CLEAVER OF SIN

Asher sighed as he leaned against the table before him, his face carrying a tired expression.

Deep down, he knew himself. He was, at his core, a lazy person, an extremely lazy person, in fact. But, he was not blind to reality. He understood all too well the harshness and cruelty of this world.

Laziness, no matter how comforting, would not save him here. It would not shield him from blades, schemes, or the inevitability of death. That was why he trained every single day, without fail. He could never allow himself to lower his guard. Who knew how quickly life could be snatched away in a moment of carelessness?

Even so, Asher was not some novel's protagonist, one of those tireless characters who cultivated from dawn to dusk without pause, grinding themselves into machines all in the name of becoming the strongest.

That path was not for him.

After all, what was the use of becoming the strongest if one could not enjoy the journey?

For Asher, it was not merely about the end goal but also about the path leading there. He relished every step, balancing discipline with rest.

Just because he had transmigrated into a world of cultivation did not mean he had to suddenly transform into a training fanatic. That was never who he was, nor who he wanted to become.

Yes, he would train, but he will balance it with other aspects of life.

Another sigh escaped his lips as his thoughts drifted to the day he had first awakened in this world, recalling the hours spent reading the histories of Crymora.

Yes, he had been given a system. And yes, the system had blessed him with a physique, an Absolute Physique so overpowered that it placed him leagues ahead of others. But that advantage had not exempted him from toil. His body still required him to train, to fight, to push forward through effort and grit. Power was not delivered freely; it was forged through his persistence.

Still, a part of him could not help but imagine something different. Beneath his disciplined exterior, the lazy man inside yearned for a shortcut. A small voice whispered of what could have been if the system had come equipped with an auto-cultivation function, like the one-click systems so often described in the eastern fantasy novels he used to read.

Just imagine it: opening the system, clicking a single button, and then simply sitting back while power accumulated endlessly, carrying him effortlessly to the peak.

A dream of endless naps and boundless growth. But his system seemed to frown on laziness, almost as if it deliberately mocked that part of his personality.

'System, can't you update yourself? Add a one-click auto-cultivation function in your next upgrade?' Asher asked silently, half-amused.

[...]

The reply that came left him staring blankly, as though the system itself was rendered speechless by his audacity.

He chuckled softly. He hadn't been entirely serious, at least not outwardly. He truly did appreciate the gift of his Absolute Physique, and he would never take it for granted.

But still, if the system somehow considered his suggestion and implemented it… would that not be the greatest blessing?

"If that happens," Asher muttered to himself with a crooked smile, "I should probably change my name from Asher Wargrave to something more fitting. Wang Pang Wargrave… or maybe Li Feng Wargrave… or even Zhang Wargrave." His words dissolved into a quiet chuckle.

With a flicker of thought, he spoke inwardly: Status.

The familiar chime echoed in his mind, followed by the crystalline projection of his statistics.

[Name: Asher Wargrave

Age: Eighteen

Bloodline: The Wargrave Lineage

Physique: Absolute Physique

Titles: [Youngest Heir] [Tenth Sun] [Disgrace of the Wargrave] [Unique Body Holder] [The Star's Heir] (New!) [Monster] (New!)

Life Rank: Blazestar

Sub-Life Rank: Dust

Affinity: Lightning, Star: Space, Gravity, Light

Strength: 108 → 197

Agility: 105 → 193

Vitality: 100 → 350

Perception: 101 → 230

Inventory: Platinum coins, assorted cuisine, liters of drinking water]

Asher gazed at the glowing screen, his lips curving into a proud smile. He was pleased with himself, more than pleased, in fact. He was proud.

In a single year, he had climbed from a mere unawakened to Dust Blazestar, the early stage of the fourth Life Rank in Crymora's cultivation hierarchy. Such progress was unheard of.

How many others could boast of such speed? The answer was obvious: none.

What nobles took three years to accomplish, Asher had achieved in just one. But he was not naive. He knew that while Life Rank placed him in the same realm as others, there were still those who surpassed him through higher sub-ranks.

Ryaen Silvershade, for instance.

Ryaen's strength was frightening. Her physique was extraordinary, bolstered even further by her absurd bloodline. By all reasoning, Asher should have fallen behind her in terms of sheer physical combat. And yet… she had fallen before him.

The Wargraves possessed natural physiques already superior to most people in Crymora. That advantage alone granted them a head start. But when the system had bestowed upon him the Absolute Physique, that lead had multiplied instantly. To add to that, the Star Core Fragment had reforged his body at its most fundamental level, reconstructing him from the foundation of his DNA up to the very fabric of his Astra veins.

Against such advantages, Ryaen had stood no chance.

His gaze shifted to the titles displayed. "Star's Heir" had appeared a month ago when he fused with the Star Core Fragment. "Monster," however, had been newly earned, bestowed upon him today, right after the battle exam has been displayed, where his overwhelming strength had been impossible to deny.

Looking deeper, he noted the remarkable surge in his vitality and perception. Those two attributes had always lagged behind his others, but now they had soared.

It made sense.

The Star Core Fragment pulsed with vitality, infusing his body with resilience beyond reason. Where most world powerhouses peaked at a thousand years of lifespan, Asher suspected he would surpass even that limit with Star Energy coursing through him.

As for perception, its growth was tied to his Perfect Astra Control ability. His mind was sharper, keener, more attuned to the flow of energy than ever before.

Asher dismissed the status screen with a flicker of thought, satisfaction warming his chest. He knew the path forward would only grow more difficult. Each advancement in Life Rank would demand more from him, more time, more energy, more trials. But far from discouraging him, this only solidified his eagerness.

'System, what's the time?' he asked, more out of habit than necessity.

[7:47 pm]

The system chimed.

Nodding, Asher rose from the chair and made his way to his bed. There was no need for him to linger or participate in the so-called hiding event, a pointless attempt orchestrated by a certain old man. To him, it was nothing more than wishful thinking.

How could they possibly hope to conceal themselves from the perception of those who stood leagues above them?

Not that he blamed the other candidates. If he had been rejected by the Star Academy, he too might have clung to whatever desperate measures were left.

He stretched out on the bed, his body sinking comfortably into the sheets. With a final exhale, he closed his eyes, shutting out the noise and chaos of the outside world.

While more than seven hundred candidates scrambled to hide themselves with tricks, abilities, or clever concealments, Asher simply drifted into slumber. His breathing slowed, even, peaceful, like that of a child untouched by the burdens of fate.

Tomorrow, the Academy would truly begin.

And Asher Wargrave would be ready.