Caldor Rivelle stood upon the horizontal stretch of the fortified wall, his gaze locked upon the figure suspended high above in the sky, a being who seemed to stand as though he were a god himself. His throat tightened as he swallowed hard, the enormity of what he witnessed leaving him utterly speechless. Shock, awe, disbelief, all swirled within him in chaotic unison at such an overwhelming display of power.
Just the night before, his father and mother, Baron Rivelle and Lady Eleanor, had advised him with utmost seriousness to forge as many meaningful connections as possible with the Tenth Sun. And if that proved too difficult, they had instructed that he at least strengthen his ties with William and Finch.
He had heard the tales, countless stories whispered and sung across the Zarethorne Empire, of the Wargrave family, a lineage revered and feared alike, known to all as a family of battle-born monsters. Their feats were the stuff of legend. Caldor had once attended and participated in the Star Academy's battle examination, where he had caught a glimpse of the Tenth Sun's power firsthand.
Even then, he had recognized the immense chasm that separated them, for Asher Wargrave had dominated that examination, securing first place with an overwhelming and almost humiliating gap between himself and the rest.
And yet… that same Tenth Sun had now unleashed an attack of such devastating magnitude that Caldor could not fathom matching it, not even in few years. He found himself wondering, almost fearfully, whether Asher was truly the same age as him.
'No… there's no way,' he thought, his mind struggling to accept what his eyes beheld. To him, there was simply no possible way that this monster in human form was only eighteen years of age. Even if Asher bore the name of Wargrave, even if he carried the blood of that famed family, this level of power was simply too absurd to comprehend.
After all, if every Wargrave possessed such unimaginable strength, then why had they not already seized control of the entire Empire itself?
'How am I supposed to build a connection with someone like this?' Caldor thought despairingly. He understood that in order to form a connection with someone of higher standing, there had to exist at least a semblance of equality, a foundation upon which mutual respect could be built. Yet he, Caldor Rivelle, possessed none of that. He was not powerful enough, not gifted enough, not significant enough.
Yes, he was a noble, but so too was the Tenth Sun. However, the disparity between a Duke's heir and that of a Baron was akin to the distance between heaven and earth. In the simplest of terms, neither he nor the entire Rivelle family held the qualifications necessary to align themselves with the Tenth Sun, much less form a true connection.
The best they could hope for, their most ambitious dream, was to leave behind an impression so faint yet memorable that perhaps, someday, Asher might recall their names.
'Beautiful,' he thought silently. He had witnessed far more devastating attacks in his life, those unleashed by his father or the family's Knight Commander, yet something about this one captivated him. Perhaps it was not simply the destruction itself, but the sheer artistry behind it.
'That leaves only one path, strengthening my connection with William and Finch,' Caldor mused grimly, forcing his mind away from the unattainable and back toward the practical. His gaze drifted from the figure in the sky to the monstrous creatures clinging to the same wall upon which he stood, defying gravity in grotesque defiance.
Asher Wargrave, the Tenth Sun, hovered above the ruined city, his purple eyes sweeping across the devastation he had wrought upon the Rivelle Barony. Yet within that gaze was no remorse, no hesitation. He had come not to preserve buildings or walls, but to save lives.
The preservation of structures was irrelevant, they could always be rebuilt. And with the number of earth-element ability users present, it would take only a handful of manipulations before the terrain was restored to its former state.
'A pity I couldn't extend beyond two hundred meters,' he reflected, expressionless though his eyes gleamed with silent calculation. He had been capable of expanding his attack range farther, but doing so would have risked striking his own allies, the knights, adventurers, mercenaries, and guards who fought valiantly below. Friendly fire, especially of this magnitude, would have been catastrophic.
Then, as though the world itself had been paused in reverence of his display, time suddenly resumed.
RROOOAAARRR!!! SSSHHHHRRIIIEEEKKK!!!
The air split with thunderous sound as a chorus of monstrous roars erupted across the battlefield. The air trembled, then burst outward like an overfilled balloon as the sheer volume of it shattered the silence. The beasts screamed their defiance, their fury boiling, as though refusing to yield before this godlike human.
But Asher paid them no heed. He had no interest in intimidation, no desire to frighten them into retreat. His purpose was singular, complete annihilation. Nothing more, nothing less.
Though he was completely drained of Astra, his composure did not waver. He did not pant, nor did he stumble. The color in his face faded only slightly, as even in exhaustion, his Absolute Physique would not allow him to appear weak or vulnerable.
Still floating high above, Asher called upon the ability of his weapon, Virelass, and activated one of its cheat-like abilities: Astra Veil. Virelass was capable of storing up to thirty percent of his Astra reserves independently, feeding it back to him whenever the situation demanded. And given the sheer vastness of Asher's Astra pool, that thirty percent was nothing short of overwhelming.
Almost instantly, Astra energy began to flow, subtle yet potent, from Virelass into his body, coursing through his Astra veins like liquid fire. It was one of the many reasons Asher loved this ability so deeply: the transfer was completely undetectable. No fluctuations, no energy signature, nothing to betray the process. The faint pallor of his skin vanished, replaced by the calm radiance of control.
Meanwhile, Virelass continued her work in silence, drawing upon the ambient Astra from the air itself, siphoning and storing it to replenish what had been spent. She did so instinctively, ensuring that when Asher required her again, she would be ready.
All around him, the chaos resumed in full. The monstrous army that had momentarily faltered in awe now surged once more. Yet within a two-hundred-meter radius surrounding Asher, the oppressive pressure that had blanketed the city eased, if only slightly. The citizens and soldiers within that space gasped in relief, their bodies freed for the briefest of moments from the suffocating weight of his attack.
Without hesitation, Asher moved. His form vanished in a flicker streak of blue light, teleportation. In the next instant, he reappeared across another sector of the city, another glowing foothold of energy materializing beneath his feet as he hovered in the air once more.
He knew he could not afford to unleash another attack of the same magnitude. His remaining Astra reserves were too precious to waste.
Thus, he shifted strategies. This time, brute force would not be his weapon. Instead, Asher Wargrave, the Tenth Sun, turned to something far more calculated, far more essential in the heat of the battle.
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