CLEAVER OF SIN

Asher's figure tore through the forest at immense speed, a streak of purple light splitting through the dense woods as he moved without the slightest concern for concealment. He made no attempt to hide his presence.

In fact, he moved openly, deliberately allowing criminals and Emovirae to sense him and target him.

Whenever they did, the outcome was always the same, one swift strike from him was enough to obliterate them, or, if he chose not to act, Virelass would intercept with her own terrifying efficiency.

She often moved of her own accord, her silver edges gleaming as she dealt with threats that dared to approach.

So far, Asher had yet to encounter an Emovira above Grade Three or a criminal stronger than the Brightstar Life Rank. It was as though the overwhelming majority of students were being tested against opponents of that specific level.

'From the little time I spent with Darissa, she should be able to handle a Grade Four Emovira or even a Spark Blazestar Life Rank criminal against the cost of some injuries. That means there should be enemies of that caliber out here… so why haven't I encountered any?' Asher mused, his thoughts racing as his body moved with refined fluidity.

His movements as he darted between trees displayed a grace and precision that would put even the most agile monkeys to shame.

'What a dull exam,' he thought with a growing sense of boredom. 'If the next destination turns out to be just as uninspiring as that cavern pit, I may as well give up on the map entirely and simply focus on maintaining my ranking.'

At this moment, Asher was heading toward another marked location on the parchment map clutched in his pocket, his patience was wearing thin.

He craved battle, something worthy of his strength, something that would make his blood boil with excitement. Six months of endless training had honed him, strengthened him, refined him.

But despite all that preparation, he had not once felt the exhilarating rush of a true life-or-death clash. Training was valuable, yes, but it could never replace the raw thrill of real combat.

As he entertained these dissatisfied thoughts, space itself seemed to ripple before him.

Suddenly, something entered the range of his Omni Perception with a sound like air splitting apart under extreme force.

In an instant, the object was upon him, streaking toward his temple with lethal intent. But Asher did not so much as twitch. He didn't need to. Virelass had long taken it upon herself to handle projectiles, and she did not fail him now.

In a blur of silver, her sharp edges lashed forward, intercepting the attack with flawless precision. The object split into two perfect halves, each fragment tearing past Asher's head before embedding itself into the trunks of two trees behind him. The impact was so violent that the trees burst apart in showers of splinters.

"A bone?" Asher muttered to himself, his eyes narrowing.

His gaze snapped toward the direction from which the attack had come. For a brief moment, there was only silence.

Then, a sound came.

A step.

Another step.

And then another.

The owner of those deliberate, measured footsteps finally emerged into view.

It was a woman.

She stood at six feet and one inch in height, only five inches shorter than Asher himself. Her long white hair cascaded freely down her back, not tied into a ponytail like Darissa's, but perfectly arranged as though even the wind dared not disturb its flow.

Her eyes were pitch-black, a stark contrast against her snowy hair, but somehow the two extremes suited her unsettlingly well.

She was Ryaen Silvershade, the daughter of Duke Rhydion Silvershade, and the twin sister of Ryan Silvershade.

Her presence was calm, collected, and profoundly serene. She moved with the kind of poise that suggested the world itself bent in deference to her steps.

Asher's gaze lingered on her. He took in her deadly beauty, her tranquil demeanor, and the posture that conveyed carelessness while simultaneously radiating dangerous intent.

Normally, he might have been unsure of her identity, but the earlier attack had already betrayed her. A strike launched from a bone, it left no room for doubt.

He didn't need to guess. He already knew exactly who she was.

Unconsciously, a small smile tugged at Asher's lips. His purple eyes flickered briefly toward the scoreboard floating high above. The margin between him and William, who sat in second place, had grown absurd, almost comical. But Asher wasn't checking the rankings. His gaze was fixed on something else entirely.

'Two hours and fifty minutes remaining,' he thought calmly.

He wasn't concerned with points, not now. He merely wanted to enjoy the battle he felt was about to unfold.

"You must be the Tenth Sun, Asher Wargrave," Ryaen spoke at last. Her voice was sweet, charming, yet laced with an edge of... something.

Asher raised an eyebrow. He was not the type to indulge in long speeches, villainous monologues, or heroic declarations. But Ryaen was neither villain nor hero, just another candidate, standing across from him with far too much time to spare.

For once, he indulged the moment.

"I seem to be growing more popular by the day," he replied dryly. "But if you're here to confess your feelings, I'll have to stop you right there." His tone was flat, mildly amused, and laced with sarcasm.

Ryaen paused, caught off guard by his sudden change of topic. After a moment, she brushed it aside and returned to her purpose.

"I'm Ryaen Silvershade, twin sister to Ryan Silvershade. I'm sure you remember him."

"Hmmm… oh yes, I remember," Asher said, his voice carrying the dismissive air of one recalling something insignificant. "He's the one who tried to force the Royal Princess into something she wanted no part of."

Ryaen's brows furrowed slightly. Something about this Tenth Sun was wrong... abnormal. Wargraves were supposed to be serious, disciplined, defined by cold indifference and stoic faces. But the Tenth Sun standing before her seemed entirely different, playful, sarcastic, unconcerned.

'Is he adopted?' she wondered briefly.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Asher spoke again. "So, are you here to avenge him after he lost a spar against me?"

Ryaen shook her head. "I'm not. My father suggested the spar to begin with, and besides, you won fair and square. Just because Ryan is my twin doesn't mean I intend to spend my life cleaning up after him or avenging every one of his failures."

'Surprisingly not cliche,' Asher thought, having already assumed she was here for some revenge arc.

"I'm simply here to take away half of your points," Ryaen said calmly.

With that, she slid into a martial stance. Her legs parted, knees bending slightly, and her arms rose to chest level as her dark gaze locked firmly on Asher.

If her opponent had been anyone else, she would have attacked immediately. But this was Asher Wargrave, the current leader of the scoreboard. Caution was necessary. If she misstepped, she would be the one to lose half her points.

Though rumors had spread about the supposed talentless nature of the Tenth Sun, she had never once believed them. Defeating her lackluster twin brother was trivial, but surviving the Wargrave's True Awakening? That was something else entirely.

Even so, despite his place at the top of the rankings, Ryaen had no doubt about the outcome in her mind.

She would win.