Cleaver Of Sin

Chapter 382: Heaviness [Bonus Chapter]

Finch’s foot slammed into the earth below as he ran for his life, the soil tearing backwards as he blurred forward. Even as he ran frantically, he did not forget his training; he continuously tried to regulate his breathing rhythm in order to conserve stamina and strength. His chest rose and fell in a steady, disciplined cadence, the very rhythm that had been drilled into him countless times.

His soul-bound chain extended behind him, one end gripped tightly in his hand while the other floated, coiling and uncoiling like a living serpent, parrying any attacks that came from the rear. Finch heard the wind screaming in his ears, the violent rush of air slicing past him. He didn’t speak, didn’t think, instinct and reflex simply took over his chubby body. His arm blurred forward as he lifted his chain to intercept a threat he had not yet fully registered.

With a heavy, ringing ding, a dagger stabbed into one of the holes of his chain. Finch twisted his wrist sharply, trying to disarm the assassin, but the assassin was no mere bandit. It read Finch’s movements as though it had rewound and replayed his thoughts. The assassin disengaged instantly, retracting its dagger with professional ease, and in the same motion shifted angles mid-air. Its blade screamed toward Finch’s jaw.

Finch stepped backward, narrowly dodging the attack by a hair’s breadth, feeling the razor wind of the dagger kiss his cheek. But the assassin wasn’t finished. It lunged again, its dagger singing through the air, pursuing him like death itself. Before the blade could reach Finch, his soul-bound chain suddenly coiled around the assassin’s legs, binding it in place.

The assassin simply parted its stance, preparing to shatter the chain, but the soul-bound weapon did not budge. Before the assassin could react further, Finch’s fist, glowing with Astra energy, had already closed the distance.

With an explosive force, the assassin’s head burst apart like an overripe watermelon. Blood splattered across the trees and grass in violent streaks. The air shuddered as something sliced through it. Finch reacted immediately, dragging the corpse in front of him like a shield. Tens of senbon needles tore into the dead assassin’s body, embedding themselves so densely that the corpse turned pitch black from the poisoned points.

’There,’ Finch thought, his eyes instantly tracing the trajectory of the attack. Without hesitation, his chain expanded and extended, then blurred forward with immense force and weight, lashing out like a coiling serpent hungry for flesh.

Booming concussive sounds echoed through the forest as Finch’s chain tore through trees with merciless power. Some assassins failed to dodge in time and were reduced to unrecognizable chunks of meat. Finch may have been running, but that did not mean he had abandoned the will to fight.

Suddenly, a thick plant root shot outward with tremendous force, coiling around Finch’s torso in an attempt to bind him. Finch didn’t panic or struggle; he simply willed his chain back. It whipped across the root, tearing through it effortlessly. But the earth trembled in response. Tens, no, hundreds, of more plant roots erupted from the ground at once, shooting toward him like barbed spears.

Finch frowned, but his thoughts snapped into place as an idea came to mind. He immediately jumped onto his chain as it soared forward like a flying snake, weaving through the gaps between the colossal roots. Seeing Finch slip free, root spikes shot upward with lethal intent. Finch’s chains changed course mid-flight, twisting sharply. His body tore upward in a streak of black motion, narrowly dodging multiple roots that stabbed into the sky behind him.

As Finch was about to heave a sigh of relief, he felt a sudden pressure, the presence of someone landing on his chain. Without looking, Finch threw himself violently to the side. A slash tore through his shoulder, parting his flesh as crimson blood splattered into the air. Finch gritted his teeth, refusing to scream as pain blossomed across his shoulder. He plummeted downward, twisting mid-fall to face the assassin who had struck him.

Finch clicked his tongue in frustration. With a single thought, his chain wrapped around the assassin, who was still standing atop the chain, binding him before he could react. Once trapped, Finch gave the mental command. His soul-bound chain instantly constricted, crushing the assassin into a mess of pulverized flesh.

Blood rained from above as though the sky itself had been wounded. Finch’s eyes shifted downward as he plummeted. Below, sharpened roots waited eagerly to impale him. With another sharp thought, his chain vanished from its previous location and materialized in his hand. He swung it upward, halting his fall with a violent jerk that sent shockwaves through his arm.

Before he could even breathe, an enormous weight slammed onto his shoulders. ’Fuck! What ability is it this time? Gravity?’ he thought as the crushing heaviness forced his body downward. His entire form trembled under the pressure, his bones creaking audibly. With a thunderous crash, he collapsed into the earth, creating a crater. But even with his body embedded into the ground, the heaviness persisted.

Before Finch could command it, his soul-bound chain reacted, coiling around him like a protective serpent. One end shot outward in a full 360-degree sweep, a devastating circular strike.

Instantly, every assassin shot backward. Not one dared to block or tank the overwhelming force behind that swing. Dust and debris exploded upward in a swirling cloud. Finch felt the oppressive heaviness vanish the next moment. Without hesitation, he rose to his feet and propelled himself backward like a black bullet, gaining distance from the assassins regrouping around him.

’I can’t run forever. I have to get on the offensive,’ he thought. Another idea flashed through his mind, and without hesitation he acted on it. His knees dipped, his muscles coiled, and he launched himself into the sky like a fired projectile.

Upon reaching a considerable height, he formed a single Astra-forged platform beneath his feet. His soul-bound chain expanded in every direction, forming a massive black dome spanning almost a hundred meters. Finch’s eyes narrowed with a wicked glint as he gave the mental command.

Instantly, the dome compressed, its oval shape flattening into a colossal disc. Everything caught inside was crushed with unimaginable force. Blood burst into the air. Flattened corpses painted the forest floor. Trees were split, shattered, and crushed into splinters; boulders cracked apart under the pressure. The brown earth drank rivers of red.

Finch stood atop his Astra platform, chest heaving, gaze scanning the devastation. ’Maybe I should use this tactic for a bit... although I’m sure the ones who survived will be more cautious now,’ he thought.