Cleaver Of Sin

Chapter 457: An Affected

Finch felt the immense pressure on his shoulder vanish the very moment the Emovira returned to its seat. He heaved a long sigh of relief. After all, he had been in genuine danger only a few seconds ago. If the Emovira had decided to attack, Finch could not think of any method for his Good Luck ability to save him, other than collapsing the entire cavern itself, a desperate option that would have proven utterly useless against a Rank 5 being.

What could mere stones and crumbling rock possibly do against something like that?

With trembling muscles and legs that still felt weak, Finch staggered to his feet. His clothes clung faintly to his body, damp with cold sweat. He did not speak. He simply stared at the Emovira before him, his breathing shallow and controlled. As someone who had heard countless stories about Positive Emovirae, he had expected something docile, something welcoming, something gentle, perhaps even something... cute. He had not expected to be forced to one knee the very moment he came face to face with one.

Yet, at the same time, it made sense.

The Emovira was clearly injured, and its wounds were not healing. Any being in such a condition would be on edge, driven by instinct to protect itself. It was understandable. After all, the first thing it had asked him was whether he had come to kill it too.

"You may return now, human."

The Rank 5 Emovira’s voice broke Finch out of his thoughts. The words were calm, but carried an authority that made his spine stiffen instinctively. Still, Finch did not move. He had come this far. He had survived the initial encounter. Turning around and leaving now felt... wrong. If he had lived through the danger once, then perhaps it was worth staying just a little longer.

The Emovira noticed his hesitation immediately. Seeing that Finch made no effort to leave, it arched an eyebrow slightly, its gaze sharpening as it studied him more closely.

"It seems you want something, human," it said slowly. "That is also why you defied my orders when I told you to go back. What is it?" The Emovira was no fool. It could read Finch far more clearly than he expected.

Finch parted his lips, then hesitated. When he finally spoke, his voice was flat and uncertain.

"I don’t know..."

The Emovira stared at him, visibly confused. It could not comprehend the human before it, someone who clearly wanted something, yet did not even know what that something was. Any trace of hostility faded from its posture. Finch was simply too weak, and he possessed no intent to fight. Slowly, the Emovira relaxed, watching him with curiosity rather than suspicion.

After a brief silence, Finch’s eyes drifted to the wounds tearing across the Emovira’s body. "How did you get your injuries?" he asked quietly.

"Why do you ask?" the Emovira replied, its expression unchanged.

"Well..." Finch hesitated before continuing. "You’re a Rank 5 being. I can’t really imagine anything within this forest injuring you."

Ever since his awakening, Finch had been wandering through this forest. He had encountered dangers, yes, but nothing that could threaten a being of such caliber.

No, perhaps that was incorrect.

’Powerful Emovirae might have been here for a long time,’ he realized suddenly, ’and I simply never stumbled upon it because of my Good Luck ability.’

The Emovira released a faint sigh. "While I was walking through the forest, I came across an affected," it began.

Before it could continue, Finch interrupted instinctively.

"An affected?" he asked, confusion evident in his voice.

The Emovira paused, then seemed to understand his lack of knowledge. "An affected," it explained calmly, "is what my kind calls those who have been completely swallowed by emotions. Humans refer to them as Negative Emovirae, but we, the Positive Emovirae, call them the affected."

Finch nodded slowly, absorbing the explanation without another word, signaling for the Emovira to continue.

"It was obvious we fought the moment we laid eyes on each other," the Emovira continued. There was a hint of pride in its voice. "Of course, I won, and I did so without sustaining any injuries."

It paused briefly, then went on.

"However, a group of humans was nearby. Adventurers, as you call them. They heard and sensed the battle between me and the affected. When they arrived, the first thing they attempted to do was tame me."

Its gaze sharpened slightly. "When I refused, they attacked immediately. Even if I am strong, I cannot possibly win against six individuals of the same rank as I." It ended its explanation with an air of finality.

Finch found himself speechless. He could almost see the scene unfolding before his eyes. People always tried to tame Positive Emovirae the moment they encountered one. However, a highly intelligent being, especially a Rank 5, would never agree to such a thing.

He could picture it clearly: the adventurers attacking the instant they were rejected. After all, why leave behind something you desire but cannot claim, only to risk someone else acquiring it and using it against you?

"Aren’t you angry at humans?" Finch asked after a moment, his voice cautious.

"Huh?" The Emovira sounded genuinely surprised. "Why would I be? It’s simply the law of the jungle," it continued calmly. "I couldn’t win, so I escaped, though not without giving them life-threatening injuries of their own. Besides, if I meet any of them again, I will simply kill them."

There was no anger in its tone. No resentment. No hatred. Nothing at all.

To the Emovira, harboring rage toward every enemy it encountered would be pointless. If it spent its life consumed by anger, it would eventually become an affected itself, attacking everything on sight.

"Then why aren’t your injuries healing?" Finch asked. His brow furrowed slightly. "As a Rank 5 Emovira, your regeneration should be far faster than this."

"I was struck by one of their abilities," the Emovira replied plainly. "Her power prevents natural regeneration."

Finch frowned deeply.

"But injuries of this level are dangerous," he said, concern slipping into his voice. "Even for you."

"It is dangerous," the Emovira agreed. "I have endured it for quite a while already. If nothing changes, I will be dead in two days." The words were spoken casually, as if it were discussing the weather.

Finch froze.

Shock rippled through his body and mind like an explosion. He had never met anyone, human or otherwise, who spoke of death so lightly. Yet the Emovira appeared entirely unbothered by its own approaching end, as though it were merely an inevitable conclusion rather than something to be feared.