Cleaver Of Sin

Chapter 245: Pedophile

Virelass trembled in Asher’s arm as though urging him to abandon his aura farming and move forward, for enemies still remained, each one waiting in line to be cut down. Asher’s purple gaze tore away from the havoc he had wrought upon the Star Academy grounds.

All enemies who had stood within nearly a two hundred meter radius had been extinguished, and thus, there was no reason to linger amidst the silent ruins of corpses and shattered stone.

”Catch you later, William,” he intoned without sparing the boy a glance, his voice calm yet edged with finality.

Astra pulsed through his Astra veins like rivers of luminous current, light energy gathering at his feet, flickering and snapping against the cracked terrain.

His ankles dipped forward slightly, his muscles coiling with taut precision, compressed like a spring wound to its limit. The molten earth beneath him buckled under the pressure of his stance, sinking and fracturing into spiderweb fissures that stretched outward in trembling lines. Then, with an ear-splitting boom that reverberated across the ruined grounds, his figure vanished, shot forward with the blistering speed of a missile tearing free from the iron embrace of its fighter jet.

The battlefield blurred. The wind screamed as his body split through it like fragile parchment ripped in a single motion. His speed magnified with each heartbeat, a rhythm of deadly acceleration, as his legs struck the earth with terrifying grace. The ground cracked and dented with each step, the sheer force of his sprint carving scars into the battlefield. Within mere seconds, he had crossed a hundred meters, then two hundred, reaching the untouched fringes beyond the radius of his earlier devastation.

There was no hesitation, no pause, no blink, not even the ghost of a second thought. He moved the moment his eyes locked on his prey.

In a silver arc, Virelass sang forward, a streak of death cutting across the air. A criminal’s throat parted before the man could even register Asher’s presence. Blood erupted in a geyser, a scarlet fountain leaping skyward, only to be devoured before touching the ground. It unraveled into crimson threads that coiled toward Virelass, drawn to its edge, absorbed in savage exhilaration.

Asher himself dissolved into a blur of motion. Wherever he stepped, a body collapsed, and wherever his blade whispered, a head was sent soaring. The world became a smear of speed and death, his vision streaked with violet light and crimson haze. His purple hair streamed like a banner, his garments whipping violently as he ripped through his opponents like a scythe through ripened wheat, lethal and merciless.

The death toll mounted without restraint. He was no longer merely Asher, he seemed the heir apparent to the God of Death and Darkness, harvesting soul after soul without pause. Virelass gleamed with a vicious luster, its edges sharpening as though every strike refined its hunger, every spatter of blood added to its keenness, every life extinguished poured into its lethal will.

Suddenly, Asher’s instincts screamed. An immense wave of energy surged from behind, tearing toward him with annihilating intent. He did not waste time raising his weapon; he did not even bother to brace. His figure shimmered, collapsing into distortion before vanishing. He reappeared elsewhere in an instant, his teleportation leaving behind only a blur and a faint echo of displaced space.

A moment later, obliteration struck. The Astra blast detonated where he had stood, ripping through the battlefield in sundering waves of destruction. Trenches tore into the earth, the ground gouged apart as easily as butter beneath a hot knife, molten fragments scattering into the air.

Asher rematerialized upon a rooftop, his sharp gaze snapping toward the origin of the attack. There, standing unshaken amid the chaos, was a woman whose smile did not waver. The very air around her chilled, the atmosphere heavy with frost as though her presence alone threatened to freeze the marrow of the battlefield.

His eyes narrowed. The sensation that washed over him was more than danger, it was inevitability. He could not yet measure her true strength, but he knew she was not one to be underestimated. He made no hasty moves; instead, he stood silent, purple eyes locked upon her, weighing, calculating.

A katana rested at her waist, its placement deliberate and precise, as though affixed with love and care. Her hair fell black and smooth as midnight silk, framing a face of calm cruelty. Her eyes, a vivid green, glowed faintly with chilling vitality.

She smiled at Asher as though amused, and then she spoke.

”You seem to have caused quite a lot of trouble. It appears the Star Academy is brimming with more talent than usual,” she said, her tone as cold as the frost that prickled across the air around her.

”But alas,” she continued, her words sharpened by disdain, ”even the Star Academy has fallen. And I wonder... where has that bitch, the so-called Goddess of Space, disappeared to?”

Asher remained silent. If it had been another enemy, he would have ended the conversation with a single strike, decapitating her without hesitation. But with this woman, he knew such rashness would be fatal. To rush headlong was to invite death. Against people like her, one needed patience, gleaning, observing, discerning even the smallest weakness.

’What is someone like her doing among the criminals inside the Star Academy?’ The thought pressed against his mind, refusing to leave.

Almost as though she had read his inner doubt, the woman tilted her head and smiled more warmly.

”Although you are a bit too old,” she said sweetly, ”because of your handsome face, I will allow you to become part of my little boy-toy harem.” Her voice dripped with false affection, her expression soft and loving, as if she might hand Asher the world should he only ask.

Asher froze, not from embarrassment or fluster, but from shock at two simple words: too old.

He had turned eighteen barely over a month ago, and yet she declared him already past her standard. The implication was chilling.

’She’s a child molester... a pedophile. And by saying ”boy-toy harem,” she means she gathers children, collecting them as prizes for her twisted pleasure.’ The thought hammered into him with growing disgust.

’People like her deserve death on the spot. Why waste the effort of keeping her alive?’ His frown deepened faintly.

Seeing his silence, the woman leaned closer, her voice lilting with mock tenderness. ”Are you mute, child? Don’t worry. When I’m done with you, I’m certain you’ll find your first words, drawn out of pure ecstasy, from the bliss of hormones surging through your veins after our moment together.” Her eyes brightened disturbingly, sparkling as though she were already lost in her own grotesque delusional imagination.

”I refuse,” Asher’s voice cut through her fantasy, sharp and cold.

Her expression soured instantly, the tender facade shattering. ”I don’t like being rejected, noble brat.”

Asher offered no more words. His answer was Virelass itself, the rapier raised, its sharp tip leveled at her heart with calm finality.

”Then your death it is,” the woman declared, her voice echoing with chilling wrath, stripped of all pretense.

The moment her words faded, her katana was already in motion. With lethal ferocity, it tore toward Asher’s neck, the distance between them collapsing as though space itself had been rendered meaningless, nothing more than a rule she could casually dismiss.

The blade came down, swift as inevitability itself, the promise of death carried in its gleaming edge.

________

AUTHOR’S NOTE: It seems there’s been a misunderstanding. The top ten goal I speak about is the one about golden tickets. That is the official top ten rank, not any other rank you see or know about. So we will be needing your golden tickets in any way or form you can support me with.