CLEAVER OF SIN Chapter 729: Lost

After a half-hour's journey, Asher finally ascended to the summit of the hill. His gaze landed upon a human figure he had previously spotted, a man seated serenely on the ground. With dark hair and eyes, a diagonal scar marked his cheek.

Asher's arrival at the peak drew the man's attention. "Urgh, finally, you are here," the man declared with a sigh of feigned impatience, though his voice remained utterly calm. "I’ve been waiting for ages, you know."

"Ohhh... so I got a Wargrave, the Tenth Sun at that," the man added, rising to his feet. His imposing height easily surpassed seven feet.

Asher's eyes briefly narrowed at the recognition, but his expression quickly returned to neutral. As an Instructor at the Star Academy, it was expected they would know of him, though Asher himself didn't recognize the man. This was a familiar occurrence, having happened before with Instructor Sane and Instructor Mira.

Had this been any other adversary, Asher would have already launched an attack. However, facing an Instructor demanded a different approach. They were not easily caught off guard, and Asher remained vigilant, unwilling to be deceived by the man's casual demeanor and relaxed movements.

'Crownstar Life Rank?' Asher pondered briefly before dismissing the thought, deeming it irrelevant to the present situation.

Clad in the same distinctive jumpsuit and bracelets as Asher, the man snapped his fingers the moment Asher arrived. Both pieces of equipment were instantly activated, seamlessly restricting his physical parameters to match Asher's current level, ensuring a fair contest.

Though no explanation was offered, Asher grasped the purpose by observation alone. After all, if the Instructors merely relied on overwhelming strength, students would gain little of value from such encounters.

"It’s a shame the other student is still climbing the hill," the man mused with a sigh. "I would have loved to take on both of you at the same time so I could rest afterward." His eyes shifted from his bracelet to meet Asher's gaze. "Here I come, Tenth Sun," he stated, his voice calm and tinged with anticipation.

The instant his words faded, the man had already closed the distance, appearing as a flickering blur. The tip of his dagger screamed towards Asher's eyes, an intent to inflict permanent blindness palpable in its speed.

Asher's senses blared warnings of imminent danger and death. His body instinctively recoiled, narrowly dodging the assault at the last possible second. His back arched profoundly, nearly parallel to the ground. Yet, the Instructor seemed to have anticipated Asher's every move. The dagger spun with practiced agility in the man's palm, transitioning instantaneously into a downward thrust.

Observing this, Asher flung himself sideways with frantic urgency. The dagger sliced through the air like fine silk just as he evaded. Asher's body tumbled violently across the terrain, but he wasted no time, scrambling back to his feet, his eyes sharply fixed on the Instructor.

The instant he did, however, a knee slammed into his ribcage from the side with brutal, merciless force.

A pained groan escaped Asher as his body was sent flying sideways like a tattered kite. Just as he was about to collide with a tree, he agilely twisted mid-air, like a nimble feline, his feet finding purchase on the bark with controlled precision. Without hesitation, he thrust his pole outward, smashing it forward with his full strength, not even needing to look.

The Instructor, having already closed the distance, effortlessly dodged with a grin, his dagger a blur as he unleashed a hundred strikes in the span of a single second.

Asher, having just landed back on the ground from the tree bark, immediately retracted his pole. He understood that evading this onslaught was impossible; his only recourse was to block.

With this grim realization, his speed surged to its apex. There was no room for holding back. His pole became a whirlwind, deflecting each incoming attack with remarkable accuracy and fluid motion. As he parried, the Instructor drove his fist into the earth with tremendous power. The peak shuddered violently, the ground beneath Asher cracking and destabilizing him as he fought to fend off the barrage.

Asher frowned, attempting to regain his footing, but it was too late. The remaining strikes found their mark, tearing into his flesh, his skin splitting open as blood sprayed into the air.

The Instructor had exploited that single, critical moment when Asher's focus was entirely on blocking the rapid attacks, disrupting his stance and allowing the earlier blows to connect.

Physical discomfort was nonexistent for Asher, or rather, it was deliberately disregarded. These were but minor abrasions; he had weathered far more severe agony before this very moment. His concentration intensified, senses sharpening to an extreme degree, his mind becoming a razor's edge as he attacked once more. His pole became a blur, unleashing a relentless torrent of strikes upon the Instructor.

The Instructor, with astonishing grace, simply dissolved from his position, not even deigning to block any of Asher's offensive maneuvers. However, the instant the Instructor vanished, Asher was already in pursuit. Yet, as Asher gave chase to the perceived distance, the Instructor, who had initially created space, annihilated it in the blink of an eye, reappearing directly before Asher with terrifying velocity.

Asher experienced a fleeting moment of bewilderment. The man had been retreating... and now, he had instantly bridged the gap between them.

The Instructor's dagger whistled a deadly song towards Asher's throat, but Asher, anticipating such a possibility, instinctively raised his pole and parried with flawless precision.

A sharp clang echoed as their weapons met in mid-air. With that resonant sound, both combatants became phantoms, their forms indistinguishable blurs amidst a cacophony of explosive impacts, their bodies a continuous whirlwind of motion.

Asher found himself entirely on the defensive, unable to land a single meaningful blow. Even when he managed to accurately predict the Instructor's movements, it invariably proved to be a deliberate trap, skillfully laid by his opponent.

Asher felt a growing sense of despair as the Instructor showcased techniques, intricate combinations, and seamless transitions that were utterly alien to anything Asher had witnessed throughout his entire existence.

With a thunderous impact, a powerful kick slammed into Asher's chest. His body was hurled backward, colliding violently with a tree, shattering it to pieces. Agonizing pain erupted in his chest and back, yet he dared not linger for even a microsecond.

He vanished instantly. The moment he did, the Instructor was already present, a fist blow carving a deep crater into the very spot Asher had occupied moments before. The Instructor closed the distance once more, affording Asher absolutely no opportunity to strategize, to gasp for air, or even to blink. He relentlessly pressed his advantage, mercilessly and without a flicker of hesitation.

The instant the space between them was again negligible, the Instructor abruptly flung a handful of sand directly towards Asher's eyes.

This tactic, however, was typically one Asher employed against his adversaries. He had, at least, anticipated a similar maneuver from his opponent at some juncture. He evaded instantly, but the very moment he shifted his position, he discovered the Instructor's dagger already poised precisely within the space he had dodged into.

With no other recourse, Asher used his pole to deflect the dagger aside. But as this action was completed, a second dagger, as if conjured from thin air, materialized. With a single, brutal sweep, the Instructor sliced across Asher's neck with chilling efficiency and effortless grace.

Blood arced through the air. In that instant, the combative exchange ceased.

Asher had been defeated, having failed to land a solitary clean strike, nor having been granted even the slightest respite to regain his composure.