Cleaver Of Sin

Chapter 645: Proud

Azaron raised a hand ever so slowly, his motion calm, yet with just that single, deliberate movement, all the Imperial Cabinet Members, the three Dukes, and the Imperial Knights shot backward in fear. Their bodies turned into streaks of blurred motion as each of them crossed tens of kilometers in the span of a split second, their Astra energy surging violently through their Astra veins as they prepared to defend and block whatever attack Azaron was about to unleash upon the Empire, their instincts screaming at them to survive.

But the moment they raised their defenses, the attack they expected never came. There was no destruction, there was no explosion, there was simply nothing at all, as Azaron had merely raised his hand because he wished to, not because he intended to strike. If he truly wanted to attack them, they would not have seen it coming, nor would they have had the opportunity to react in the slightest.

Azaron’s raised hand descended and landed on Malrik’s shoulder as he spoke in a calm, fatherly tone. "Although you go around causing problems and trouble, this time, I’m proud of you, Malrik," he stated. Yet even as those words left his lips, there was no smile, no visible emotion, nothing at all altered his stone-faced expression, but one could sense the subtle shift in his tone when he spoke, a faint trace of approval buried beneath his otherwise indifferent demeanor.

Malrik’s boiling anger receded for a moment at his father’s words, his expression softening as he allowed himself a small, genuine smile. Unlike other Wargraves, Malrik was not one to conceal his emotions, a trait born from his own unique upbringing and personal disposition, one that set him apart even within his own monstrous family.

"But, although I’m proud of you, and you also probably want the Emperor’s head due to your obsession with your siblings’ safety," Azaron continued, his voice steady and calm, "leave this particular matter to your father. After all, you’ve been working too hard lately," he concluded, his tone final, leaving no room for argument or resistance.

Without another word or even a glance at Malrik or the Elders, Azaron turned away, his golden eyes shifting toward the position where the Emperor stood. At that moment, numerous Knights had already surrounded him, each one a Crownstar Life Ranker, their presence alone enough to deter most threats, yet against Azaron, they appeared insignificant.

Malrik could not disobey Azaron. Although he desired nothing more than to fight the Emperor himself, he knew he would have to take a backseat this time. The Primarch had spoken, and that alone was enough to end any defiance, even from someone like him.

Azaron began to walk forward, his movements calm and unhurried, yet with each step he took, the ground trembled faintly beneath him. The nebula in the sky remained, churning like a living tide of natural gases, light, and void, as though it were awaiting a command, ready to erupt and consume the planet itself at Azaron’s will, should he so choose.

Azaron paid no mind to the Crownstar Life Rankers who surrounded Emperor Zolthemir Lux Vanthelmor. To him, they were no different from ordinary, unawakened individuals, their power meaningless in his presence. It would take nothing more than a single casual attack from him to erase them from existence, their lives snuffed out without resistance.

He came to a stop a kilometer away from the Imperial Palace, where the Emperor stood. His golden-colored eyes met the Emperor’s black-colored ones, and for a moment, neither of them spoke, as though their silence carried more weight than any spoken words ever could, the air between them thick with tension and unspoken understanding.

The silence shattered as Azaron finally spoke. "I’ve heard my family’s side of the story. Now it’s your turn to speak, Zolthemir Lux Vanthelmor," his words were brisk, flat, and carried a subtle, dangerous undertone that left no doubt as to the gravity of the situation.

Hearing Azaron’s words, Emperor Zolthemir Lux Vanthelmor could not help but frown slightly. In the past, whenever he and Azaron spoke, Azaron had always addressed him as "the Emperor" or "Emperor Zolthemir Lux Vanthelmor," ensuring that the proper Imperial title was used. But now, the man had simply called him by his name, making it abundantly clear that, at this very moment, Azaron did not give two fucks about Imperial titles or formalities.

Zolthemir Lux Vanthelmor heard Azaron’s words clearly. Although Azaron had spoken of hearing his side of the story, Zolthemir knew that even if he denied the claims, no one would believe him. Azaron had no reason to believe him over his own sons and his uncle, Great Elder Morthen.

Besides, even if he denied it, the damage had already been done. The truth, whether real or perceived, had already spread. The cat was out of the bag, and no one would believe his denial. The Dukes would take precautions, the Cabinet Members would take precautions, and the Knights would do the same. There was simply nothing to gain from lying at this point.

"Why ask me questions or wait for my side of the story when you’ve already come to a conclusion, Azaron Wargrave?" Emperor Zolthemir Lux Vanthelmor stated calmly, his demeanor composed and controlled despite the tension surrounding him.

"Is that so..." Azaron replied, his voice neutral as he maintained eye contact with the Emperor.

Although the Emperor did not bother denying the accusation, knowing full well that no one would believe him, he was not foolish enough to admit it either. There was a clear difference between admitting to something and allowing others to believe it without confirmation from the accused.

Emperor Zolthemir Lux Vanthelmor’s mind raced at full speed. Should he seize this opportunity to eliminate the Wargrave family? It seemed like the perfect moment. Although the Wargraves were known as a family of monsters, and from what he had witnessed, the Wargrave Elders had toyed with the Imperial Cabinet Members, while Malrik had played around with the Imperial Army Commander, and the Vice Commander.

But the Imperial family was not so weak, if they were, the Wargraves would have wiped them out long ago. He considered calling "them" into action. As the Emperor, he had the authority, and "they" would obey. With their intervention, they could potentially eliminate the Wargraves. Moreover, the Wargraves had invaded the capital city, which meant the Imperial Family had the justification to act as they saw fit, even branding the Wargraves as traitors.

But what was the use of branding the Wargraves as traitors? Who would stand against them? Certainly not the commoners, and certainly not the Dukes. Only "they" possessed the capability to challenge such monsters.

Even so, he knew it would not be an easy battle. His black eyes shifted toward the three Dukes floating in the sky, silently observing. Emperor Zolthemir Lux Vanthelmor was not naive; if he made a move against the Wargraves and emerged victorious, he knew those three would seize the opportunity to strike and eliminate the Imperial Family while they were weakened. No rational individual would waste such a chance.

And even if the three Dukes refrained from acting, the other Empires would not hesitate to take advantage of the situation and launch their own assaults.

He could not help but sigh internally. There were simply too many players on the board in this game of chess. He could not eliminate the Wargraves without suffering catastrophic consequences from the Dukes and the surrounding Empires.

And there was also the matter of the Sinvairas, the most dangerous and mysterious of them all. For all anyone knew, they could already be watching at this very moment, waiting patiently for the perfect opportunity to strike and bring an end to the entire Zarethorn Empire in a single, devastating move.

Emperor Zolthemir Lux Vanthelmor could not allow that to happen. He could not allow the legacy of his family to be erased during his reign. He could not afford to go down in history as the worst Emperor the Zarethorn Empire had ever seen.