CLEAVER OF SIN

Six months had passed since Asher survived the True Awakening. Throughout those months, he did nothing but train, eat, sleep, and occasionally gist with Ella, Hito, and Tom. His daily routine rarely deviated from this cycle, as though the rhythm of repetition gave him a sense of order amidst the silent walls of the Wargrave estate.

Once again, he was the only Sun or Moon still residing within the Wargrave estate, being the last among his siblings who remained in training. The only other Wargraves still present were his grand-uncles and his grand-aunt, all of whom were far removed from his daily affairs.

Asher's chest rose and fell with calm rhythm as he slept. The morning sun seeped gently through the window, casting its golden rays across his face. Moments later, stirred by the brightness warming his eyelids, Asher's eyes fluttered open, returning to the world with quiet acceptance.

He remained lying there for a few minutes, simply staring at the ceiling in silence. Today, he wouldn't be heading to the First Training Ground, he had officially graduated from it.

Trainees who turned eighteen were now considered "graduated trainees." They could now join the Wargrave Knights Order, though at the lowest possible rank, owing to their lack of experience and underdeveloped combat capabilities.

Today, Asher had turned eighteen years old. That meant, by Wargrave tradition, he was no longer permitted to use the First Training Ground, or any training ground, for that matter.

He wasn't the only one who had recently graduated. Several others, including Tom and Ella, had already departed before him. Hito was set to turn eighteen the following week, which meant he too would soon leave to see the world and uncover what it had in store.

There was no special celebration to mark a trainee's graduation. No ceremony, no feast. Instead, each trainee was handed a single document meant for submission to the Knight Order. This document detailed their record of training completion, along with an evaluation of their overall performance and progress during their time at the training ground.

Asher shifted from his lying position to a seated one. Despite having reached such a milestone, eighteen years of age, there was no banquet, no father to offer birthday wishes, no brother, no sister to toast to him long life and prosperity. No one came bearing gifts or heartfelt words.

It wasn't as though Asher had expected any of that, but the absence of warmth made this birthday feel particularly hollow.

At least the previous year had brought meaning, when he turned seventeen, he awakened his Astra veins, gained a system, and acquired a unique physique. That birthday had held promise, transformation, and quiet triumph.

Still, he understood. The Wargraves were not a family for celebrations, for parties or revelry. He was not the first Wargrave to turn eighteen. Thalric had also crossed this threshold, and even for him, there had been no grand gestures, no gifts, no raised glasses. To the estate, it was just another day.

'Would Lyra be giving me another gift this year?' Asher thought with a light chuckle, the corners of his lips twitching upward.

He rose from the bed with quiet ease. Standing tall, he stretched his body, savoring the subtle pleasure that came with releasing tension from his limbs. Afterward, he staggered toward the window, his purple eyes peering through the glass as he fixed his gaze on the expansive Wargrave territory beyond the gate.

In a full year since his arrival in this world, Asher had only left those gates twice. Soon, he would be stepping beyond them for a third time, yet unlike before, he would not return within a few hours or days.

His thoughts wandered to the Academy. Though he had heard it mentioned several times, he had never taken the initiative to research it deeply, not even in the library. His daily schedule was too rigid, and he had never permitted himself to stray from it for even a moment.

He had only been told by the First Sun, Malrik, that upon turning eighteen, he would be heading to the Academy. There had been no registration, no forms to fill, no bureaucratic process to follow.

That didn't bother him much. Soon, he would obtain all the information he needed, he planned to visit the library shortly, a place he hadn't stepped foot in since his awakening at seventeen.

Yet a single question lingered in his mind. If he was to go to the Academy now that he had turned eighteen, then who exactly was supposed to escort him there? One of the Great Elders, perhaps? The Library, who was himself a Great Elder, certainly didn't strike Asher as someone who would volunteer for such a duty.

From the way the man seemed to live in a permanent state of relaxation amidst the library's scrolls and books, Asher had long concluded that he might be the most carefree, or perhaps the laziest, Wargrave in existence.

A soft knock echoed on his door, pulling him from his thoughts. Asher didn't respond verbally. Instead, with a mere flicker of will, he manipulated the Astra in the air using his advanced control to unlock and open the door with silent grace.

Through it stepped Lyra, moving with practiced elegance.

Asher could feel it, her strength had subtly increased over the past year. Though he didn't know the specifics, he didn't ask. Over the past six months, he had allowed Lyra all the time she needed to focus on cultivation and improving her Life Rank.

Every day, as Asher departed for his twelve-hour training from 7 a.m. to 7 p.m., Lyra was permitted to use that time to train in his personal training chamber, one saturated with a higher concentration of Astra than most other rooms.

Still, Lyra always returned by 6:30 p.m., faithfully waiting for his return.

"Good morning, Young Master," she greeted with a graceful bow, her tone calm and respectful.

Asher didn't reply immediately. He continued to stare through the glass, lost in thought.

Lyra said nothing more. She stood silently to the side, choosing not to disturb him in case something weighed heavily on his mind.

Eventually, Asher spoke. His voice was calm, tinged with a hint of sadness.

"It seems we'll soon be separated, Lyra."

Lyra's thoughts paused, her expression flickering briefly as she processed his words. She knew what he meant. Asher had told her before, he would be heading to the Academy when he turned eighteen. That time had now arrived.

That meant she wouldn't be by his side any longer, at least not until he returned on breaks or received special permissions, such as when another Wargrave went through their True Awakening.