CLEAVER OF SIN - Chapter 260

Chapter 260: Neutral
Finch sank into his seat, a small, satisfied smile curling across his lips as he observed Ryaen acknowledge his greeting. Her subtle nod, though brief, carried a weight that made the gesture feel significant. Following him, William greeted her with equal propriety, his tone polite yet firm. Despite having encountered her earlier, William didn’t even dare consider himself friends with Ryaen; she remained the heir to a Duchy, and he to a Barony. Courtesy and respect were thus not optional, they were required.

Though the Star Academy did not segregate students based on imperial rank, instead prioritizing power above all else, first-year students were still new to its intricacies. They had only recently been admitted and remained mindful of social etiquette and the importance of acknowledging those of higher status, whether noble or exceptionally skilled. Greeting someone like Ryaen properly was as much a matter of survival within the Academy’s unspoken hierarchies as it was of decorum.

“So, it seems you’ve become a superstar of some sort,” Ryaen Silvershade’s voice cut through the ambient noise, echoing with both amusement and a faint undertone of playfulness. “Or should I call you a Hero now? Perhaps a Hero sent by a god to save the world of Crymora from its inevitable end.”

Although her words rang clear and confident, she did not look directly at anyone in particular, nor did she address anyone by name. But William and Finch were certain that she was not speaking to them, the weight of her tone carrying a directed purpose.

Asher’s purple eyes turned toward her, calm and unshaken. “I don’t follow,” he replied smoothly. Of course, he understood the meaning of her words; he had already suspected as much. Still, verbal confirmation was necessary to clarify, if only to ensure that his thoughts aligned with actuality.

“Hoo… You didn’t know?” Ryaen’s black eyes finally left the podium and met Asher’s gaze directly. “Your name has been spreading among some of our lower-ranked classmates. They speak of you as one who saved them, and now many regard you as their savior.”

To Ryaen, the very notion of waiting for someone else to save you was naive. People should rise for themselves, carve their own path, and claim their own victories. The idea of a ‘hero’ waiting to intervene on behalf of the helpless seemed foolish to her. But, she was not so arrogant as to ignore the reality that not everyone possessed talent on par with her own. Some people genuinely required help, and she understood that some admiration, even if naive, was inevitable.

“A hero, huh?” Asher murmured, more to himself than to anyone else. Ryaen’s words merely confirmed what he had already suspected.

He did not see himself as a hero, nor did he consider himself a villain.

If he were to classify himself according to the novels he had once read in his previous life on Earth, he would have labeled himself neutral. His actions were dictated by desire and circumstance rather than moral obligation. He acted when he wished, and only when he deemed it necessary or beneficial.

His decision to save those students four days prior, during the apocalypse, had been no exception. He had intervened because he had wanted to and because he could do so without risking his own life. Had a really powerful opponent been present, capable of threatening his survival, he would have walked away without hesitation.

He did not concern himself with saving strangers at the expense of his own well-being; to do so would have been, in his view, foolish. Heroics of that nature, sacrificing one’s life to protect random strangers, or even a stray animal during battle, were the hallmarks of overdramatic, naive individuals, the sort whose adventures filled the pages of trivial stories.

Asher was not such a person.

At the same time, however, he was no villain. He did not strike out at those who looked at him the wrong way, nor did he punish those who failed to recognize his status as a Ducal heir. Such behavior was the domain of the deranged and the edgy, the type of villain beloved by fiction but unworthy of reality. Asher operated on his own rules: he would save someone if he chose to, and if his life were genuinely threatened in doing so, he would retreat without even a moment of hesitation.

His thoughts drifted back to Ryaen’s words, particularly her mention of a god sending him as a hero to save the world of Crymora. He had considered such notions in the past, during fleeting moments of reflection on his transmigration. Cliched tales in which a Hero appeared to defeat Demon Kings and save the world had often occupied his imagination. Though demons and Demon Kings did exist in this world, the premise felt fundamentally the same: one central figure placed upon a stage of extraordinary events.

Yet, no god had appeared to him in his new life. No personalized system had been bestowed upon him, no mission dictated by divine authority, no miraculous ability to propel him into heroism. Had such a being appeared, he would have requested overwhelming power, a broken and overpowered system, and the ability to bend circumstances to his will. After all, why should he toil and suffer when the rules of this world could bend to his command?

‘Saving the world… huh?’ Asher mused silently, though he did not dwell on the thought. He understood the practicalities of such a role. Were a threat capable of ending the world to arise, he would not flee. Standing at the front of the battle, facing the impossibility, was simply rational. Running would be pointless if the danger could erase everything, stupidity in its purest form.

Could he hide in the Separate Dimension? Asher’s knowledge of spatial manipulation was not yet sufficient to fully comprehend such a possibility. Still, he was aware that the Separate Dimension required Crymora itself as an anchor. Without the world’s presence, it could not exist, meaning that things like Emovirae and Astra could penetrate it. Thus, even hiding was not even a solution.

He shook his head to dispel the spiral of overthinking. If the students perceived him as some heroic savior, they would soon realize their expectations were misplaced. He had no intention of wandering the halls, rescuing every individual who looked to him for salvation. That was an unpaid job, one that offered neither reward nor incentive.

Perhaps, should the system present such a mission alongside an absurdly high reward, he might be motivated. Until then, his actions would remain dictated by his own desires and assessments of necessity. The world’s fate, heroes, and gods could wait. Asher acted according to his own accord, always had, always would.