Cleaver Of Sin

Chapter 449: Class Of His Own

Baron Whale, Baron Rivelle, and Baron Canestane, along with their wives, Lady Eleanor, Lady Vie, and Lady Isabella, stood in absolute silence, accompanied by a few healers and Knights who surrounded them. All of them watched what had unfolded before their very eyes, unable to tear their gazes away from the scene as though doing so would somehow shatter the reality they had just witnessed.

No one dared to speak at that moment. What could they even possibly say? Words felt meaningless, inadequate in the face of what they had just seen. They had watched something completely outside their expectations unfold before them. Well, Baron Rivelle had expected the outcome to a certain extent, he had seen Asher battle during the Monster Tide within his own territory, but even he had not anticipated the sheer ridiculous ease and calm demeanor with which Asher had handled all four of them.

They had expected a clash. They had expected abilities flaring to life, attacks flashing left and right, Astra energy erupting, and the battlefield being torn apart under the pressure of multiple high-level combatants. They had expected destruction, chaos, and spectacle. Yet none of that had happened. Instead, the Tenth Sun had simply and literally overpowered each and every one of them with absurd ease, as though the gap between them was so vast that no struggle was required at all.

Their thoughts inevitably drifted to the moment when he had placed Caldor, Annabelle, Finch, and William under illusion and then casually walked away. That alone was already beyond reason. None of them had even sensed him manipulate Astra in the slightest. There had been no fluctuation, no warning, no sign that an illusion had even been cast. And after that, as if that display had not been enough, he had dealt with all of them while sitting down, using only a single hand.

Yes, they had expected the final result. They had known, at least deep down, that the Tenth Sun would not lose. But they had not expected this chain of events that led to that outcome. They had not expected humiliation so complete, so effortless, that it left no room for excuses or self-deception.

And so, the silence stretched even further, growing heavier with every passing second.

They had all heard of the Wargrave bloodline. Its name carried weight across the world, spoken with reverence and fear in equal measure. Yet none of them had ever truly seen a Wargrave in action. After all, they were simply too weak to stand on the same battlefield as a Wargrave to begin with. Now that they were witnessing it firsthand, they could not help but be reminded of just how absurd such a bloodline truly was.

”The Tenth Sun is... ridiculous in every sense of the word,” Lady Vie murmured softly from the side. She had initially wanted to say insane, but she swallowed the word before it could leave her lips. She dared not utter it. She was more than aware of what the Wargraves had done to the Assassin Guild, and she had no desire to see that same fate fall upon her own family.

”My question is how someone of such an age can achieve such absurd swordsmanship,” Baron Canestane said, his gaze shifting toward the massive mound of sand at the side of the battlefield. They had all seen it clearly. Asher had cleaved a towering tsunami of sand cleanly in half with a single, ordinary swing. There had been no Astra energy involved, no elemental affinity, no technique or ability supporting it, just pure, unadulterated swordsmanship.

To them, it was simply impossible. Or rather, it should have been. There were people throughout the world who could replicate such a feat; even they themselves could easily do it. But the issue was not what he had done, it was who had done it. They had spent decades perfecting their crafts, exhausting every shred of their innate talent, refining their skills through countless battles and near-death experiences. And yet, here stood an eighteen-year-old child who had made a mockery of their decades of relentless effort.

Then there was the terrifying ease with which his sword flashed and unleashed its attacks. The way he had released over a hundred cuts across Finch’s body without dealing a single critical injury, all with one swing. The way he had split the Rivelle siblings’ sand barrier as though it were made of thin paper, then injured both of them with over a hundred cuts each, just like Finch, again, all with a single sword swing.

”Are all Wargraves like this?” Lady Eleanor asked quietly, her gaze fixed on the purple-haired boy who stood calmly at the center of it all, his cape billowing behind him ever so gently, as though the world itself bowed to his presence.

”I doubt it,” Lady Isabella replied after a moment. ”A bloodline cannot continue to produce monsters of this caliber without consequences.” Yet even she seemed unconvinced by her own words. Her eyes lingered on the sword marks etched into the ground, remembering how Asher had blown the battlefield apart with a single swing. All of it had been done without technique or abilities, just swordsmanship taken to an almost incomprehensible extreme.

Baron Whale’s gaze shifted toward Baron Rivelle, who continued to stare at Asher as though trying to peer beneath his skin, as if he wanted to see what truly lay hidden within him. ”Was he really this ridiculous and powerful when he was in your territory?” Baron Whale asked.

Baron Rivelle remained silent for a brief moment before sighing. He had never spoken openly about Asher’s involvement during the Monster Tide. He had not wanted to overstep or draw unnecessary attention. But after witnessing this spar, it was clear to him that the Tenth Sun did not particularly care about people knowing the truth.

”He was,” Baron Rivelle finally said. ”He wiped out monsters as though they were nothing. He unleashed devastating attacks that spanned over two hundred meters as though it cost him nothing at all, as if he possessed an endless supply of Astra energy. He went around saving every citizen within my territory without any concern for exhaustion or limits.” He paused, giving them time to truly grasp his words.

Baron Whale, Baron Canestane, and their wives widened their eyes in shock. Even though they had not been there to witness it themselves, they had participated in far too many Monster Tides not to form a vivid image of those events in their minds.

”But that isn’t all,” Baron Rivelle continued, deliberately pausing again. ”He also defeated a Grave Rank monster... the leader of the Monster Tide. A monster I lost against.”

The weight of those words crashed down upon them like a hammer. All eyes snapped toward Baron Rivelle, faces contorting in disbelief.

”Baron Rivelle, are your words truly accurate?” Baron Canestane asked, his voice strained. ”I know you are trying to earn the Tenth Sun’s favor, but isn’t this a bit too exaggerated?”

A Grave Rank monster, Rank Six on the Monster scale. To all of them, it was utterly inconceivable that someone who had awakened barely a year ago could achieve such a feat.

”I wish I were joking,” Baron Rivelle sighed. ”I never spoke of it because of the reaction I knew it would provoke. No one in their right mind would believe that a child who awakened only a year ago could contend with a Rank Six being. But that is exactly what happened. After all, he saved my life.”

Everyone swallowed hard. How many of them present could face a Grave Rank monster and walk away unharmed? Or rather, walk away alive? Almost none of them could claim such confidence with absolute certainty.

At that moment, they all understood something profound. Even among the Wargraves, Asher might be an existence even the Wargraves could not fully comprehend, a being whose talent transcended even the expectations of that monstrous bloodline.

After all, he had awakened barely a year ago. In that single year, he had leaped from being unawakened to becoming a Spark Blazestar Life Ranker. He had crossed four major Life Ranks and seventeen sub-Life Ranks in the span of twelve months.

How many people in history could boast such a feat? Certainly not Azaron, a man who stood at the true peak of Crymora, above even the Crownstar Life Rank. Certainly not the Sinvairas, ancient beings who had lived for thousands of years. Certainly not Malrik, who had only reached the Crownstar Life Rank at the age of thirty.

None of them.

Asher was simply in a class of his own.

A being destined to look down upon it all from whatever path he would carve for himself, once he reached the current peak of the world of Crymora.