Cleaver Of Sin

Chapter 671: Imperial Decree-1

While Asher was eating and sipping his wine as though he were set to inherit the Zarethorne Empire itself, in another room, Azaron and Zarek could be seen engaged in conversation, their discussion unfolding beneath a vastly different atmosphere from the calm indulgence Asher enjoyed.

Zarek had a tired expression on his face as he looked at the illusion playing before him, Azaron pausing the illusion at intervals to explain every detail to him as though he, Zarek, personally could not see or understand what was happening within the illusion itself, despite the clarity of what was being displayed.

’Urgh... I might need to give birth so I can brag back to this man,’ Zarek thought to himself, inwardly groaning.

He had only come here to inform Azaron that an Imperial decree had arrived, and that had been hours ago, yet Azaron had said that it could wait and had instead spent the past hours boasting about Asher through the illusion with fatherly enthusiasm.

’The last time he boasted this much was during Malrik’s early days. Although he would have boasted about Apollo too, thank the stars that boy is far too lazy to give him such opportunities,’ Zarek thought to himself, his tired expression completely unhidden.

While he was always ready and even willing to listen to Azaron boast about his children, it was certainly not for this long, nor to the extent that it stretched into hours without pause. He had arrived around 2pm, and now it was already dark outside; the sun had long since disappeared, replaced by the silent glow of the moon.

’Besides, since when did he even create an illusion-based skill?’ Zarek thought to himself, a hint of curiosity slipping through his fatigue. Just like Malrik, Azaron had never been one to create illusion-based abilities with his light affinity, as both of them had never needed such subtlety for anything and had simply brute-forced their way through obstacles with overwhelming power.

’But regardless, the Tenth Sun remains the greatest monster Azaron has ever produced,’ Zarek thought to himself, acknowledging the undeniable truth of it, even if it came wrapped in Azaron’s endless boasting.

Soon, Azaron was done explaining and boasting, finally allowing the illusion to fade as he sat down with a proud expression firmly etched onto his face, as though he had just presented an irrefutable masterpiece.

"Are you done?" Zarek asked flatly as he stared at Azaron with his black eyes, his tone carrying no attempt to mask his exhaustion.

Azaron merely nodded without a word, his expression unchanged.

Seeing Azaron’s nod, Zarek spoke, "As I was saying before we got sidetracked, an Imperial decree has arrived."

Azaron’s expression immediately shifted to one of indifference as he spoke, "Read it to me."

Zarek shook his head slightly, "I do not have it on me. Emperor Zolthemir Lux Vanthelmor sent an Imperial representative who is supposed to read it to you; he has been waiting for hours," he explained, a faint sigh escaping his lips as he spoke.

"I see... it is good that I took care of important matters first," Azaron spoke, clearly referring to his prolonged boasting session as something of greater importance than an Imperial decree itself.

Zarek simply shook his head in response, unable to help the faint sense of sympathy he felt for the Emperor. He understood that previously, while Azaron and the Emperor were not exactly friends, since Azaron was not truly friends with anyone to begin with, they were at least acquaintances who could sit together and drink once in a blue moon, or exchange words when they met at noble gatherings or Imperial functions.

’Too bad I did not get to fight. I would have preferred to kill a few Imperial Knights myself,’ Zarek thought to himself as he too stood at the Radiant Crownstar Life Rank, a level where battles were both rare and meaningful.

"Let us go," Azaron rose to his feet, he did not need Zarek to tell him where the Imperial representative was, as he could already sense the man’s presence from within his office.

With that, Azaron and Zarek walked towards the meeting chamber where the Imperial representative was waiting. After making a few turns within the long, silent hallways of the estate, they arrived at their destination. Zarek opened the door, and Azaron stepped in without a word, his expression carved from stone, devoid of any visible emotions or thoughts.

The Imperial representative, upon hearing the door open, immediately turned his head towards it, his heartbeat beginning to rise as an inexplicable unease crept across his skin. The moment Azaron stepped into the room, the air itself seemed to grow heavy and suffocating, as though the very space within the chamber tightened upon itself in silent dread.

The Imperial representative swallowed in fear as his body instinctively screamed at him to leave, every fibre of his being rejecting the oppressive presence before him. He could tell that Azaron was not actively unleashing his aura or exerting any form of pressure; this was merely Azaron’s passive state of existence, a natural state that did not require intent.

The Imperial representative could not help but swallow hard as he watched Azaron take his seat opposite him with an indifferent expression, as though none of this held any significance. Zarek walked forward and stood behind Azaron as his ever-loyal right-hand man.

’How is this man at the Crownstar Life Rank like the rest of us?’ he could not help but think to himself, as Azaron’s mere existence alone made him feel like a child standing before something incomprehensible, despite him being a Crownstar Life Ranker himself, albeit not yet at the Radiant sub-Life Rank.

"Read," Azaron’s voice came, a single word that carried the weight of a command rather than a request, his tone cutting cleanly through the tension in the room and breaking the Imperial representative out of his spiralling thoughts.

The Imperial representative did not dare to hesitate. If Azaron could attack and dare attempt to kill the Emperor himself, then who was he, a mere messenger, that could not be erased in an instant should he delay?

He immediately unfurled a scroll, upon which all Imperial decrees were inscribed, each bearing the Imperial seal that could only be used by the Emperor.

With steadying breath, he began to read out the Emperor’s words, striving to keep his voice as composed and neutral as possible despite the pressure weighing upon him.

---

To Duke Azaron Wargrave,

Though steel was drawn between us not long ago, the affairs of the Zarethorne Empire do not bend to personal discord. The Empire endures, and so too does your duty within it. You remain a Duke beneath the Imperial Throne, and your obligations are unchanged.

During the course of our recent conflict, eight Noble Houses have nearly fallen under assault by the Vandross Empire, each almost brought to the brink of annihilation. Such an affront cannot be met with silence nor delay.

By my decree, an Imperial Assembly shall be convened at first light tomorrow. In light of the circulating whispers and unrest, this gathering shall take place within your own domain, the Wargrave Ducal Territory.

By the will of the Imperial Throne.

---

The moment the Imperial representative was done, he immediately rose to his feet and spoke, "I will be taking my leave, Duke Azaron." Without waiting for a reply, he spun on his heel and walked away. Although he tried to maintain a composed pace, he still ended up walking faster than usual, unable to suppress the urgency driving his steps.

And so, in the depth of the night, father and son, Azaron and Asher, had each sent two men back to their homes, both leaving the Wargrave territory in quiet fear of what might befall them should they remain any longer within its overwhelming presence, where power alone dictated the very air one breathed.