Cleaver Of Sin

Chapter 101: Sinvaira

After a while, Wuthenya decided to stop thinking about her elder brother, the one who refused to share his secrets on how he grew so powerful so quickly. Her mind shifted to someone else entirely. Her lover. Her boyfriend.

Yes, Wuthenya Wargrave, the Second Moon, had a boyfriend.

Many across Crymora often misunderstood the traditions of the Wargrave family. Although it was true that none aside from the Primarch were allowed to birth descendants, it didn’t mean that the Suns, Moons, Elders, and Great Elders couldn’t have lovers or those they cared for.

They did not all die virgins. Every one of them had experienced romance, some with more than one partner. As long as none of them bore children, there was no violation of family law.

Right now, Wuthenya was thinking of her boyfriend. She hadn’t seen him nor spoken to him in over three days, ever since Asher’s True Awakening had begun. But now, she was returning to him.

’The moon and weather feel perfect for some late night sex,’ she thought to herself with a mischievous smile curling her lips.

”You seem to be deep in thought, Wuthenya,” the maid who was guiding the Enduron horses spoke, noticing the clear shift in mood reflected on Wuthenya’s face.

This maid had served Wuthenya since birth. She was not just a servant; she was a quiet companion, a constant presence throughout Wuthenya’s life.

”Sigh... I was just thinking about my stupid brothers,” Wuthenya replied, brushing strands of hair away from her face, ”and also... about Mother.”

”Well, from what you’ve told me, the First Sun and Tenth Sun are indeed monsters,” the maid responded, her voice calm and familiar.

”Hoo... Are you saying I’m not on their level in terms of talent?” Wuthenya teased, casting a sideways smirk toward the front of the carriage.

The maid did not hesitate in her reply. ”How could I dare say that? They are the ones beneath you.”

”Perfect answer. You win two platinum coins,” Wuthenya responded, nodding approvingly.

The maid chuckled softly. ”Thank you, my lady.”

She genuinely loved being Wuthenya’s servant. Not only was she treated with more warmth than most noble born mistresses would ever show a maid, but Wuthenya also had a strange habit of rewarding her with platinum coins for what seemed like no reason at all. Just like now, two platinum coins, effortlessly handed away.

What job in the entire world of Crymora could offer better conditions than this?

Simple; None.

Wuthenya and her maid continued their conversation casually, as though they were equals rather than a noble heir and her servant. Their dynamic was unique, almost surreal. The maid always engaged Wuthenya in conversation whenever she noticed her mind wandering toward thoughts of Lily, Wuthenya’s late mother.

She never wanted Wuthenya to be swallowed by a single painful memory.

As the hours passed, time seemed to blur. The Enduron horses pushed forward tirelessly, their hooves pounding against the earth in rhythmic cadence. Wuthenya shared with her maid the full details of Asher’s True Awakening. It wasn’t considered confidential information; there was no reason to hide it.

The maid had already seen Asher herself, completely unharmed, after the True Awakening. Based on that alone, she had concluded that Asher was, in every sense of the word, a monster. Like Malrik, who had only lost a single wrist during his own True Awakening, aside from a few scratches that barely counted as injuries.

Wuthenya’s previously cheerful expression slowly faded into a neutral one. A few moments later, her voice cut through the silence.

”Stop the carriage.”

The maid didn’t ask why. She didn’t hesitate, nor did she speak. She simply pulled the reins and brought the Enduron horses to a halt.

Wuthenya stepped out of the gold plated carriage with graceful poise. Her movements were elegant, deliberate, and silent. Without turning back, she addressed her maid.

”Continue the journey on your own. I’ll meet you there later.”

The maid frowned immediately. She could sense that something was off. Wuthenya’s sudden silence, the abrupt stop, and now this command, it wasn’t hard to deduce that someone, or something, had made a move.

Still, the maid didn’t argue. She understood her limits. She whipped the reins and urged the horses forward with renewed urgency.

She was only a Blazestar rank. Staying near Wuthenya would only make her a burden, a limitation on Wuthenya’s ability to fight at full strength.

Her thoughts now focused on one thing: returning to the Wuthenya’s residence as fast as possible to alert Wuthenya’s boyfriend. Although Wuthenya was undeniably powerful, it was better to have support, just in case.

With that, she drove the horses harder, pushing them to their limits as the carriage raced forward into the distance.

As her maid disappeared from view, Wuthenya turned her gaze toward the dense woods ahead. Her voice was calm, confident, and piercing.

”I know you’re there. Though you’ve hidden yourself perfectly, such tricks are useless against someone like me.”

But her words were met with silence. No movement. Only the whisper of wind as trees and grass danced in the night’s rhythm.

A few seconds passed.

Wuthenya didn’t speak again. She had said enough. There was no need to repeat herself. She simply stood her ground and waited, her eyes sharp and patient.

Then suddenly, from the darkness, a figure emerged.

His steps echoed unnaturally, sounding as though he were walking from every direction at once, an auditory illusion that stirred the senses.

”To think you actually sensed me. I had planned to observe you for a while longer,” the being said as he stepped into the moonlight.

The silver glow illuminated his form.

He emitted no presence, no aura, as though he didn’t exist at all. His body, though humanoid in shape, was unsettling. Stitches crisscrossed every part of his frame, large seams suggesting that his limbs had been sewn together from matched flesh. Despite the grotesque appearance, he wore a calm smile, one that stretched wide as he stared at Wuthenya like she was prey.

Wuthenya’s eyes narrowed. Her instincts flared violently.

Danger.

Every part of her being screamed at her.

Her combat senses told her all she needed to know, her odds of winning had just dropped dramatically. But Wuthenya was no fool. She never charged blindly into battle. She assessed her opponent’s strength and adjusted accordingly.

Right now, her senses screamed one thing: run.

But where could she go?

Besides, she was a Wargrave.

And just because her opponent was stronger didn’t mean she would die without resistance. If she was going to fall, she’d make sure the enemy went down with her.

’An Emovira,’ she thought at first, but quickly dismissed the idea. She had slain countless Emovirae in her lifetime. This one was different. Stronger. Stranger. More... unnatural.

Then her memory jolted.

A name surfaced from the recesses of her thoughts, one she had heard whispered among her family in the deepest discussions.

Sinvaira.