Cleaver Of Sin

Chapter 385: Water Assassin [Bonus Chapter]

Suddenly, William felt something wet brush against his shoulder. ’An attack?’ he thought, his head snapping upward toward the clouds. ’Oh... it’s just the rain,’ he concluded, as water gently drizzled down from above, the droplets cold and unrelenting against his skin.

But as his eyes shifted from the clouds to the surrounding terrain, a frown creased his brow. Something was off. The rain wasn’t falling uniformly, it only drizzled within a few meters of him, leaving the rest of the area completely dry.

Before he could react further, an explosion tore through his body, the force blasting him backward with immense speed. His back slammed against the rough bark of a towering tree, the impact jarring, yet as he fell, his hands caught a branch, stabilizing his body before it could crash to the ground.

His eyes instinctively dropped to his body. Despite being hit point-blank by the explosion, he wasn’t bleeding heavily, a small mercy amidst the chaos. No sooner had he taken a breath than another explosion detonated directly at him, snapping his body backward once more like a kite caught in a violent storm.

William didn’t need to be told, he already knew the culprit. The water assassin was responsible, manipulating the water droplets that had touched him during the fake rain to create precise, deadly explosions. The only reason he had survived thus far was because the droplets had been small; if he had been soaked, even partially, the results would have been fatal.

His body twisted midair, his boots digging into the earth, instantly carving two deep trenches as he came to a halt. Understanding the mechanics behind the attack, William immediately began executing his countermeasure. Lightning crackled along his body, the heat vaporizing every droplet of water with meticulous ease, leaving none to trigger a further explosion.

His muscles screamed from the strain, his body aching as if protesting the relentless barrage of assault. He was slightly injured; his left earlobe had been blown off, blood trickling down in thin rivulets, but William paid it no mind. Then, he heard it, the heavy, rhythmic downpour of water resuming from above.

This time, he was cautious. Astra energy surged from his Astra veins and into the sky, forming a protective dome of light that repelled the rain while simultaneously allowing purple lightning to course through his body, prepared for any additional tricks from the water assassin.

Minutes passed, one, two, five, each stretching like an eternity as William maintained the dome. He frowned. He couldn’t sustain this indefinitely; the effort threatened to deplete his Astra reserves. He wasn’t reckless like Asher, who could hurl powerful attacks with abandon at will.

’I have to find the water assassin,’ he thought, his eyes scanning the battlefield as he observed the other assassins. Most were still waiting, conserving their energy, biding their time, hoping he would exhaust his reserves.

’There.’ One assassin stood out. While the others remained idle, this one expended Astra energy constantly, he realized. ’It must be her,’ he concluded, the answer crystallizing in his mind.

With a thought, space bent around him as he vanished from sight. In the blink of an eye, he reappeared above the cluster of assassins, directly above the water manipulator. He didn’t draw his claymore; instead, a thick orb of lightning formed above his palm, crackling with raw, overwhelming energy as he poured a significant portion of his Astra reserves into it.

He hurled the orb at the cluster, then vanished instantly, leaving no trace of his presence. The orb detonated with a blinding, violet-white explosion, a calamitous impact that wiped the assassins from the battlefield in a single, devastating strike. Charred limbs and dismembered bodies littered the area, and the acrid smell of blood hung thickly in the air. Smoke and dust spiraled skyward, creating a hazy shroud that obscured the battlefield entirely.

With the water assassin eliminated, the fake rain ceased, the sky returning to its somber, natural drizzle.

Another assassin closed in, seemingly undeterred by the death of their comrade. William raised his claymore, prepared to engage head-on. But as the assassin approached, barely five meters away, the assassin swung his daggers through the empty air.

Instantly, the shadows within a five-meter radius of him surged upward, forming slashing appendages of darkness that attacked with blinding speed, precision, and force. William’s eyes widened, lightning coursing through his veins as it augmented his reflexes. He dodged each attack with calculated agility, his movements a blur of motion.

He raised a hand, forming a sword of pure light. It shot forward at impossible speed, but the assassin anticipated the strike, twisting aside with effortless grace. Yet William had already predicted the dodge. The moment the assassin moved, the light sword detonated midair, striking directly into their torso and reducing the body to nothing but fragmented flesh and shattered bone.

Another opponent lunged from the left. William’s claymore blurred forward, but he struck only air; simultaneously, a hidden blade tore across his arm from the right. He grimaced, shifting his gaze toward the fresh wound. Before he could react, another strike descended from above. His claymore blurred forward again, meeting nothing but empty space as an unseen attack struck from below. Blood spattered, yet William unleashed a burst of golden radiance that coated his legs, enhancing his speed and reflexes in a shimmering golden radiance as he tore backwards.

A final strike aimed for his neck, frontal and sudden. William’s blade flashed, meeting the assassin’s weapon with a metallic hiss of clashing steel, the sound echoing like thunder across the battlefield.

By now, William had discerned the assassin’s ability: a form of sensory manipulation, capable of fooling the opponent into perceiving attacks from false directions.

Before the assassin could recover, William struck. Bolstered by the surging light around his feet, he moved faster than the eye could follow, his claymore cleaving through the air toward the assassin’s neck. In an instant, the enemy’s world spun, disoriented and defeated, as William eradicated them from Crymora with ruthless efficiency.

His senses snapped back into place, unclouded, as he continued his relentless battle. There was no hesitation, no mercy, only the precision and lethal grace of a warrior who had mastered both mind and power in the art of combat.