CLEAVER OF SIN

'It seems we've arrived at the Whale Barony territory,' Asher thought to himself, his certainty growing with every passing second. He had already visited the Canestane Barony, and the memory of its towering, imposing walls was still fresh in his mind. The wall before him now was unmistakably different, same height, broader, and more ornate in its construction. There could be no mistake; this was indeed the Whale Barony.

"Finch, you seem to be getting lucky every time," William remarked with a light smile, his eyes glinting with amusement. Less than twenty-four hours ago, they had been discussing Finch's family and the possibility of visiting the Whale Barony if time allowed it after their second teamed mission. Ironically, their next mission had begun precisely at the Whale Barony, as if fortune itself had conspired to place them here.

"Asher," Finch said, his voice tinged with warmth, "welcome to the Whale Barony." He smiled broadly, the kind of smile that carried both pride and quiet satisfaction. William, observing the scene, couldn't help but consider that luck, or perhaps destiny, was subtly guiding their steps. He thought of the supply transport escort mission he had been assigned, realizing that luck had played a hand in leading them all here.

At that moment, the trio hovered above the ground, still some distance away from the city. One by one, they removed the devices that had kept them suspended in midair. As their feet finally touched the earth, a gentle surge of motion propelled them forward, and within moments, they arrived before a long queue of people patiently waiting to enter the city.

Much like their previous visit to the Rivelle Barony, they ignored the line and strode confidently to the front. As usual, murmurs of discontent and the sharp clicks of tongues followed them, but no one dared to voice their complaints aloud.

Questions of fear and speculation circulated in the crowd, what if these three were powerful enough to kill anyone who opposed them? And if they were merely ordinary, surely the guards would handle the situation. So the crowd held its breath, watching and waiting for the guards' reaction.

One of the guards, tasked with checking the IDs and city permits of the incoming visitors, was about to shout at the apparent line cutters. But the moment he looked directly at the group, his expression froze. His mouth opened, yet no words escaped. Without hesitation, he fell to one knee, bowing deeply.

"I greet the Younger Master," he said, his voice both sharp and respectful, carrying across the queue so that everyone present could hear. Shock and astonishment rippled through the crowd as realization struck: the fat boy in front of them was no ordinary visitor, he was the Whale Barony heir. Relief washed over the onlookers; had they spoken inappropriately, the consequences would have been dire.

Other guards stationed at the massive gate rushed forward, bowing before Finch in unison. A broad, self-satisfied smile spread across Finch's face, his chest rising in playful pride as he glanced at Asher, as if silently boasting, "Look at this, even the city bends to me." Asher, recognizing Finch's gaze, merely shook his head with a soft smile, choosing silence over comment.

"No need to be so tense," Finch said, his tone casual yet tinged with authority. "I'm only here for a Star Academy mission." He brushed past the guards, who continued their bows, their deference unwavering.

"Young Master, wait," one guard called out immediately, halting Finch in his tracks. William and Asher stopped as well, curiosity and intrigue painted across their faces.

"What is it?" Finch asked calmly, maintaining the composure of a noble accustomed to obedience.

"There is a carriage nearby, Young Master. There is no need to walk," the guard replied, bowing once more.

"No need," Finch countered with a small smile. "I'm faster than an Enduron horse. Return to your duties, and do not inform my father, or anyone, of my presence. I intend to surprise them myself."

"Your words are my command, Young Master," the guard intoned, bowing one last time before retreating. Finch nodded, a faint smile on his lips, and continued into the Whale Barony, thoughts of seeing his younger sister warming him from within. Asher and William followed, shadows to his imposing figure.

"Did you hear that? He is the Young Lord of the Whale Barony! Thank the stars I held my tongue, my daughter might have become an orphan today," muttered a man in the crowd, his eyes wide with awe.

"Didn't you hear? He is here on a mission for the Star Academy," another interjected, equally astonished.

"Who would have thought the Young Lord was talented enough to enter the Star Academy?" a woman whispered, recalling her own dreams, long unfulfilled, of attending the prestigious institution.

"I heard the Young Lord is extremely lazy; perhaps that's why he has a weird body," said another man, barely realizing the weight his words carried.

No sooner had the words left the man's lips than an overwhelming presence descended upon him. His knees buckled, meeting the earth with a thunderous impact that cracked the ground beneath him. Terror gripped him from head to toe, every nerve screaming as a heavy, silent pressure closed in.

The man lifted his gaze and met the eyes of a guard advancing toward him, black eyes cutting through the air like icy blades. Immediately, those nearby stepped back, unwilling to be involved in the unfolding judgment.

"You dare insult the Young Master's body?" the guard asked, his voice colder than winter frost. The man swallowed, realizing his grave error, but before he could respond, the crushing weight of the presence increased and forced him to the ground on all fours. He was unawakened, powerless against even a Faintstar Life Rank guard, the weakest of Life Rankers, and could only brace himself.

The guard said nothing further. With a swift, merciless motion, he swung his axe, decapitating the man in a single, horrifying stroke. Blood spattered against the earth, the body collapsing with a heavy thud, the severed head rolling toward the guard's feet. He halted it with a precise step, crushing it underfoot like an overripe melon.

The guard's eyes swept over the remaining onlookers. Every one of them flinched, none daring to meet his gaze. Without a word, he turned and returned to his post, leaving silence, and a profound lesson, in his wake.

Here in the world of Crymora, death was a common, unquestioned reality. People were killed for slights, for errors, for mere chance. Survival depended on awakening one's power, or else being consumed by those stronger than oneself.