Cleaver Of Sin

Chapter 536: Village Chief

Holding the mission permit scroll in his hand, Asher began to speak, "My name is Asher, I’m from the Star Academy, and I’ve accepted the mission to look into the disappearance of villagers from various villages," he stated with a calm and composed tone as he showed the two guards the mission permit scroll, ensuring that the official insignia and seal were clearly visible to them so that there would be no further misunderstanding regarding his identity or purpose.

The two guards, who were about to begin fighting at full power, stopped the very moment they heard Asher’s words. They knew about the mission; after all, villagers had disappeared, and they had been informed by the Village Chief that someone from the Star Academy might arrive any day in regard to the investigation. The mention of the prestigious institution alone was enough to interrupt the surge of Astra energy that had already begun gathering around their bodies.

The next moment, their presence vanished as they retracted their Astra energy, knowing that Asher was from the Star Academy was enough to command respect and fear from them simultaneously.

"We apologize for attacking you, we hope you can forgive us," they immediately apologized despite Asher being in the wrong for not speaking up earlier. But within the world of Crymora, there was no true right and wrong, only the big fist and the small fist, and right now, they possessed the smaller fist. Strength dictated morality, and power reshaped accountability, and both guards understood that reality far too well.

"Don’t worry about it, I should have spoken up," Asher replied as he shook his head lightly, walking toward the guards with an unhurried and steady pace, his demeanor devoid of arrogance or irritation.

"Please, follow me," one of the guards gestured for Asher to enter the village as he spoke, "the Village Chief has been looking forward to your arrival." Saying that, the guard walked forward without waiting for further acknowledgment. Asher did not hesitate; he simply followed the guard with measured steps.

The second guard remained on duty, returning to stand firmly at the entrance as Asher and the first guard proceeded into the village, the faint echo of their footsteps blending with the distant murmur of village life.

Asher’s eyes darted from one direction to another, carefully absorbing as many details as possible. He could scarcely believe that people were actually living here, as their living conditions seemed too extreme and unforgiving to him. He passed through various buildings, each bearing cracks along their walls as though they might collapse at any moment, some having their roofs partially or entirely removed. Everything appeared dilapidated and weather-beaten to Asher, as though time itself had grown tired of preserving the place.

Children wore clothes that seemed overly worn to the point that they were no different from rags, the fabric thin and faded from years of repeated use. The road had so many potholes that Asher would not dare to ride in a carriage along such a path, as the journey would likely be unbearable and possibly damaging to both rider and vehicle alike.

Yet despite the harsh and fragile condition of the village, everyone walked around with smiles on their faces, and some children ran about without a care in the world, their laughter rising above the quiet groan of aging wood and stone. Asher’s gaze shifted in another direction, and there he saw farmers planting and tilling as they worked tirelessly for their harvest, the sun shining upon them without mercy, its relentless heat bearing down upon their backs as though testing their endurance.

Even here, farmers possessed athletic bodies and physiques that earth’s world class athletes would envy, this being merely a passive state for everyone without the need for specialized training or deliberate cultivation. In Crymora, the very air and Astra within it nurtured the body in subtle ways, granting even commoners a baseline vitality that would seem extraordinary in other worlds.

But all in all, everyone seemed content with their condition, or perhaps it was more accurate to say that they were simply grateful not to be starving, clinging to small joys amidst persistent hardship.

The guard did not speak throughout the journey; he remained silent and dutiful as he led Asher to their destination, his posture upright and his steps firm. Before long, they came to a stop before a building, a wooden board hanging above just below the roof, which read, ’The Village Chief Residence,’ the letters slightly faded yet still legible.

To Asher, this was undoubtedly the best building within the entire village. Although it was far from the residence of a wealthy noble, it bore no visible cracks or warped structures, at least not according to what he could observe on the surface, as he was not a trained architect or engineer capable of identifying deeper structural weaknesses hidden beneath polished appearances.

"This is the Village Chief’s residence, all who are appointed as the Village Chief are required to move into this house," the guard explained after a brief moment of hesitation, as though he felt compelled to clarify the structure’s significance.

"Thank you for your help," Asher said with a slight nod of appreciation, his eyes still lingering on the building as he assessed its exterior.

The guard nodded in return, then turned and walked away without delay or hesitation, perhaps mindful of the earlier confrontation and unwilling to remain longer than necessary. In a world governed by strength, one could never be entirely certain how swiftly fortunes might reverse.

Asher did not move to knock; he remained standing where he was, as he could already hear approaching footsteps accompanied by the faint creaking of wooden floorboards as someone walked upon them. With a drawn-out creak, the door opened, and a man stepped into view. He appeared to be over fifty years of age, his eyes pale white as though devoid of pupils, and he was dressed in a simple black haori that bore no extravagant markings or embellishments.

"Please come in, Asher," the Village Chief stated as he gazed at Asher, his eyes wide open, his presence gentle yet welcoming, carrying an air of quiet ease.

Upon hearing his name spoken so casually, Asher squinted slightly, as he had never told the man his name directly. He had only introduced himself once, and that was to the guards at the gate. ’Did he hear me from there?’ Asher wondered internally, though the thought seemed improbable, as the Village Chief’s Life Rank appeared too low to have enhanced hearing to such an extraordinary degree.

After several moments of contemplation, Asher seemed to piece together a plausible explanation and chose not to dwell on it further. "Thank you," he replied calmly as he stepped inside with composed ease and restrained elegance, his demeanor neither overly cautious nor overly relaxed. The Village Chief shut the door behind him and proceeded to lead Asher through several modest chambers before they came to a stop in another room furnished simply yet neatly.

"Do you need anything? Water? Juice?" he asked politely, acknowledging Asher as his guest. However, Asher shook his head in response, indicating that he required nothing. The Village Chief nodded quietly, then stepped out momentarily before returning with a jug of water for himself, placing it carefully upon a small wooden table.

"Thank you for coming," he began, his tone steady yet sincere, "I had posted the mission, and I expected the Star Academy to take at least half a month or more before one of their representatives reached here. I did not anticipate that your arrival would be so swift." The Village Chief concluded his statement with a thoughtful expression before taking a measured sip of water, his pale eyes remaining fixed upon Asher as though attempting to discern more than what was visible on the surface.