CLEAVER OF SIN - Chapter 439

Chapter 439: A Feint
Rachael’s small feet crossed the distance between her and Asher within a single second, her rapier streaking forward as she aimed for Asher’s knees without a single moment of hesitation in her attack. The blade cut through the air with ease, its trajectory clean and merciless. Asher didn’t move from his spot. His own rapier lifted calmly, intercepting her strike with the gentle ease of a master who had performed the motion countless times before.

The clash of steel rang softly through the training chamber. Yet Rachael was not deterred in the slightest. Almost instantly, she moved again, her stance shifting fluidly as her rapier tore upward toward Asher’s chin, her small hands rising with deadly intent. The attack was lethal, calculated to end a fight in a single instant, but Asher remained expressionless as he blocked it once more, as though it were the simplest thing in the world.

Asher could feel the power, speed, force, and countless hours of practice embedded within each swing. Every movement carried intent. Every strike held purpose. He found it difficult to believe that such a young girl could possess so many refined characteristics at such an early age. Her footwork was good, her timing nearly excellent, and her control unsettlingly too good.

‘Is she the reincarnation of some rapier goddess or something?’ Asher thought to himself, his gaze never leaving her form. He could not even begin to understand how her small body could pack such tremendous force behind her attacks. Of course, to him, her strength was nothing noteworthy; he was merely judging from the perspective of a nine year old child. Even a genius, even a prodigy, should not possess this level of finesse, speed, and power at such an age.

‘Of course, there are still flaws in her attacks, and her small body limits the range of her strikes,’ Asher assessed silently as he blocked yet another thrust with calm ease. He neither retreated nor advanced, maintaining perfect balance as though rooted to the ground.

At this moment, Rachael no longer seemed like Rachael at all. She did not smile. She did not speak. She did not laugh, giggle, or pout as she normally would. There was no trace of childish innocence left on her face. She simply attacked. It was as though she understood the human body better than most adults, as every single strike she delivered was aimed at a vital point, targeting joints, arteries, and organs capable of inflicting lethal or permanently crippling damage.

Her beautiful blue eyes were completely expressionless as she moved. Her speed suddenly increased, her form blurring as she left from Asher’s sight and appeared behind him in the next second. Her rapier tore toward his spine, angled precisely as though she intended to cripple him forever. Asher did not even bother to turn around. His arm moved backward with effortless control, parrying the attack with gentle care.

He did not dare put strength into his blocks or counters. He merely assessed her power and speed, perfectly matching them without exceeding her limits.

Rachael jumped backward, placing distance between herself and Asher. Her right leg drew forward, her posture aligning into a textbook fencing stance, balanced and poised. Then, in another blur, she moved again. She appeared before Asher within a single second, and within the span of two seconds, she unleashed a barrage of fifteen rapid thrusts. Each strike tore in a different direction, weaving an intricate pattern of steel, as though she intended to force Asher to take even a single step.

Still, the chasm between her and Asher was indescribable.

As the attacks closed in, Asher parried them all with the same smooth motion. To him, both literally and metaphorically, the strikes were child’s play. His feet remained planted in the same spot, unmoving, as though shifting even an inch would mean losing the spar by default.

Rachael leaped into the air, her rapier singing sharply as it descended toward Asher’s purple eye. This time, Asher did not even bother to parry. He simply tilted his head slightly to the side. The blade sliced through empty air, passing exactly where his eye had been a fraction of a second earlier. Gravity reclaimed Rachael, pulling her back down to the earth. The instant her feet touched the floor, she was already moving again, her blade snapping toward Asher’s achilles heel with ruthless motion.

Asher moved to intercept, but at that exact moment, Rachael’s blade shifted mid-motion, her wrist twisting sharply as her target changed from his leg to his torso.

‘A feint,’ Asher thought as he watched the attack close in on his torso. ‘Such talent,’ he mused inwardly as he parried with gentle care, redirecting the strike effortlessly. He did not retaliate. This spar was not meant for him to dominate her. It was Rachael’s moment, a chance for her to show her older brother the progress she had made.

The sounds of clashing steel continued to echo throughout the training chamber as Rachael darted around him from every conceivable angle. She attacked every opening she believed existed, striking at what she perceived as blind spots. Her speed was superb, her attacking force surreal for her age, and her foundational technique outright outrageous for someone who had not yet even awakened, let alone a nine year old child.

Minutes passed in this endless exchange. Eventually, Rachael took a few steady steps backward, placing distance between herself and Asher. Her chest rose and fell heavily as she struggled to catch her breath. No matter how talented she was, time remained her greatest enemy.

She still needed years to grow. She was still a little girl with limited stamina. Yet even so, her endurance was astonishing. For several minutes straight, she had unleashed one high-speed, forceful attack after another without pause, all while constantly repositioning and maintaining pressure.

Sweat covered her face as she stared at Asher without blinking, as though she believed that the moment she looked away, he would close the distance between them. She worked to steady her breathing, refusing to let her guard down. Asher did not move. He remained where he stood, silently waiting, though his mind was far from empty.

‘How can Finch be related to this girl?’ Asher thought incredulously. ‘He really has to be adopted.’

His gaze remained fixed on Rachael as his thoughts continued to shift. ‘Can any nine year old even defeat this girl?’ he wondered. Yes, she had flaws, many of them, but that was to be expected. She lacked real battle experience, and her body had not yet matured. Still, what she had displayed was more than enough to shock him nonetheless.

‘Does she have some kind of split personality disorder or something?’ he joked internally, unable to reconcile the fierce child warrior standing before him with the cute, cheerful Rachael he knew prior to this moment.

‘And she will only continue to become more monstrous with age,’ Asher thought, a faint trace of anticipation flickering through his mind. ‘Now I’m actually looking forward to her fifteenth birthday.’

He knew that what Rachael was displaying now was nothing more than a fraction, a mere glimpse, of the ridiculous talent that would fully awaken when she reached the age of fifteen.

‘Will she be able to break through on the same day I did?’ Asher wondered, already placing her on an exceptionally high pedestal within his mind.

‘I wonder what Life Rank I’ll be at by then as well,’ he thought quietly, his gaze still locked on the small girl standing before him, breathing hard yet unbroken.