Cleaver Of Sin

Chapter 219: Astra Mote

”As you have just witnessed, I have already caused a significant amount of destruction without the aid of any weapon, technique, or ability, simply nothing but pure Astra energy and precise control,” Melissa declared once again as she stood with composure upon the stage, her presence radiating quiet authority.

Her voice rang out across the hall, measured yet firm, each syllable deliberately chosen to emphasize the weight of her words.

”Since the demonstration on my part has now concluded, the time has come to begin the lesson in earnest. And for that,” she intoned with finality, ”we shall proceed with a demonstration from your side.”

At her statement, frowns appeared across the faces of the gathered students. Anxiety rippled silently through the hall. They had just seen her unleash a torrent of pure Astra that shattered stone walls and ripped apart the classroom with terrifying ease. They knew, beyond all doubt, that none of them could replicate even the smallest fraction of what she had displayed. And yet, it seemed she was demanding precisely that from them on the very first day.

’Is she insane?’ many of them could not help but think as their eyes darted toward her in disbelief.

Melissa, reading the collective expression with uncanny accuracy, immediately clarified herself. ”I am not asking you to repeat what I have done. What I seek is far simpler. The purpose of the demonstration I require from you is not to impress me with destruction, but to allow me to accurately gauge the current level of your Astra control. We will accomplish this through a practical trial. Each of you will form an Astra sphere the size of a football in your palm. From there, every ten seconds you will reduce the size of the Astra ball, step by step, until you can no longer keep it stable, or until you reach the absolute smallest size you can sustain.”

As she finished her instructions, streams of Astra energy surged into existence above her palm. The glow swirled and twisted until it resolved itself into a shimmering countdown, descending from ten to zero in bright golden digits. ”You may begin,” she commanded. The luminous number ten flickered briefly before shifting to nine.

The students immediately set to work, each summoning Astra energy into their hands. Before long, glowing orbs the size of footballs hovered above their palms. At a glance, the task appeared easy; nearly everyone succeeded in forming the sphere on the first attempt. But, when observed closely, subtle differences became apparent. Some spheres were perfectly smooth, radiating stability, while others trembled, their edges rough and uneven, betraying a lack of fine control.

The countdown ticked to zero, and in unison, the students shrank their spheres. A fresh ten-second cycle began to measure their stability at the reduced size.

Melissa did not interfere. She did not lecture further. Her sharp eyes merely observed, cataloging each student’s level of skill. After all, talent was not evenly distributed, she knew that already. She did not expect uniform results; she sought only to understand what foundation she was working with.

Seconds bled away. Some students were already struggling, their spheres flickering violently, threatening to collapse at the faintest disturbance. Yet Melissa said nothing. This silence, heavy and deliberate, was a lesson in itself.

Meanwhile, among the more skilled students, the noble heirs and those seated at the top of the class hierarchy, the spheres still held steady. Their brows furrowed in concentration, beads of sweat forming across foreheads as they shrank their Astra orbs with painstaking focus.

Melissa’s gaze eventually drifted toward one student in particular, Asher. While others strained visibly under the task, she saw him seated with perfect calm, his body at ease. Unlike the others, his eyes were not fixed on the sphere in his palm. Instead, he gazed lazily out the window, his focus seemingly elsewhere. And yet, his Astra sphere obediently shrank at each interval, perfectly stable, as though requiring no effort or thought at all.

Time pressed on. Explosions soon echoed throughout the hall as spheres destabilized, bursting into harmless flashes of energy across students’ palms and faces. Gasps followed, though no one was harmed, this was the natural failure point of Astra training. One by one, the spheres disappeared, until only the strongest remained.

It came as no surprise when the final handful of students were revealed to be the top ten, all almost of noble descent, their abilities polished by the training of prestigious households. They had lasted longer than the rest, displaying control that placed them leagues above their peers.

With the task concluded, the students turned their gazes back toward the instructor, awaiting Melissa’s next words. But to their surprise, she was not looking at them. Instead, her crimson eyes were fixed on a single direction. Instinctively, the rest of the class turned their heads, following her gaze.

At the far back, seated near a window, a boy with striking purple hair and equally vivid purple eyes sat in silence. His posture was relaxed, almost indifferent, as though he were detached from the exercise entirely.

Asher.

Noticing the weight of two hundred stares suddenly converging upon him, Asher shifted his gaze from the sky outside the window back toward the classroom. His eyes swept briefly across the faces staring at him before settling back upon the fading countdown.

As the timer struck zero once more, Asher calmly reduced his Astra ball again. Now no larger than a pebble, the sphere floated serenely above his palm, flawless and perfect. There was no sign of strain upon his face. In fact, he appeared almost disinterested.

With a slight adjustment of posture, he tilted his hand so that the tiny orb drifted upward, resting just above his right index finger, where it hovered effortlessly.

The countdown did not stop. It ticked onward, compelling the next reduction. Each time Asher complied, the sphere grew smaller still, until his fellow classmates began to swallow nervously, unable to mask their astonishment.

They knew it in that moment. They felt it without needing anyone to confirm it. This was the number one of their class. This was the Tenth Sun.

’Did he seize first place solely through Astra control alone?’ many could not help but think, watching with a mixture of awe, envy, and despair as the gap between themselves and him revealed itself like a canyon they could never cross.

Melissa did not interrupt. She did not caution him to stop or congratulate him prematurely. Her expression remained calm, though her eyes gleamed with sharp intensity as she watched the scene unfold.

And then, it happened.

The sphere above Asher’s finger vanished. One moment it was there; the next, it seemed to disappear completely, leaving nothing behind.

’Finally,’ many of the students thought, relief mingling with disbelief. ’Even he has reached his limit.’

But Asher’s hand did not fall. His finger remained extended, poised with the same stillness as before, as though he still held something invisible in the air.

Melissa’s sharp instincts stirred. She said nothing aloud but moved silently from the stage, ascending the steps with measured grace until she approached Asher’s desk. Lowering herself slightly, she narrowed her eyes, focusing intently upon his fingertip.

And then she saw it.

The Astra had not vanished. No, it had been compressed, refined beyond what the human eye could readily perceive. Asher had reduced it to its most fundamental essence, to a level of refinement so infinitesimal it escaped the notice of all present. What hovered there was the smallest measurable unit of Astra, something so fine, so precise, that none of these students had ever seen it, nor even knew it was possible to achieve.

An Astra mote.