Cleaver Of Sin

Chapter 996: Weapons

Azaron stared at Threshold I, who simply stared back at him, both of them feeling pure thrill at each other’s combat experience and power. The time for hand-to-hand combat had ended; it was time to take this battle up a notch. With a thought from Azaron, his soul-bound, blood-red spear, Ender, appeared in his hand.

Ender hummed as it seemed to tremble with drunken happiness at finally being called into the battlefield, its crimson surface gleaming ominously as though it too had been waiting for this moment.

Seeing this, Threshold I smirked as, the next moment, a pair of clawed gauntlets appeared from her space ring and settled into her hands as she put them on.

Neither of them took their eyes off each other, black pupils meeting golden ones. The moment they were done calling upon their weapons, they moved, their speed rising to a whole new scale as they both began at the peak level of their physical strength and speed; there was no more holding back when it came to their physical attributes.

The moment they closed the distance between each other midair, Azaron thrust Ender forward with armageddon-like force, as though he wanted to destroy the whole world. Seeing the incoming attack, Threshold I didn’t take a single step back; instead, she met it head-on.

Her clawed hand streaked forward as though it were a star as she met Ender’s sharp tip with nothing but her palm. The moment both sides met, a ruinous catastrophe of madness erupted outwards, as everything within a million-kilometer radius was warped out of existence. The earth below tore apart as though these two wanted to pull Crymora’s core from its depths.

Dust consumed the entire landscape; shockwaves, blast waves, earthquakes, and sound waves all ran rampant as the air collapsed into itself before detonating outwards, sending devastation across the already battered surroundings.

Yet, neither of them took a step back. They stared into each other’s eyes like lovers who simply couldn’t get over their toxic relationship, their expressions carrying nothing but an intense and almost unreasonable desire to continue fighting.

There was a trace of surprise in Azaron’s eyes. He had gone all out in that physical attack, and Threshold I had taken it with her own physique and nothing more. Till today, Azazel remained the only person who had been able to accomplish such a feat, but that was before Azaron climbed to the Crownstar Life Rank. But now, Threshold I, leader of The Convergence organization, had done it.

When the Thresholds had said that Threshold I, Threshold II, and Threshold III could match Azaron, they weren’t exaggerating in the slightest. Those three were simply monstrous geniuses in their own right, possessing physical prowess that could stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the most terrifying beings in Crymora.

The trace of surprise vanished immediately from Azaron’s eyes. If someone could match him in life-or-death combat, then that was better; that way, he could improve during battle and after battle with someone capable of pushing him to his limits.

Threshold I caught the surprise in Azaron’s eyes. She understood his surprise, after all, with the Wargraves’ Physique, the stronger they became and the further they progressed in Life Rank, the greater the difference in sheer physical strength and Astra energy between them and people of the same rank, which was why they had always been able to take on people above their own sub-Life Rank, or even cross an entire Life Rank if they were already at the Radiant sub-Life Rank.

With that, they both vanished from their positions, unbothered by the state of the world. Their bodies blinked in and out of positions as though they had exceeded the speed of light. The sound of weapons colliding continued endlessly as neither of them stopped for any reason, their battle becoming a blur of sheer speed and destructive force.

There was simply no opening in their movements. Their attacks were as flawless as they could be, but since there were no openings, they created one for themselves; yet, the moment one created an opening, the other sensed it and immediately closed it.

Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!

The sound of spear and clawed gauntlet meeting rang out endlessly as space itself trembled, the air collapsing in totality around them as it couldn’t afford to be the medium for such heavy sounds to travel.

Their movements had become a rhythm at this point. They reacted to each other’s movements; they didn’t plan, they didn’t think, they didn’t anticipate, they simply reacted, their reflexes and senses responding to everything with sheer, unbelievable speed.

Azaron’s spear moved like a snake as he thrust at Threshold I’s chest, but she simply maneuvered around the attack in a burst of motion as she closed the distance between herself and Azaron, her claw gleaming for his sternum. Azaron’s reaction was faster than thought, sound, and a blink. His fingers moved, his wrist flickering as Ender rotated dexterously in his hands before he brought it down in the opposite direction.

Seeing the attack close in from behind, Threshold I immediately abandoned her attack as she dodged to the side with swift ease, Ender’s shaft swooshing past where her body should have been.

But she didn’t abandon her attack completely, as the moment she dodged, she appeared at Azaron’s side, her claw still in motion as she appeared at his rib cage this time. Azaron’s senses screamed, his right leg shooting off the ground like a beam of light as he immediately used his knee to stop Threshold I’s attack by her wrist.

But Threshold I was simply too flexible and smooth. The moment Azaron’s knee hit her wrist, she changed her attack in continuous motion, as though she had foreseen this particular moment. With the right hand that Azaron had stopped with his knee, the hand moved as she immediately clamped down on his knee, using it to hoist herself up as she rotated midair like an acrobat across Azaron’s head.

But she didn’t just rotate. The moment she moved, her left hand moved as her clawed gauntlet tore through Azaron’s shoulder with sickening ease, flesh parting like a hot knife through butter. Blood splattered into the air as Threshold I completed her motion, her figure continuing to rotate as she landed a couple of meters away from Azaron.

She had drawn blood.

Although she had drawn second blood, she had dealt a deep injury, as a huge clawed gash mark could be seen on Azaron’s shoulder, blood trailing down from it as it stained his cloth. Azaron didn’t stop to admire his injuries. Yes, he wanted to get injured, but that never meant he would purposely create an opening for one or break the rhythm of his battle to bask in the sensation of an injury he hadn’t expected in over a century. The pain only served as another reminder that he had finally found someone capable of pushing him this far.

The moment Threshold I’s feet touched the ground, Azaron was already there, his entire senses heightened. Without missing a beat, he thrust out a million times within the span of a heartbeat.

The air itself at the point of contact seemed to compress, then, from the compression, thrusting wind attacks erupted outwards in succession, each one aiming for Threshold I’s body.

Seeing the incoming attack and the sheer weight behind it, Threshold I immediately reacted, her hands opening as they spread far apart while she traced a circle midair from opposite directions. The moment she did, what seemed like a huge, solid barrier of air appeared before her.

With the force of a behemoth, Azaron’s attacks slammed into it. Concussive blast rings of wind waves and cyclones erupted upon everything within another staggering million-kilometer range. Threshold I’s hands trembled as she resisted, but Azaron wasn’t done.

He had unleashed that one million thrusts at the same time, meaning the attacks that Threshold I was blocking were something he was already done with, so while she blocked his former attack, he was already onto the next.

His body flickered into existence as Ender spun across his shoulders and, with the force of a madman, he slashed at her neck as though he wanted to decapitate her once and for all and end the battle here.

The sensation of death washed over Threshold I’s body and soul. She hadn’t expected the attack. Time seemed to slow in her perception, as though the world was simply granting her more time to make a decision. She was already blocking Azaron’s first attack; how could she block a second one aimed at her neck?

Time seemed to snap back into place in her senses as she immediately made a split-second decision.

One hand left the air barrier she had created as she immediately raised her forearm before her neck for a block.