Cleaver Of Sin

Chapter 639: Neutralized

Malrik floated with an indifferent gaze; although these two had lived for centuries, it did not mean their power, talent, and experience rivaled his. He was a monster, a genius of the highest echelon, a being who stood on his own plane of power, far beyond what they could hope to comprehend.

The Commander and Vice Commander stared at Malrik with burning gazes, their bodies brimming with energy, crackling red lightning, and raging blue flames that surged and twisted around them with destructive intensity.

The Commander spat to the side, the color of his saliva red as it was mixed with blood. "Brat," he stated coldly.

Although they had been injured, the ridiculous armors they wore had tanked most of the attacks, thereby minimizing every injury they sustained. Beyond that, their armor seemed to possess regenerative properties, subtly enhancing their natural healing and restoring their damaged bodies at a steady pace.

Malrik slowly descended, his foot touching the ground as he faced the two of them. With a slight shake of his head, he sheathed his blade as he spoke in the most disrespectful tone possible, "Although you two are elders and old fossils, you are not worth facing my katana." He sheathed his blade with the effortless grace of a Swordmaster the moment those words left his lips.

He entered a martial stance as he continued, "Come, I have better things and stronger enemies waiting," he stated flatly, his voice devoid of any emotion.

"I will be taking that sharp tongue of yours," the Vice Commander spoke, his voice icy and laced with killing intent. The next moment, his body brightened as his red lightning crackled with even more potent energy and power, his entire form glowing with an intensified crimson radiance.

But before he could even take a single step, Malrik appeared before them as though he had no intention of waiting for the man to finish charging up. With his foot coated in Solar Energy, his forefoot slammed into the Vice Commander’s jaw with explosive, combustive force.

A titanic shockwave erupted outward at the point of impact, and the sheer momentum of the attack hurled the Vice Commander backward. His helmet did almost nothing to mitigate the devastating force as his body slammed violently into a mountain, causing him to vomit a liter of blood, his teeth tearing free from his gums. He crashed through one mountain, then another, and yet another, before finally coming to a halt.

Malrik ignored the Commander entirely, his body flickering like a phantom as he appeared before the Vice Commander, who had been embedded into a mountainside. Before the Commander could even react, Malrik’s golden-orange fists blurred, reality itself seeming to distort into a smeared haze as though he possessed countless fists striking all at once.

Left hook punches crashed ceaselessly into the Vice Commander’s face within the span of a split second, and without pause, he transitioned seamlessly into another sequence, unleashing a barrage of right hook punches that hammered into the opposite side of his face. But before the Vice Commander could even draw a breath, Malrik unleashed a another series of body hooks, his fists slamming mercilessly into the man’s liver over and over again.

A shovel hook followed next, striking from multiple angles at once, Malrik’s fist crashing into the man’s chin with unending force and impact, each blow carrying the same devastating weight as the last.

The Vice Commander could not keep up; his Crownstar Life Ranker perception failed him, his Crownstar Life Ranker physique failed him, his tenacious body, his endurance for pain, his senses, and even his mind, all of it was thrown into complete disarray as Malrik unleashed a storm of infinite punches. The Imperial Armor was rendered utterly useless; the helmet, the breastplate, the chainmail, everything was torn apart by Malrik’s bare hands as though they were nothing more than fragile glass.

The next moment, Malrik stopped. The Vice Commander remained standing motionless, like a corpse that had yet to fall, his body utterly battered and drenched in crimson blood. His skin was a grotesque mixture of brown, purple, and black, discolored from the sheer extent of his injuries. Malrik stared at him for a brief moment before turning away. The instant he turned his back and took a step forward, the Vice Commander’s body collapsed face-first onto the ground with a heavy thud, a faint cloud of dust rising into the air.

Malrik’s eyes locked onto the Commander, who stared at him with undisguised disbelief. The man before him was merely thirty-one years of age; he should not have been this powerful, it should not have been possible. He and the Vice Commander should have been the ones dominating this battle, not the other way around. It was something that defied all logic... after all, they had lived since the era of the Wargrave’s previous Primarch.

Yet despite everything, his will burned fiercely within him, his determination hardening like tempered steel. He was the blade of the Empire, the shield of the Emperor, he would fulfill his duty no matter the cost. His body burned hotter as his blue flames intensified, melting the ground beneath them into molten lava. In a blur, he closed the distance between himself and Malrik, his broadsword descending with apocalyptic intensity and unrestrained madness.

Seeing the incoming strike aimed at his head, Malrik remained completely unbothered. He simply watched it approach, then his hand moved, his palm opening, and with insulting ease, he caught the Commander’s broadsword with a single hand. The burning blue flames raged violently, an incinerating inferno that scorched the very air, yet it made no difference to Malrik; he possessed Solar Energy itself.

The Commander’s eyes widened in absolute shock. He had not held anything back, he had raised the temperature of his flames to their absolute limit, to the highest degree he could possibly achieve. Even the surrounding air and atmosphere had begun to burn under the intensity, and yet this man, this child, had stopped his full-powered strike with a single hand, without the slightest indication of strain.

"You should simply blame your Emperor; after all, everyone knows I hate it when people lay their hands on my siblings," Malrik stated calmly, his tone flat and utterly devoid of emotion.

Before the Commander could even respond, he felt a fist slam into his breastplate. A concussive burst of force erupted outward from his back, that single punch alone knocking the breath from his lungs as his internal organs trembled on the verge of collapse.

Then, without missing a beat, Malrik’s elbow came crashing down with potent ferocity, and like a sledgehammer striking an egg, the blow shattered against the Commander’s temple. His head split open, his body twisting violently as it was launched away, tearing through everything in its path as he was sent flying for over a hundred kilometers before finally coming to a stop.

The Commander and Vice Commander had been neutralized with insulting and child-like ease.

Malrik did not even spare them a glance. With a single step, he vanished, reappearing before the barrier that encased the Imperial Palace. With a mere thought, he activated his Light movement skill, Light Displacement, which instantly transferred him into one of the light rays within the barrier itself, bypassing its restrictions entirely. And with that, he walked forward toward the Palace once more, as though he owned the goddamn place.

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AUTHOR’S NOTE: 10 Chapters done, I’ll need gifts for this peak... super gifts, maybe... please, I’m on my knees. Tired and done for the day, love y’all, bye.