CLEAVER OF SIN

Within the Separate Dimension where the Star Academy was located, stood a massive building that rose like a grand castle, its silhouette dominating the horizon. It was situated hundreds of kilometres away from the sprawling forest where the combat exam was currently being held.

Inside this colossal edifice, deep within its heart, a grand hall stretched out with walls adorned in intricate murals and paintings that seemed to breathe with history and money.

The atmosphere within this grand hall was heavy, thick, and immense. It pressed down like the weight of the sky themselves, for every individual who dared to draw breath or simply exist within this chamber was someone who stood at the very peak of Crymora.

Their names alone commanded awe, their titles reshaped lives, and their mere presence could silence the roaring of storms.

And yet, none of these people flared their presence nor unleashed even the faintest whisper of their power or aura. There was no need. The air trembled regardless, not because of aggression, but because their gathered existence alone distorted it in subtle ways.

All eyes were riveted on the numerous heads-up display screens arranged across the hall. Each screen projected living images and sounds of the combat examin unfolding in the forests far away. The screens depicted numerous children, many of whom battled for their lives against savage criminals or Emovirae.

Others, weaker or less fortunate, were seen running in desperation, fleeing from enemies they could not hope to defeat.

Men and women of unimaginable strength and influence sat in silence within this vast chamber. Their gazes, calculating and sharp, locked firmly on the battles displayed before them. Among those present were the Dukes of the Ducal Households of the mighty Zarethorne Empire.

At the centre sat none other than the Emperor himself, his regal figure calm yet commanding.

Even Marquis Darian Camber was present, despite the fact that his strength could not compare to some of the others gathered here.

Still, his presence alone was proof that he, too, was a man of immense influence and undeniable power.

At the very forefront of the assembly sat a woman whose existence seemed to eclipse all others. She reclined with a calmness that bordered on serenity, her every movement infused with a quiet authority. Though she appeared older than everyone present combined, her face carried not a day beyond thirty years of age. She was timeless, transcendent, as though she had broken free from the shackles of mortality and escaped the grasp of time itself.

Her beauty was otherworldly. Draped in a flowing gown of deep midnight blue, the fabric clung perfectly to her form and cascaded down like a tranquil river. Her long, black hair streamed down her back in elegant waves, each strand resembling the void itself, dark, endless, and absolute. Her eyes, twin pools of abyssal black, carried within them an unfathomable weight that magnified her lethal allure.

She was the kind of woman whose mere visage could topple empires, whose voice could silence armies, and whose presence could shake the foundations of the world. But beyond her beauty lay the true terror, her unmatched power.

She was the Sovereign of the Separate Dimension, the Principal of the Star Academy, the undisputed Goddess of Space.

Her birth name? Cindralis.

"Who would have thought the son of a Baron would stand above both the Ducal families and even the Royal family? Fascinating," Emperor Zolthemir Lux Vanthelmor spoke with calm indifference, his sharp eyes observing William's battle displayed on the hovering screen. His tone betrayed neither approval nor concern.

He was not the only one unbothered by the revelation. The others in the room remained impassive, neither blinking nor flinching. After all, there existed no rule that all great powerhouses within the Zarethorne Empire must hail from noble bloodlines. The annals of history were littered with examples that proved otherwise.

Cassandra, Vice Commander of the Wargrave Knight Round, was the daughter of a mere Baron. Her superior, Commander Yevric of the same order, was born a commoner. Lily of the Abyss, a woman whose name inspired both reverence and terror, had risen from nothing but dust and obscurity. Even the Sovereign of the Separate Dimension herself, Cindralis, had been born the daughter of a merchant.

The Dukes and the Emperor merely held their positions at the top because of their ancestral bloodline abilities, powers that could be inherited and refined through the ages. That was all.

"The ability to copy is indeed rare," Cindralis said softly, her melodic voice drifting like silk across the hall. "And he was wise enough to use it against a Wargrave."

Her calm gaze remained on the screen, where William Canestane effortlessly cut down a horde of Grade 1 and Grade 2 Emovirae with a grace that seemed almost casual.

The others within the room nodded. William's actions spoke for themselves. He displayed affinities identical to those of Asher Wargrave, proving that he had indeed copied the young heir's abilities.

"But his ability appears to be limited," Duchess Syvrein Stormveil observed sharply, her eyes narrowing with an analytical gleam. "He failed to replicate the Tenth Sun's rapier weapon, and even with the elements he copied, his control is lacking compared to the original. At best, he commands only half the precision and control."

With nothing but a single glance, she had dissected the flaws in William's copy ability. The disparity between William and Asher's mastery was glaring. Asher handled his powers with insulting ease, as though he were born to command them.

William, however, struggled, not overtly, but subtly, in ways that only masters of their craft could perceive. His ranges were narrower, his destructive force diminished.

But this was no fault of William's. He could not copy the Star affinity nor the mysterious Star Energy that Asher wielded. Without those, matching Asher's devastating power was impossible.

Moreover, William lacked the absurdly vast Astra reserves that Asher had. He could not afford to unleash his copied elements recklessly. He also did not possess the Perfect Astra Control that made Asher a prodigy above prodigies.

But, despite these shortcomings, William still stood above nearly every other combatant, second only to Asher himself. And he had achieved this with merely fifty percent control over three of Asher's affinities.

This truth set minds racing within the chamber. Deep down, thoughts of recruitment and manipulation churned. If William could gain fifty percent control of the abilities belonging to anyone in this room, would that not make him a catastrophic force on the battlefield? Even his limitations made him dangerously valuable.

And what if those limitations were not permanent? What if, with time, training, and maturity, his cap on control increased? What if the abilities he copied became permanent? What if, one day, he learned to wield multiple abilities at once?

To the gathered powerhouses, one truth was undeniable: William must be drawn to their side. He must be nurtured, tested, and pushed until his limits shattered.

But Emperor Zolthemir thought differently. He had no need for elaborate plans or bribes. He needed only to manipulate the boy's memories, to twist his loyalties from within.

Raising the Canestane family's title or showering them with rewards was unnecessary. His methods would be simpler, and far more effective.

As for Duke Azeron Wargrave, his attitude was colder still. To him, it did not matter how much William copied. The original would always eclipse the imitation. In fact, he almost looked forward to Willaim and Asher's inevitable meeting.

For when Asher Wargrave finally crossed swords with William Canestane, Azeron had no doubt that his son would drive the boy mercilessly into the ground.