CLEAVER OF SIN - Chapter 379

Chapter 379: Black
“I will take him on. It seems he is strong, no wonder two of us were dispatched for a single mission,” one of the assassins said. His codename: Black.

The other, known as Blue, simply nodded and replied, “I will keep an eye on the others. If they cannot complete their mission without our interference, then they might as well quit being assassins altogether.”

Black did not answer. He merely vanished from the treetop, his figure dissolving like a shadow swallowed by deeper darkness. Though his face remained hidden behind his white mask, the coldness radiating from him was unmistakable. His killing intent poured off him like a suffocating tide. One thing was certain, he did not intend to leave this place until Norman breathed his final breath.

Norman, however, did not reciprocate the killing intent. If he directed murderous pressure at every person who wanted to challenge him to the death, then he might as well establish an entire office dedicated to handling such encounters. It was simply too common an occurrence in his life to waste emotional energy on.

He stood calmly, his silver katana held loosely but ready to strike at a moment’s notice. Black studied Norman for several seconds, analyzing every detail he could perceive. He already had a rough understanding of Norman’s ability after witnessing it used a few times.

Suddenly, a small sphere slipped from Black’s hand. The moment it hit the ground, it burst with a soft yet abrupt explosion. Instantly, a dense white smoke surged upward, swallowing the surroundings in an opaque haze and erasing visibility completely. Sight was drowned, and the world turned white.

Norman’s eyes immediately shifted toward the carriage behind him, instinctively checking its position. But the moment he did, his calm expression sharpened. The carriage was gone.

His brow furrowed deeply. ‘What happened? How could it vanish without a trace?’

‘Did someone from the team take it?’ he wondered, but he had no time to contemplate. A streak of motion sliced through the smoke, Black was already upon him. A short sword tore toward his ribs, its speed monstrous and precise. Norman reacted purely on instinct, his body twisting sharply to the side as he narrowly evaded the strike.

It became clear to him in that instant: Black had discovered a limitation of his Direction Manipulation. Without sight, Norman could not alter the trajectory of something he could not perceive. His power required visual confirmation; otherwise, it was like trying to move a shadow without light.

But Norman did not panic. This was far from the first time he had entered a battle with his senses restricted. In fact, he had fought and survived far worse.

Steel clashed violently, ringing out through the smoke-filled air. Norman fought purely on reflex, timing, and hard-earned battle instinct. He and Black moved like twin blades of scissors slicing through fabric, rapid, precise, cutting.

‘What is his ability?’ Norman thought as he deflected another swift, deadly strike. By all logic, this dense smoke would have been the perfect opportunity for Black to use his ability freely, especially since Norman could not currently use his Direction Manipulation ability.

After several more exchanges, Norman decided to stop theorizing. Thinking too much in the middle of a lethal confrontation was unnecessary. When the time came, he would adapt, as he always had.

With that thought, he kicked off the ground and propelled himself upward like an arrow shot from a bow. His body tore through the white smoke, finally emerging into clear air beyond the kilometer-wide haze. There was absolutely no reason for him to trap himself within the restrictions his opponent had created.

But Black was not about to let him escape so easily.

The moment Norman leapt skyward, Black switched tactics. He stomped into the earth with terrifying force. The ground within a twenty-meter radius cracked violently, the earth trembling as though a beast stirred beneath it. Then, with explosive power, rocks and boulders catapulted into the air like a hailstorm launched by the heavens themselves.

Without hesitation, Black hurled each projectile toward the airborne Norman.

Norman reacted instantly. His katana became a blur, slicing through stones, rocks, and boulders as easily as a hot blade slicing through soft butter. Shards exploded around him like a meteor shower turned into dust. He did not use his ability. He could already tell what Black was planning, and as if to confirm it, Black suddenly materialized mid-air behind him, precisely at Norman’s blind spot.

But Norman’s battle experience was honed through decades of carnage. The slightest disturbance behind him triggered his instincts. His head snapped back sharply, eyes locking onto Black the moment he appeared.

The instant visual contact was made, Norman activated his ability. Black’s attack veered violently to the side, its trajectory redirected in a split second. At the same time, Norman’s katana flashed toward Black’s neck with lethal accuracy.

Yet Black did not panic. Instead, he smiled, a moment later, Norman’s katana severed Black’s head clean from his shoulders. It flew upward through the air, spinning lazily. But Norman’s expression tightened. He knew instantly, this Black was a fake.

As he landed, the corpse burst into a puff of smoke, dissolving into nothingness. And at that exact moment, the real Black appeared behind Norman once more, his short sword tearing toward Norman’s nape with murderous intensity.

Norman’s instincts screamed. He dropped forward as though blown by a powerful gust, the blade slicing through the air where his neck had been just a breath earlier.

Norman spun with deadly precision, retaliating instantly. His katana carved upward diagonally, a silver streak meant to bisect Black. But Black was prepared. A second weapon materialized in his hand, and he blocked Norman’s strike with expert timing.

Black then stepped back, preparing to disengage, but Norman refused to allow him even a heartbeat of space. He manipulated Black’s direction, forcing him to move forward instead of back, pulling him straight into the path of his next attack. Norman’s katana tore toward Black’s kneecap.

But Black anticipated even this. In the final instant, an Astra shield materialized around his knee, catching the blade with a heavy impact that sent a tremor rushing up Norman’s arm. But Norman barely cared. He shrugged off the shock without concern.

Astra surged into his blade as he struck again, but this time, Black was gone. The moment Norman had broken line of sight, the Direction Manipulation lost its hold, freeing Black from control.

He reappeared atop a nearby tree, posture impeccable, his white mask still pristine as though he had not just exchanged deadly strikes with Norman. His composure was unsettling, the next second,.smoke leaked from his body, twisting and solidifying until four identical clones formed beside him.

Without a word, all four clones shot forward, tearing through the air like spectral phantoms. Originally, Black had intended to catch Norman off guard and eliminate him quickly with a well-placed ability. That plan had failed spectacularly.

Now, he would simply overwhelm him, five against one.

Norman did not hesitate. He did not think. He simply acted, swift, immediate, unstoppable.

_______

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Two more chapters will be coming later today, a replacement for yesterday’s.