Asher remained motionless, his gaze fixed ahead as his breathing gradually steadied. He was fully aware that he was being tracked, and given the number of assassins lurking nearby, it was wiser to confront them now and consider an escape plan afterward.
Besides, with his movements already under surveillance, fleeing would likely prove futile. What he couldn’t afford, however, was to be encircled or confined to a single location.
Virelass was already drawing Astra from the atmosphere, steadily replenishing her reserves in preparation for when Asher might require them. Meanwhile, Asher’s own Astra was recovering passively.
Though he had discovered a method to absorb Astra without needing to assume a fixed posture, like the traditional lotus position, it didn’t grant him the freedom to draw it under any circumstance.
No, the passive intake only functioned during mundane activities such as walking, eating, reading, sitting, or light jogging. Certainly not while engaged in a life-or-death battle.
As Asher waited for the assassins to make their move, he used the brief lull to recover his stamina. Then, he heard it, a sound. A clap.
Clap. Clap. Clap. Clap. Clap. Clap.
His gaze shifted toward the source of the noise, and from the darkness, five figures emerged, each wearing a distinct mask that concealed their identity.
The one who had been clapping stepped forward, eyes fixed on Asher. His voice carried a mix of amusement and intrigue.
"I must admit, the Wargrave bloodline truly defies reason. Not even the mediocrity of a third awakening could restrain it."
Asher remained silent. He offered no reply. Though he wasn’t into villainous monologues and was the type to end things swiftly through combat, he knew better than to waste the opportunity, every second of stillness allowed his body to recover just a little more.
"I’d heard rumors," the assassin continued, his tone both mocking and impressed. "They said you defeated the son of Duke Rhydion Silvershade, but I still expected mediocrity. And yet, here you are, cutting down trained assassins as if they were nothing. Truly remarkable."
He took a step closer, voice now laced with quiet arrogance.
"I accepted this contract for the prestige it would bring, after all, slaying a Wargrave would do wonders for my reputation. And you, you’ve already burned through all your Astra on that panther, and whatever faint remnants remained were spent on the last assassin."
The man drew a blade, its edge glinting faintly in the darkness.
"So, Tenth Sun, Asher Wargrave, do us all a favor and surrender your head before sunrise. After all, this place will be your grave."
Of course, the assassin had no idea that Asher had already replenished thirty percent of his Astra reserves. Without a specialized ability, it was impossible to perceive the quantity of Astra flowing through someone’s Astra veins.
Asher remained still, eyes fixed ahead as the assassins prepared to strike. Traditionally, assassins were meant to be silent, ghosts in the dark who struck without warning or presence. But these ones were... arrogant.
’System,’ Asher called out mentally, ’how much time has passed?’
[Ding]
[One hour and thirty minutes]
’Five more hours’ Asher thought silently, his expression unreadable.
Four assassins surged forward without hesitation, weapons drawn, their movements swift and deadly as they closed in on Asher.
He reacted instantly, his figure blurring as he darted backward, covering several meters in the blink of an eye. But to his frustration, the assassins matched his pace with unnerving ease.
Suddenly, a serpentine shape entered his Omni Perception, slithering through the air with lethal intent. It lunged at his neck like a viper striking from the shadows.
’A whip,’ Asher registered at once.
Without hesitation, he raised Virelass to intercept, his hand already in motion. But the whip twisted around the weapon like a living vine, tightening its grip. In the next breath, the assassin yanked viciously, and Virelass was torn from Asher’s grasp.
But Asher didn’t flinch. There was no time to retrieve his weapon, a heavy axe was already descending toward his head. He had no choice but to retreat.
With a sharp swish, the axe tore through the air and slammed into the ground, carving a jagged trench several meters long in its wake.
Before he could recover, a dagger came sweeping in from the side. Asher reacted instantly, his hand shot out, seizing the assassin’s wrist mid-strike. In the same motion, his other hand snapped forward like a bullet, driving upward toward the assassin’s chin with brutal force.
But the assassin deftly snapped her head to the side, evading the strike with fluid movement. A second dagger materialized in her other hand, thrusting forward like a fang aimed directly at Asher’s gut.
He immediately released her wrist and twisted away, but the assassin was already one step ahead, anticipating his movement. She closed the gap in an instant, twin daggers flashing as they streaked toward his head.
In a brilliant streak of silver, Virelass reappeared in Asher’s grip. He raised it to block.
But as the weapons were about to clash, something went wrong.
The daggers passed straight through his rapier, as though it were made of mist, not metal.
And then, with a sickening, flesh-ripping sound, the blade sliced into his chest, tearing through skin and muscle like a lunellum through parchment.
Asher’s eyes widened in shock as searing pain erupted through his chest, his nervous system lighting up in a storm of agony. Blood burst from the wound in a crimson spray, painting the air around him.
Before Virelass could even begin to draw blood for its regenerative effect, a sharp, distinct sound tore through the air, twice, from opposing directions.
His body moved before his mind could catch up.
Instinctive Adaptation ignited once more, his reflexes prioritizing the deadliest threat. His arm snapped forward, Virelass raised in a desperate attempt to block.
But his stamina was all but gone. His strength had been drained to the dregs. Even if he pushed his body further using Astra augmentation, it would change nothing, as his enemies could still match his speed effortlessly without doing the same.
The hammer crashed against Virelass with the force of a thunderclap, the sound of shattering air reverberating through the forest. A tremendous shockwave tore through Asher’s body, his frame buckling beneath the sheer, monstrous impact.
Inertia seized him instantly, hurling him sideways like a ragdoll. But before he had even crossed a full meter, the second strike landed.
A deafening crack rang out as a whip lashed forward with brutal impact, slamming directly into his already wounded chest. The impact detonated through his torso, launching him backward in a violent arc.
His body collided with trees, ricocheting from one trunk to another like a broken projectile before finally crashing to the ground, his momentum carving a deep trench through the earth as he skidded to a brutal halt.