Cleaver Of Sin

Chapter 109: Halo [Ko-Fi Bonus Chapter]

As the question echoed through his mind, the threads within his body surged forth with unrestrained vigor. The severed arm lying on the ground twitched, then moved in an instant, black threads bursting from its surface, latching onto the strands that still hovered at the stump where it had once belonged.

In a seamless motion, the arm reattached. The gash that marred his face disappeared as his skin regenerated, the obsidian threads weaving themselves into the wound and sealing it shut with flawless precision.

’He’s using the morning sun’s rays as anchors for movement.’

The realization struck Orvak like lightning. Without hesitation, his scythe swung toward the single ray of sunlight touching his body. Just as he moved, the crescent edge of his blade clashed against an oncoming katana, steel meeting steel in a flash of power and precision.

But Malrik only smiled. Behind him, a small sphere of golden-crimson light flickered into existence. Then, without warning, it began to swell, rapidly expanding as though drawing in the fury of the sun itself.

Orvak didn’t need an explanation; his instincts screamed. He retreated without hesitation. Yet the moment he moved, Malrik pursued, his speed fluid and graceful, effortlessly matching Orvak’s every step.

Now fully formed, the golden-crimson sphere loomed immense, radiating blistering heat that warped the air around them. The ground beneath trembled, scorched by the waves of searing energy washing over the battlefield.

Malrik’s grin widened. His lips parted, and with quiet finality, he spoke a single word:

Blaze

The world seemed to convulse.

In that instant, a cataclysm of golden-crimson energy erupted in all directions, merciless and unrestrained. It surged outward like an unforgiving tide, indifferent to friend or foe, a roaring tempest that threatened to erase all within its reach.

Sensing the impending onslaught, Orvak shifted into a defensive stance.

Shield of Carnage

With a thunderous surge, black energy erupted outward in a violent wave. A colossal dome of pulsating darkness shimmered into existence, encasing his entire form within its sinister embrace.

And then — it struck.

Crimson collided with black, and the world was plunged into chaos.

The earth groaned before it fractured, then shattered, until it liquefied into molten lava under the unbearable heat. The very air shrieked as though it were being ripped from existence, stripped away by the overwhelming force.

Even space itself trembled. Cracks tore through the fabric of reality, spiraling outward in a frenzy, only to frantically weave themselves shut before collapse could take hold.

A storm of dust, smoke, and burning fumes erupted skyward, an apocalyptic column surging over a thousand meters into the air, as if reaching for the heavens in a cry of devastation.

Through the thick haze of smoke and ash, a lone figure emerged, calm, composed, and smiling.

Malrik Wargrave.

His smile wasn’t born of arrogance but of exhilaration. It had been far too long since he had released an attack befitting his true strength.

Most of his battles were spent dismantling low-level beasts and stray Emovirae, unworthy prey, far beneath his caliber. Worthy opponents were rare. And even when they appeared, one strike was often all it took to bring them to ruin.

But this... this was different.

A battle that stirred his blood.

Lifting his eyes to the rising sun, he let a quiet chuckle escape, the warmth of the light dancing across his features. Then his gaze shifted forward, piercing through the swirling dust, eager to see if anything remained of his adversary.

And then, two glowing red eyes pierced the haze.

Orvak.

He stepped forward, untouched, his body unmarred by the devastation. The Shield of Carnage had held. Not a scratch had breached its defense.

All around them, the land had been erased. For thousands of kilometers, the terrain was reduced to smoldering ruin, flattened, melted, annihilated.

They stood alone amidst the wasteland.

Two titans.

Two cataclysms in human form.

Each one capable of leveling empires with a single breath, a single strike.

”HAHAHAHA!”

Orvak’s laughter echoed across the ruined expanse, cutting through the choking haze like a blade.

”To think you, Malrik Wargrave, could unleash such devastation... I’m genuinely impressed. But now, allow me to show you mine.”

He grinned, eyes gleaming with feral excitement.

In a single fluid motion, he dropped into a stance, his scythe raised high behind him, as if prepared to sever the heavens themselves.

The very air around him began to tremble.

Astra energy surged wildly, spiraling toward him in a maddening vortex, as though the world itself were collapsing into a singularity centered on his being.

His black, destructive energy howled, chaotic, unstable, divine in its fury, as it wove itself with the swirling Astra.

[Pinnacle Technique: Reality Cleave]

With a roar of unleashed power, his scythe swung forward, an arc of sheer obliteration, carrying the weight of worlds. The swing was not merely physical; it rippled through existence itself, seeking to divide the fabric of reality in flawless symmetry.

Malrik didn’t even have time to react. In that fleeting instant, he felt the very concept of reality at his waist fracture, like a mirror cracking under pressure.

And then — it broke.

Reality shattered, then immediately reknit itself.

But it was too late.

Malrik had already been cleaved in half at the waist.

A fountain of crimson erupted into the air, painting the ruins in deep scarlet as his bisected form dropped amidst the carnage.

”Goodbye, Wargr— ”

Orvak’s words were cut short. Something shifted above him, an immense presence. His eyes snapped upward just in time to witness Malrik descending like a burning comet from the heavens.

[Sun Katana Technique: Scorch Halo Descent]

Malrik’s katana slashed through the air in a wide arc, golden-crimson light trailing behind it like the tail of a solar flare. The blade came screaming downward, aiming straight for Orvak’s head with the wrath of a dying star.

Orvak reacted instantly. His black energy surged forth in a violent pulse, enveloping his entire form in a cocoon of chaotic protection. But the moment the radiant blade struck, the world trembled.

A massive halo of golden fire exploded outward, its heat so intense it vaporized everything within several kilometers without hesitation, friend or foe, ash or stone. The landscape cried out in agony.

Orvak gritted his teeth. He could feel his black energy buckling, cracking beneath the sheer radiance of Malrik’s sun-infused assault. The oppressive energy of the sun gnawed at his defenses, relentless and pure.

With narrowed eyes, Orvak summoned his strength. His Astra pulsed violently, converging around him like a storm about to break. He poured everything into his defense, and then,

BOOM

The collision between their forces detonated in a cataclysmic explosion, a shockwave tearing through the battlefield, birthing a new wave of haze and destruction.

But Malrik wasn’t finished.

As the dust swirled, he surged forward in a blur, his katana flashing like a solar flare. He appeared before Orvak with terrifying speed, blade aimed for his neck.

Yet just as the blade began its arc, Malrik froze, if only for a moment. Around him, millions of black crescent shaped energies materialized in the air, orbiting like dark moons.

Then they struck.

One by one, they launched forward, silent, lethal, precise, each one like an arrow loosed from the bow of a forgotten god.

Malrik shifted seamlessly from offense to defense, his form blurring into a silhouette of golden-crimson brilliance. His katana danced through each incoming crescent strike, slicing them apart with effortless precision, like a blade gliding through silk.

With every motion, his speed surged, as if the very concept of exhaustion dared not touch him.

Then, without warning, a black dome burst into existence above him, its oppressive energy seeking to trap him where he stood. But Malrik didn’t spare it a glance. Under the brilliance of the noonday sun, such an attempt was laughably futile.

He invoked his movement technique. In a flash, he harnessed the sun’s rays as his anchor, vanishing in a streak of golden light, only to reappear before Orvak, poised to strike once more.

[Sun Katana Technique: Solbrand Cataclysm]

Orvak reacted instantly, raising the snath of his scythe in defense, but it was futile. Malrik’s katana cleaved through it with the inevitability of a collapsing mountain crushing a flame. The blade didn’t pause; it continued its lethal arc, streaking toward Orvak’s neck like a judgment long overdue.

In that very moment, the solar energy amassed within the katana detonated outward, unleashing cataclysmic force with apocalyptic precision. A brilliant eruption of solar might engulfed the Sinvaira, targeting him with unerring, point-blank devastation.

The heavens seemed to wail as a dying star’s scream tore through the atmosphere. A concussive shockwave erupted, blasting outward in concentric rings of annihilation that shattered the earth, sky, and reason alike.

The air shrieked in agony before being ripped apart entirely. Space itself fractured, unable to withstand the force, and split open into a yawning void. Sinkholes the size of cities ruptured across the land as Malrik, once again, transformed a place of natural beauty, the desert, into an image of divine ruin.

When the haze and solar storm finally dissipated, the battlefield was no more. In its place lay a glassed wasteland, the desert’s very composition altered by the overwhelming heat of Malrik’s solar essence.

And there he stood, katana lowered, cloaked in the heat-haze of destruction. His eyes shimmered an icy blue, and upon his lips curled the grin of a menace born not of chaos, but of mastery.