

Upon hearing Asher's rationale, Lior couldn't refrain from posing a series of questions, his voice resonating within Finch’s mind as they shifted to telepathic communication: "Finch, are you absolutely certain this peculiar Asher is the same age as you? Are you convinced he is even human? Is it truly possible he failed his awakening twice, as you previously claimed?"

"Do not harbor excessive surprise," Finch responded with a mental sigh, "his entire lineage operates on a fundamentally broken and overpowered level. They are, in essence, walking, breathing cheat codes," he conveyed telepathically, his thoughts tinged with a reluctant resignation.

"Honestly, I suspect he might be some ancient Emovira masquerading as a Human, or perhaps an aged Human on the brink of death who utilized some ability to transfer his soul into this youth, or something along those lines," Lior mused. "His talent, his experience, his swordsmanship, his sheer finesse, the effortless grace, the unnerving calmness – these are not qualities one expects from someone his age," his mental voice echoed, laced with profound disbelief.

Lior had indeed encountered numerous powerful Humans throughout his existence, yet Asher's prowess far surpassed any reasonable expectation for his age; he was exceptionally refined, remarkably composed, which was precisely why Lior consistently referred to Asher as abnormal.

"Wait until you encounter the First Sun; then you will truly grasp what I mean by a 'cheating bloodline,'" Finch declared, shaking his head as he recalled the sheer, unadulterated absurdity of such extraordinary individuals.

"Sigh... well, I suppose if he were some ancient Emovira or a Human, his disposition would be peculiar, and he'd likely possess more knowledge than he ought to," Lior mused, shaking his head at the sheer improbability of his own conjecture, though he entertained the thought nonetheless.

They both observed Asher mending Williams with an effortless grace, his proficiency visibly escalating in real-time. However, surprise had long since abandoned them; such extraordinary feats from him seemed almost expected now, a testament to the impossibilities they had grown accustomed to witnessing.

Finch lowered his Astra energy barrier, the sparring match having concluded. He approached Asher, who was squatting and awarding Williams a few academy points, a silent gesture of recognition for his efforts. Asher then stood and turned towards Finch, acknowledging his presence.

"I had no idea you were such an effective instructor," Finch remarked, his tone nonchalant.

"I do my best," Asher responded with a shrug, as if it were a trivial matter.

"And you appear on the verge of collapse," Finch commented, his gaze shifting to William, who was struggling to regain his footing, his body clearly pushed beyond its limits.

"At least I'm still standing. With this spar, the likelihood of my demise on a battlefield has been considerably diminished," William declared with a confident smile, his voice remarkably steady despite his battered state.

Finch lightly shook his head at the bold statement. He then turned back to Asher. "So, can I get in on some of that training? I know I hesitated earlier, but it seems far too beneficial to remain on the sidelines," he explained, hoping Asher's reduced workload would facilitate his request.

Asher remained silent for a beat before calmly shaking his head. "You missed your chance, Finch. I'm sorry, but I cannot assist you now," he stated evenly.

Finch paused for a moment before nodding his acceptance. He offered no further words, recognizing that his own indecision and apprehension had cost him this invaluable opportunity. There was no one else to hold accountable but himself.

"Envious of my progress and now you want a piece of the action?" William quipped with a teasing smirk, even in his exhausted condition.

Finch’s gaze shifted to him. "You do realize you're quite vulnerable right now, don't you? I could easily land a few punches or kicks, and you'd be powerless to retaliate," he retorted, a smirk mirroring William's appearing on his own lips. The earlier introspection and the conversation with Lior faded into the recesses of his mind, masked by a composed and unperturbed facade that revealed nothing of his true thoughts.

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