Cleaver Of Sin

Chapter 444: A Man Or A Rock

His words caused everyone to pause. Even the Barons and the Ladies at the far end of the room came to a standstill. Although they hadn’t exactly been listening in on the conversation, they were all warriors with heightened senses, and Caldor’s words had been spoken clearly enough to reach them regardless. The ambient chatter that once filled the room slowly died down, leaving behind an uneasy stillness.

Even William and Finch fell silent, both of them wondering what Caldor was thinking. After all, even they had never sparred with Asher. They already knew how such a fight would end, and that knowledge alone had been enough to deter them from ever suggesting it.

Yet, despite the tension that followed, nobody made a move to reprimand Caldor. The decision was entirely up to the Tenth Sun. No one here had the authority, or the audacity, to interfere. And so, they all remained quiet, watching and waiting, their gazes subtly shifting toward Asher. Would the fragile relationship they were trying to build with the Tenth Sun crumble because of a single spar? Or would this simply become another moment that revealed the vast difference between him and everyone else present?

Asher stared at Caldor from head to toe, his gaze calm but sharp, assessing every detail. For a moment, he wondered if the boy had become delusional, believing he could defeat him simply because he had experienced a breakthrough.

’No... it’s not that,’ Asher corrected himself internally. ’It’s only a sub-Life Rank breakthrough, not even a major Life Rank advancement.’

As though reading Asher’s thoughts, Caldor spoke up once more, his voice steady and sincere. "It isn’t that I’ve become arrogant and think I can win against you after just a few days of training," he explained. "I simply want to test myself against you. That’s all." His tone carried no provocation, no hidden challenge. He truly didn’t want Asher to misunderstand his intentions.

Asher let out a quiet sigh, his expression remaining unchanged. ’I see,’ he thought to himself.

Truthfully, he wasn’t surprised by Caldor’s behavior. In Crymora, the desire to grow stronger was deeply ingrained in everyone. Strength was respected, pursued, and even worshipped to some extent. Wanting to test oneself against a superior opponent wasn’t foolish, it was expected.

’It’ll be more interesting than standing here drinking and talking,’ his thoughts continued lazily.

"No problem," Asher finally said. "I accept." His words triggered another wave of silence, heavier than the first. Many of them had expected hesitation, or at least some form of refusal. Instead, he had agreed without the slightest pause.

But Asher wasn’t done.

"Don’t expect the kind of spars you have with the Knights of your Barony," he continued evenly. "They hold back because you are their young master. I won’t."

His gaze sharpened slightly as he spoke. "During our spar, you will be injured. While I won’t inflict any permanent or fatal damage, I advise you to bring a healer before we begin."

He spoke as though he were discussing something trivial, as though injuries were nothing more than an inevitable footnote.

Yes, he would spar with Caldor, but he wouldn’t give him the same treatment he had given Rachael. Caldor wasn’t a child, nor was he someone to be coddled. He wasn’t cute, and he certainly wasn’t fragile. If he wanted a real spar, then he would experience real consequences.

Caldor, who had been smiling just moments ago, felt that excitement evaporate the instant Asher finished speaking. The words hit him like a cold splash of water, and for a fleeting moment, it felt as though he had unknowingly stepped into a tiger’s den.

Still, he clenched his fists. Backing out now wasn’t an option. Injuries were normal in spars, expected, even. Pain was one of the most effective teachers, and enduring it was one of the ways warriors tempered both body and mind.

With that thought, Caldor nodded firmly.

"Well... since you’ve decided to spar with him," William spoke up next, a grin forming on his face, "I’ll spar with you too." He had never crossed blades with Asher since they met over a month ago, and the opportunity was simply too tempting to pass up.

Finch let out a sigh from the side, shaking his head slightly. "Since this idiot is joining," he said with a smile, "I suppose I’ll spar with you as well, after you’re done with both of them."

Annabelle remained silent.

Personally, she had no desire to spar with Asher. What would she even gain from it aside from injuries? She wasn’t like Caldor, who had suddenly become obsessed with training and battle. Yes, she wanted to grow stronger too, but not by challenging someone she knew she would unquestionably lose against, especially not a Wargrave.

And yet...

If everyone else was stepping forward and she didn’t, wouldn’t she look like a coward? No one here would mock her, of course. They were friends and family, not enemies. Still, the thought lingered uncomfortably in her mind.

’Is this what they call peer pressure?’ she mused inwardly before finally speaking.

"I suppose I’ll have to be added to the list of your opponents as well," she said with her usual sweet tone. "I hope you don’t discriminate against women."

Asher sighed quietly, genuinely unsure how things had escalated this far. He turned his gaze toward Annabelle, his expression as flat as ever.

"I don’t discriminate," he replied. "The battlefield and the blade don’t care who they kill, only whether you live or die." He paused briefly before continuing, "but if you consciously or subconsciously expect me to pull my punches because you’re a woman," he added calmly, "then I advise you not to spar with me."

Annabelle blinked in surprise, although she hadn’t voiced it, she had expected him to hold back against her at least a little. Instead, she was hearing the exact opposite.

’What did I get myself into...’ she sighed internally, already imagining the injuries she would suffer.

’Besides, is the Tenth Sun a man or a rock?’ she complained inwardly. ’How can he even think of injuring a beautiful woman like me... sigh. What did I expect from a Wargrave?’

Outwardly, however, her expression remained unchanged. "Of course, I never had such a thought," she said smoothly. "As you’ve said, Tenth Sun, the battlefield doesn’t care who it kills, only whether one is alive or dead." it was a lie, but a well-delivered one.

Asher nodded, accepting her words at face value. Then he spoke again.

"I can’t be bothered to spar with all of you one after the other," he said calmly. "So I’ll take on the four of you at once." His voice was as leisurely as ever, as though he were discussing the weather.

No one reacted.

If those words had come from anyone else, they would have been dismissed as sheer arrogance or foolish pride. But this was a Sun. The Tenth Sun. A Wargrave. Normal rules simply didn’t apply.

"I’ll call the healers," Baron Whale said excitedly, eager to witness the Tenth Sun’s abilities firsthand. Of course, he didn’t plan on calling just one healer, but several, just in case...

With that, everyone began to leave the room, heading toward the training chamber. The healers followed closely behind, their expressions already bracing for what was to come.

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AUTHOR’S NOTE: We’re so low on the golden tickets ranking, if you’ve got any golden tickets, then it’s highly appreciated. And if you don’t, you are still highly appreciated. Thanks for reading, Love y’all.