Cleaver Of Sin

Chapter 651: Favor-1

Azaron’s golden-colored eyes met Emperor Cyrvexis Lux Vanthelmor’s calm red ones, and a silence seemed to pass between them for a moment as none of them spoke, the atmosphere thick with restrained intent and unspoken understanding. But a voice broke through the silence; it was Emperor Zolthemir Lux Vanthelmor who spoke, his interruption cutting across the stillness with quiet fragility.

"Father," his voice was weak as he leaned against the tree, his body bearing the marks of battle and exhaustion, his breathing uneven, yet his eyes remained calm, as though he had always expected his father to come, as though this moment had long been foreseen in his mind.

"And why should I stop, Emperor Cyrvexis Lux Vanthelmor?" Azaron asked calmly, Ender still in his hand and placed against Zolthemir Lux Vanthelmor’s neck, the weapon steady and ready, "I wouldn’t mind helping you join your son, you know," he added, his tone flat and brisk, devoid of emotion, but neither Emperor Zolthemir Lux Vanthelmor nor Emperor Cyrvexis Lux Vanthelmor dared to think Azaron was joking; everyone knew he was a man of few words, and those few words of his were often laden with terrifying certainty and consequence.

Emperor Cyrvexis Lux Vanthelmor stayed silent for a moment, his gaze steady and contemplative, then sighed, a long breath escaping him, "This is why I hate children and never had one until I was very old," he mumbled under his breath, though his words were heard clearly by both Azaron and Emperor Zolthemir Lux Vanthelmor, carrying a tone of weary resignation.

As Emperor Cyrvexis Lux Vanthelmor had said, he never had children during his prime years or youthful age; no, he ruled over the Zarethorn Empire for centuries without producing a single heir, simply because he could not be bothered with the complications and responsibilities that came with children.

It was only after he had aged that he decided to have a child, the current Emperor, and even then, after he gave birth to one child, he was immediately done with attempting to have another, unlike Azaron and Lily Of The Abyss, who gave birth to ten children as though they were rabbits rather than humans, their lineage expanding at an almost absurd rate.

"I’m not here to fight you, Primarch Azaron Wargrave," Emperor Cyrvexis Lux Vanthelmor spoke again, his voice composed and measured, "just as you are willing to go to war against the Royal Imperial family for your son, that is also how I am willing to fight for my own son, but again, I am not here to fight you, only here to reason," he stated with a wisdom-filled tone as he stroked his long white beard, his demeanor reflecting centuries of experience.

"Emperor Cyrvexis Lux Vanthelmor," Azaron began to speak, his voice as flat as ever, "the only reason I am not attacking you immediately is because of the respect I have for you; give me a reason why I should spare your son," Azaron stated, his voice devoid of anger yet heavy with intent.

As he had said, Emperor Cyrvexis Lux Vanthelmor was a man he deeply respected, one of the individuals he had looked up to in his youth, which was precisely why he had not attacked on sight, restraining himself despite his nature.

"As you know, this has not escalated into a True War between both families yet, as we have not deployed our real forces; why don’t we end this here and not make this any bigger than it has to be?" Emperor Cyrvexis Lux Vanthelmor suggested, as he had no desire to engage in battle at all, preferring instead the quiet of his chambers, training or resting in peace after centuries of rule.

But the moment those words left his lips, all that filled his vision was a right kick that tore through the fabric of space-time as it streaked toward his head with lethal force and overwhelming power, distorting the very air around it.

Azaron had attacked without hesitation or delay; he had asked for a reason, but it seemed the old man intended only to talk, and he, Azaron, was not one to indulge in unnecessary conversation.

Seeing the incoming attack, Emperor Cyrvexis Lux Vanthelmor remained completely unbothered; he simply raised a single finger, the index, and with calm, effortless ease, he stopped Azaron’s attack dead in its tracks, as though it were nothing more than a child’s strike. The wind did not scream nor explode outward, as Emperor Cyrvexis Lux Vanthelmor had employed his Bloodline ability to absorb the energy behind the attack with precise control.

Azaron, who seemed to have anticipated this outcome, transitioned seamlessly into his next attack, his movements fluid and calculated; his body turned as his right leg met the ground, his waist twisting as his left leg left the earth, unleashing another kick toward Emperor Cyrvexis Lux Vanthelmor’s chest with the heel of his foot, the motion carrying destructive force.

Emperor Cyrvexis Lux Vanthelmor took a step back with minimal effort, his white robe fluttering in the wind as he dodged with the grace of a man who had lived through centuries of battle and governance. Space fractured and shattered under the force of Azaron’s kick as the attack missed, leaving distortions in its wake.

"Sigh, you Wargraves only know how to fight; even your father was a pain in the ass sometimes," Emperor Cyrvexis Lux Vanthelmor commented as he vanished from where he stood, his body reappearing a kilometre away, his sagely demeanor unchanged.

’It seems I need to use it, or this boy might truly fight... sigh,’ Emperor Cyrvexis Lux Vanthelmor thought to himself as he shook his head slightly, a trace of reluctance in his thoughts.

"Primarch Azaron Wargrave, you asked for a reason why you should stop," Emperor Cyrvexis Lux Vanthelmor began again from his new position, his voice carrying clearly across the distance, "but I suppose I have none to give you, so I will be using the favor you owe me," he stated calmly, though there was a faint strain in his tone.

The reason he felt pained was simple, he did not want to use the favor Azaron owed him.

It had to be understood that Azaron was a Primarch, a monster among monsters, a man who had already surpassed his own father, a being so powerful that three Sinvairas had to join forces to face him; such a man owing you a favor was no different from possessing an additional life.

Although Emperor Cyrvexis Lux Vanthelmor did not yet know what he would ultimately use the favor for, it had at least served as a form of insurance against any unforeseen danger, and now, he was forced to expend it in exchange for the life of his foolish son.

So yes, he was pained, for this favor was something that anyone would kill for, and yet he had managed to make Azaron indebted to him by doing something that, to him, had been no more difficult than breathing.

’I suppose that is that,’ he thought to himself, his eyes shifting toward his son, who was still seated on the ground, leaning against a tree, ’you had better be ready to receive a beating when we return,’ he concluded inwardly, for his son would undoubtedly have to pay the price for wasting such a monumental favor.