CLEAVER OF SIN

Darissa stared in utter awe and paralyzing shock as she watched a boy, one who appeared to be no older than herself, wipe out dozens of Emovirae with a single devastating attack.

She saw the very fabric of space twist unnaturally, gravity groaning under the force of his control, before the Emovirae's heads erupted outward in a grotesque shower of crimson and shadow.

Her mind screamed at her that what she had just witnessed could not possibly be real. She doubted her eyes, doubted her senses, doubted her very perception of the world. Everything inside her reeled as though reality itself had chosen to deceive her.

As the seconds dragged on, her trembling gaze remained fixed on the sight before her, the battlefield littered with countless corpses of the Emovirae, only for them to dissolve into dust and vanish into the void, erased as though they had never existed in the first place.

Darissa's heart hammered inside her chest. She had been hailed as a genius long before she had even awakened, praised for the speed with which she grasped intricate sound theories, mastered sound applications, and internalized various techniques.

She had been her father's pride and hope for the future, and though his constant reminders kept her from becoming arrogant like so many other young nobles, she had still carried herself with dignity and pride.

At present, she stood at the Pulse Brightstar Life Rank, a single sub-rank away from reaching the very peak of the Brightstar Life Rank. That alone had filled her with a sense of achievement and confidence. She was proud of her progress, proud of her ability, proud of the countless training she had endured.

That rank had allowed her to face Grade 3 Emovirae one after another, felling them continuously and withstanding their numbers through grit and honed talent. Her strength was real, her talent undeniable.

Yet, for all her talent and cultivation, her father, Darian Camber, had always reminded her of humility. He made certain she understood that no matter how high she climbed, arrogance would blind her, would crush her beneath the weight of reality.

He had instilled in her the understanding that no matter their accomplishments, there were always beings greater, more monstrous, far more terrifying.

Darian had often told her about their bloodline, that though their lineage possessed immense destructive potential, comparable to that of Ducal households, they had never been able to draw out the full destructive majesty of that power. And he had warned her of those who stood above even them.

Especially the Wargraves.

He spoke of them with both reverence and wariness, those monsters who were born with overwhelming gifts: an elemental affinity, a soul-born weapon, and even a physique tempered by their bloodline's unimaginable heritage. Each Wargrave was a walking calamity, an embodiment of destruction, a being destined for greatness.

But even among the Wargraves, there were limits. Each one was typically known to possess only a single elemental affinity. But the boy standing before her, the one who had massacred scores of Emovirae as though they were insects, had revealed not one but three affinities.

She had seen them with her own eyes, Lightning, Space, and Light.

And deep down, her instincts whispered that he might still be hiding more.

Her lips parted unconsciously, her heart lurching as a thought clawed through her mind.

'He must have already stepped into the Blazestar Life Rank.'

Her father's words replayed in her head endlessly, overlapping with the sheer reality before her. She could not reconcile it. The boy before her stood calmly amidst the carnage, as though the battle had been nothing more than a passing breeze, while she felt as though her very worldview had been torn apart.

'How can he be this strong?' Darissa's mind screamed as she struggled to make sense of it. 'He awakened only a year ago. A single year! How could anyone, anyone, advance so far, so fast?'

Then, as though he had heard her thoughts, the boy's head turned slowly in her direction.

Purple eyes met her green gaze.

The cavern around them was cloaked in darkness, yet their enhanced senses rendered it meaningless. They could both see each other with perfect clarity, as if daylight itself illuminated the space between them.

The moment their eyes locked, the air seemed to change. Tension surged like an invisible current, filling the cavern, choking the silence. For an instant, they did not move. They did not speak. They simply stared.

And in that silence, an unspoken understanding passed between them.

Before descending into this pit, there had been no agreement between them, not verbal, not even tacit. They had not promised each other truce or cooperation. Each had entered with a single purpose: to earn points before others arrived and stole opportunities from them.

But now, with every Emovirae annihilated, only the two of them remained. And with that realization, the tension mounted further, the possibility of battle looming heavily over their heads.

Darissa knew what it meant. If either of them chose to act, then one would walk away with half the points of the other.

But she was not delusional.

She was not blind.

She was not foolish enough to imagine that she stood a chance against the being before her. Through her Echolocation skill, she had watched every detail of his massacre. He stood untouched, uninjured, unshaken. Not even the faintest trace of exhaustion clung to him. His only imperfection was the faint dust that clung to his clothes.

Darissa's pride shriveled before that reality. She knew it with certainty: not even a single percent chance of victory existed.

Some might have accused her of selling herself short, but she had been raised to recognize reality, to confront truth without delusion. And reality here was merciless, there was no hope of escape either.

How could she possibly flee from someone with three elemental affinities, all of which could augment speed to incomprehensible levels?

Her hands tightened on her sword hilt. Her resolve hardened. Even if she had no hope of victory, she would not allow herself to fall without resistance. She would strike, even if only once. She would land at least one blow. She would leave her mark.

With a sharp breath, she shifted. Her stance deepened, her Astra veins pulsed with the promise of release, and her body seemed to transform. In that moment, she looked like a valkyrie, a warrior prepared to clash with destiny itself.

But before she could act, laughter suddenly burst forth, echoing explosively within the cavern.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!"

The sound was carefree, startling, almost cheerful.

Darissa's eyes widened as she stared at him in bewilderment. This… was not what she expected. The Wargraves were notorious for their stern, expressionless faces, their cold demeanor. They were beings who carried themselves with stoic indifference.

Yet here stood Asher, his body slightly bent as he held his stomach, his laughter rolling freely, echoing through the cavern.

Still, she did not falter in her stance. She kept her guard up, her sword ready, her green eyes never leaving him.

"Forgive me," Asher finally spoke, his voice carrying a strange mix of mirth and sincerity as he wiped away a small tear forming at the corner of his eye from laughing too hard. "You're just so serious, Darissa. You look like I'm about to devour you alive or something."

The tension in the air eased, though not completely. It hung lighter now, almost playful.

"Don't worry," Asher continued, his tone more casual, his posture relaxed. "I won't be attacking you. Even if we didn't make any agreements beforehand, I'm still a gentleman." He waved his hand dismissively, a light chuckle slipping from his lips.

Darissa blinked, her frown deepening. Relief washed over her, yes, but along with it came an unexpected sting. She felt hurt.

Her voice sharpened, cold and tinged with disappointment as she spoke, "Are you looking down on me because I'm a woman?"

Her green gaze narrowed, her tone heavy with the weight of wounded pride.