Cleaver Of Sin

Chapter 644: Azaron’s Questions

Everyone’s eyes shifted toward the three Dukes; no one needed to ask, as they could already guess what was happening. With that single revelation from Morthen Wargrave, the entire situation had been flipped on its head, its implications spreading like an unseen ripple through every mind present.

Even the Imperial Cabinet Members had their own thoughts. Although they loved being in positions of power and loved being related to the Imperial Family, at the end of the day, no one, no living soul, be it an ant or a dog, wanted to be mentally manipulated, their autonomy stripped away without their knowledge.

But at the end of the day, they could not simply choose not to side with Emperor Zolthemir Lux Vanthelmor. Just as Morthen had decided to aid Malrik and stand against the Imperial Family without questioning him, acting upon what others might deem reckless actions, that was the same way they, the Imperial Cabinet Members, had to stand with Emperor Zolthemir Lux Vanthelmor, regardless of their personal doubts or fears.

They had to establish their stance at this very moment; then, after everything concluded, when they returned to the Imperial Estate, they would take proper measures to safeguard their minds. For now, however, they needed to present a united front, as any fracture in their unity could prove disastrous in the face of such overwhelming tension.

Azaron’s facial expression did not change when he heard Morthen’s words. He did not doubt the man; he knew how insanely powerful this particular uncle of his was, and he understood that the man was holding back considerably. If his uncle truly wished, he could have already erased the Empire without uttering a single word, based on that accusation alone, such was the terrifying scale of his power.

"What is the source of this information?" Azaron asked in a calm tone. He did not make rash decisions based on a single statement; he was the Primarch, and his actions represented the will and authority of all Wargraves.

Morthen continued to speak with a faint smile. "The information came from the Tenth Sun himself. According to him, after his battle with Ryan Silvershade during the Royal Twin Birthday Party, Emperor Zolthemir Lux Vanthelmor had touched his shoulder to congratulate him. But in that brief moment, the Emperor had attempted to invade his mind," he explained, recalling how Asher had briefed him when they were in the library, his tone steady and calm.

Azaron’s mind could not help but flicker back to that moment. He remembered Emperor Zolthemir Lux Vanthelmor touching Asher’s shoulder; he remembered sensing the slightest fluctuation in Astra energy, in its most subtle form known to beings of their level and control, at the exact instant the Emperor’s hand had made contact with Asher’s shoulder.

He could recall it all perfectly; after all, as a Crownstar Life Ranker, his memory was not something that could be degraded or rendered faulty. But... he had dismissed it at the time. Fluctuations in Astra energy were normal, and such a minimal and subtle disturbance had not been sufficient to raise suspicion... but now... it seemed he had been too naive... no, that was not entirely accurate; he simply had not possessed enough information to properly assess the situation.

And just like the three other Dukes, Azaron himself could not help but overthink. However, unlike them, the Wargraves rarely interacted with the Emperor. He was essentially the only one, along with his wife, who maintained consistent contact with Emperor Zolthemir Lux Vanthelmor... and also Malrik, during the time when Malrik had just been born.

’Is that why Malrik has always been opposing the Emperor in the shadows? Did he know all along?’ Azaron could not help but reason internally, his thoughts beginning to connect pieces that he had previously overlooked.

Although the Wargraves were known as a family that attacked first and asked questions later, it did not mean they were foolish... no, they simply possessed enough power to bypass the need for questioning entirely. Just as the Elders had arrived and immediately engaged in battle without exchanging unnecessary words, their confidence rooted in their overwhelming strength.

’But still... how did the Youngest manage to escape being mentally manipulated by Emperor Zolthemir Lux Vanthelmor? The sheer difference in power should not have allowed that to be possible,’ Azaron reasoned silently. ’Unless that was also part of Emperor Zolthemir Lux Vanthelmor’s plan, if he knew Malrik would immediately retaliate, then he, the Emperor, could counterattack and frame us, the Wargraves, for treason,’ his thoughts churned as he formed a possibility, one that, while plausible, still felt incomplete.

But the next moment, he shook his head slightly. He might be overthinking it. The Emperor Zolthemir Lux Vanthelmor he knew would not reveal his mind manipulation ability so easily, which meant that whatever was currently unfolding was likely not part of his calculated design.

As Azaron Wargrave remained lost in his thoughts, the world itself seemed to still. No one dared to speak; no one even dared to breathe too loudly, not even Emperor Zolthemir Lux Vanthelmor himself, the ruler of the Empire, dared to utter a word at this moment.

They all remained silent and motionless, allowing the calamity known as Azaron Wargrave to think in peace... after all, a single wrong move could cause everything to spiral into blood and chaos.

That was the kind of power Azaron possessed, the kind of power that forced everyone into caution and hesitation, compelling even the most powerful individuals to restrain themselves in his presence.

After a moment of contemplation, Azaron finally asked, "How did the Youngest withstand the mental manipulation?" He needed to know, as the question continued to linger persistently in his mind, refusing to be ignored.

Morthen parted his lips to respond. He did not know how Asher had withstood the Emperor’s mental manipulation, and he was about to admit as much, but before he could speak, Malrik’s figure appeared in a golden-orange blur, cutting through the air with unmistakable presence.

Unlike the Great Elders and Elders, Malrik did not bow or address Azaron as "the Primarch." The man before him was simply his father, and he treated him as such, without formality or pretense.

"Father, that’s because the Youngest’s soul-bound rapier possesses an ability that shields his mind," Malrik stated immediately, without greeting or bowing. "He told me this after his True Awakening, when I asked him a few questions," Malrik added with finality, his tone carrying certainty.

Azaron remained silent for a moment. He did not speak, and no one could discern what he was thinking. No one could even begin to guess, as his facial expression had not shifted in the slightest, as though they were discussing something utterly insignificant and trivial.

"It seems the Youngest is more impressive than I initially thought," Azaron finally spoke, his words flat and simple. If he had been alone, or in the presence of his personal butler, he might have been wearing a wide grin across his face. But alas, he could not afford such an expression at this moment, not with the gravity of the situation unfolding before them, where every decision carried consequences that could reshape the Empire itself.