Cleaver Of Sin

Chapter 328: Fanatical Admiration

Arriving at the Rivelle Manor, Asher stepped quietly into the grand building. The air was thick with the lingering scent of smoke and iron, remnants of the chaos that had swept through the territory. The two guards he had seen stationed at the entrance the previous day were nowhere to be found. Asher didn’t need to ask what had happened, his mind already told him they were either dead or aiding in the aftermath of the Monster Tide’s destruction.

The manor, once a place of calm nobility, now carried an aura of weariness. Stepping inside, Asher was greeted by the old head butler, whose back slightly hunched as he bowed, his demeanor still carrying the discipline of years in service.

”Welcome back, Tenth Sun. Young Lord Whale, Young Lord Canestane,” the butler greeted respectfully. His voice trembled slightly, whether from exhaustion or reverence, Asher couldn’t tell.

Asher’s purple eyes lingered on the man for a brief moment before he nodded curtly and walked past without a word. He was far too tired to engage in polite conversation. Finch and William followed silently, mirroring his exhaustion as they headed to their respective rooms.

Closing the heavy door behind him, Asher released a deep, tired sigh. His body ached all over, and for the first time since morning, he allowed himself to feel the weight of fatigue. Raising his arm, he glanced at his vambrace, it was dented and cracked. His gaze shifted downward to his damaged breastplate and greaves, both of which bore the marks of battle.

Throughout the entire Monster Tide that had lasted for hours, he had been struck only once, and that single blow, delivered by the Grave Rank Goblin, had nearly torn through all his defenses. His armor was battered, his clothes shredded, and yet he had survived.

With another tired sigh, Asher unstrapped the armor piece by piece. Each fragment fell to the floor with a dull metallic clatter, rolling gently across the marble. Too drained to properly organize them, he simply kicked the pile lightly to the side with his foot. Then, stripping off his torn garments, he stepped into the adjoining bathroom.

The moment the warm water hit his skin, the tension in his body began to ease. The scent of blood, sweat, and smoke washed away gradually. His reflection in the water revealed faint dried blood, some his own, most not. For half an hour, he remained there, letting the water carry away the remnants of battle until his mind grew blank.

When Asher finally stepped out, steam trailed behind him. Drying himself off, he dressed in a fresh set of dark, comfortable clothes. His movements were slow, almost mechanical, as though every action weighed a ton. Moving to the table beside the bed, he waved his hand, and in an instant, a variety of dishes materialized, prepared meals that Lyra had packed for him before his departure to Star Academy.

After enduring endless hours of battle, his body demanded replenishment. He wasn’t an immortal cultivator who could survive solely on Astra energy. On Crymora, that was impossible, at least, for now. Even his father and other peak powerhouses still needed sustenance from time to time, despite being able to go weeks without it.

Asher ate in silence. He didn’t know the current mental state of the maids or what was happening elsewhere within the manor, and he had no intention of asking anyone to cook for him in the midst of this recovery effort. After finishing the meal, which filled both his stomach and spirit, he rose from the chair and climbed onto the bed.

His purple eyes wandered briefly toward the window, where the sunlight streamed through, casting soft golden lines across the floor. His vision blurred as exhaustion took over, and soon his eyes drifted shut. The dream realm claimed his consciousness swiftly and without resistance.

The Monster Tide had ended. At long last, it was time for him to rest.

Elsewhere in the manor, Finch and William were in a completely different state of mind. The two were sprawled on the same bed, though one of them, William, didn’t exactly appreciate the arrangement.

”Damn, William, you didn’t tell me the Tenth Sun was this incredible!” Finch exclaimed with unrestrained enthusiasm, his eyes still glimmering as though replaying the battle in his mind. ”The way he moved, the control, the power, it’s like he was born for combat!”

William groaned, dragging a hand over his face. ”Finch, can you please go to your own room? I’m trying to get some sleep here. I’m exhausted.” His voice carried the dull tone of a man on the brink of collapse. ”And besides,” he added, rolling over, ”he told you to call him Asher, not ’Tenth Sun.’”

But Finch, of course, didn’t seem to hear him.

When William had finally finished his bath and laid down, ready to surrender to slumber, Finch had barged in without so much as a knock, behaving as though he owned the entire manor. Now he was bouncing with energy, while William could barely keep his eyes open.

”It’s because you sleep too much that you’re not on Asher’s level,” Finch declared matter-of-factly. ”You should be training instead, maybe then you could run through the sky in a blur of thunder and lightning like him!” His tone bordered on fanatical admiration.

William’s lips twitched irritably. He had just spent hours battling nonstop, and now this chatterbox wanted him to start training again?

”Remind me, Finch,” he muttered dryly, ”aren’t you the weakest among us? Ranked two hundredth in the entire class? Shouldn’t you be the one training to catch up?”

Finch shrugged with complete indifference. ”I’ve already accepted that I’m not as talented as you two. That’s just reality.”

William turned his head, glaring at him. ”Well, I’ve accepted reality too. Asher is a Wargrave, and an abnormal one at that. I’m not wasting my life chasing an impossible dream. I’m going to enjoy what’s left of my peace while I can.”

He knew why Finch was still so energetic. Unlike him, Finch didn’t need to channel Astra energy to control his soul-bound weapon. The weapon’s abilities responded directly to his thoughts, almost as if it were an extension of his will.

Because of that, Finch barely consumed any Astra energy during combat asides during physical augmentation. His reserves remained almost untouched, while William’s had been drained switching between four different elemental styles.

”Tsk,” Finch clicked his tongue. ”You’ve already given up before you even tried. That’s the mentality of a loser,” he said, rising from the bed.

’Finally,’ William thought, relief washing over him as Finch stood. ’He’s leaving at last.’

But that hope was short-lived. Instead of heading for the door, Finch suddenly extended one leg, concentrating as an Astra-forged foothold materialized beneath his foot. The glowing platform lifted him gently into the air, just above the marble floor.

”I can’t believe it’s working!” he said, his voice full of childish excitement.

Then, as he tried to take another step and form a second foothold, he failed miserably. His chubby body lost balance, and with an audible thud, he fell face-first to the floor, his chubby cheeks squishing against the polished marble like an overeager pancake.

William sighed deeply. ”Can’t you at least do this in your own room?”

”I’m not training,” Finch said defensively, getting up. ”I just wanted to see if I could pull it off on my first try. Asher did it effortlessly, so I figured I might as well give it a go.”

William smirked tiredly. ”If people see you here, they might misunderstand... Fatty Wang.”

Finch froze, a deep frown crossing his round face. ”I’m not leaving because you called me Fatty Wang,” he said flatly, brushing himself off. ”I just don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea.” With that, he walked toward the door and disappeared into the hallway.

The moment the door clicked shut, William let out a long, contented exhale.

”Finally,” he muttered, sinking back into the bed. Within moments, sleep claimed him, his consciousness drifting peacefully into the same dream realm that now held Asher.