Cleaver Of Sin

Chapter 547: A Plant

But just because Asher had confirmed the presence of these Adventurers did not mean he had any intention of relying on them for assistance. If one desired to accomplish something with the utmost precision and satisfaction, it was always best for it to be executed by one’s own hands.

Depending on people he did not know could prove exceedingly dangerous, especially if they faltered at a critical moment, and besides, Adventurers and Mercenaries were notoriously known for prioritizing their own survival; when whatever contract or peril they were confronting became overwhelming, they would not hesitate to retreat and preserve themselves, for they could not afford to risk their lives for anybody or anyone beyond reason.

Asher himself did not entirely disagree with that philosophy, for even he would retreat if circumstances demanded it, as he could not recklessly gamble his life for another without calculated purpose, yet that very truth rendered them unreliable within the context of this mission.

If he were to free them and grant them the opportunity to assist him, they might immediately attempt to flee, only to be recaptured and inadvertently expose Asher in the process, undoing everything he had endured thus far. Even if they refrained from escaping at the outset, at a decisive and perilous juncture they could very well use Asher himself as bait to divert attention while they secured their own escape.

This was the world of Crymora, where trust was a currency rarer than platinum coins, and placing faith in an unfamiliar individual was not merely foolish but borderline suicidal. Even within established Adventurer teams, Asher was confident that many would not hesitate to abandon or even sacrifice a teammate if survival demanded it.

Nevertheless, Asher maintained a measured and open mind, for absolute rigidity often led to oversight. If circumstances forced him into a position where their assistance became necessary, he would restrict their involvement to something peripheral, such as escorting the kidnapped villagers to safety while he handled the true core of the operation. Although each villager’s death translated into the loss of a thousand bonus Star Academy points in real time, it was not a factor that genuinely troubled him on an emotional level.

Yet even so, Asher could not entirely suppress the calculation forming in his mind; saving all four hundred villagers would equate to four hundred thousand Star Academy points, an astronomical sum that brushed dangerously close to half a million. With such an amount, Asher could confine himself within the Star Academy’s Training Facility for months without interruption, refining his abilities and accelerating his growth at an unprecedented rate.

Asher remained silent and motionless, fully aware that action would only be appropriate once the deranged man vacated the chamber. Until that precise moment, he would remain exactly where he was and refrain from any movement that might arouse suspicion. Although he had already deduced that someone was monitoring them, perhaps through concealed surveillance or a perceptive ability, Asher had already devised a tentative method to circumvent such observation when the opportunity presented itself.

Asher’s gaze shifted subtly toward the villagers surrounding him; unlike him, who was restrained by heavy chains binding both his forearms and legs in a manner befitting a dangerous individual, the villagers were shackled only at the wrists, as though their captors could effortlessly distinguish between an Adventurer and a mere villager without difficulty.

The moment Asher’s eyes settled upon the villagers, he witnessed a desperate scene of survival; despite their food having been carelessly thrown onto the cold, dirt and dust-ridden stone floor, they hurried to gather it, consuming every scrap with frantic hunger and undisguised satisfaction, unwilling to waste even a fragment. The metallic clatter of chains echoed softly as they shifted and leaned forward to eat.

Even the woman seated to Asher’s left, who had been weeping moments earlier, was now eating, silent tears continuing to stream down her cheeks as she chewed mechanically, driven by instinct rather than dignity, while the man to Asher’s right also consumed his portion, whatever thoughts weighed upon his mind unable to override the fundamental demands of biology itself.

Asher did not judge them; if he were reduced to their condition, he would unquestionably do the same. Furthermore, he could discern that the kidnappers were feeding the villagers solely to preserve their vitality for some unknown future purpose, as the portions were clearly insufficient to fully satiate them. After all, they were kidnappers, not benevolent providers, and the mere act of supplying food to hundreds of captives was already more effort than most would expect.

’I suppose that deranged individual intends to starve me and the other Adventurers,’ Asher reflected internally, recognizing that awakeners of their caliber could endure several days without sustenance, and since he had only recently been captured, the deprivation tactic had not yet affected him. However, for the other Adventurers who had been missing for an indeterminate span of time, the same could not necessarily be said.

’Sigh, will this man not leave already?’ Asher pondered inwardly as the masked and unhinged individual continued to linger within the chamber, his presence an obstacle to any decisive action.

”Do not even contemplate it, kid,” a broken, hoarse, and weakened voice rasped from Asher’s ten o’clock position. At the sound of those words, Asher turned his head approximately thirty degrees to the left of his forward gaze, his violet eyes settling upon a man who appeared utterly indifferent to the food scattered before him, as though it held no value whatsoever.

Asher’s gaze swept briefly across the interior of the man’s cell, noting additional untouched portions on the floor, and he did not require confirmation to understand that the man had not eaten since his arrival.

”I can see it in your eyes,” the man continued in a strained tone, ”you are planning to escape, aren’t you?” His black eyes remained fixed upon Asher, despite the evident weakness in his voice.

Asher could not dismiss the possibility that this individual might be a plant, perhaps an accomplice of the deranged guard masquerading as a fellow captive in order to extract information regarding any plans or whispered discussions among the prisoners. It was a tactic he had observed countless times in various movies and narratives, where trust was exploited to devastating effect.

Asher remained silent for a moment, offering no immediate response, quietly contemplating how this supposed villager had managed to perceive his intent, something the masked deranged man had failed to detect earlier.

It was not that Asher subscribed to the notion that villagers lacked intelligence or were inherently simple-minded; rather, he was genuinely surprised and, to a certain extent, impressed by the man’s perceptiveness under such dire circumstances.

”You are an Adventurer, correct?” the man persisted softly. ”I can tell because you are restrained differently from me and the other villagers,” he paused briefly before continuing, ”if you somehow manage to escape, please take my son with you. He resembles me closely, so you will recognize him without difficulty if you encounter him, and also, tell my wife that I am sorry and that I failed to protect our son.” The man fell silent afterward, his weary gaze fixed upon Asher as though awaiting even the faintest acknowledgment or reply.