CLEAVER OF SIN
Chapter 104: Head

Chapter 104: Head

The swirling dust storm began to settle with an eerie calmness, as though savoring each passing moment. From within the thinning veil of dust, two towering figures gradually emerged into view, each standing no less than eight feet tall.

Both exuded an overwhelming presence, their broad shoulders silhouetted against the fading storm. One bore crimson eyes and jet-black hair, with dark threads coursing visibly through his body as he stood in quiet stillness. The other possessed glacial blue eyes and hair, his posture relaxed, calm, untouched by the chaos around him.

They were none other than Orvak; the Sinvaira of Carnage, and Malrik Wargrave; the First Sun.

Malrik stood effortlessly, grasping Orvak’s wrist as if it were the simplest task in the world. His other hand remained casually tucked into his pocket.

"Hey, sis. I let you have your fun, so don’t whine to me now that I showed up to save you," he said, his voice calm and unhurried, yet it carried clearly to Wuthenya’s ears.

She stood frozen in disbelief, staring at him.

’How?’

She couldn’t fathom how her brother had arrived so swiftly. It made no sense, especially considering her personal maid had been sent to her private manor, not the Wargrave estate, where Malrik was supposed to be.

"Hoo... the First Sun, Malrik Wargrave. At last, we meet," Orvak said with a faint smirk, unbothered that his attack had been so effortlessly halted. "As expected, you never fail to meddle in matters that don’t concern you."

To him, it was of no matter that Malrik had actually stopped his attack. That strike hadn’t even approached his true speed. And even if, by some miracle, Malrik could match him blow for blow, so be it, such things only added to the thrill. After all, he was the Sinvaira of Carnage. It was in the heart of chaos, in battles of the highest caliber, that he truly came alive.

"Ehh... I didn’t know the Sinvairas were keeping tabs on me," Malrik replied, his voice as composed as ever, the faint curve of a smile lingering on his lips. "Should I feel honored that such beings deem me worthy of notice, or tremble in fear beneath such presence?"

"Brother, let’s face him together," Wuthenya said, rising to her feet, her twin daggers flashing back into her grasp like silver streaks of moonlight. Battle intent burned in her eyes. "This being... he stands beyond Rank 10."

But before she could take a single step forward, Malrik raised a hand slightly and spoke, his tone calm yet resolute. "Forgive me, sister. But we can’t face this one together. You’d only hold me back. I suggest you take a few steps back, this isn’t a battle you’re meant to join."

Wuthenya froze mid-step as Malrik’s words echoed in her ears. She had no response, not because she disagreed, but because, deep down, she understood. Once, when they were younger, she and Malrik had fought side by side, overwhelming beasts and monsters with the seamless coordination only siblings could share.

But that time had long passed.

Things were different now.

She felt no anger at his words. He hadn’t said them to wound her, and she didn’t take them as such. Instead, she acknowledged the truth of them. Though she was a powerhouse in her own right, strength was a relative thing. In the presence of titans; her father, Azeron, or even the Emperor, her might paled. These were beings who grazed the ceiling of power in Crymora. And Orvak... he was of the same breed.

Without hesitation, Wuthenya vanished. The sound barrier shattered with a sharp crack as she blurred backward, crossing kilometers in the blink of an eye. She understood, if she stayed, she would only get in the way.

"Is the family bonding time over?" Orvak drawled, his voice laced with mockery. "Because I need your attention squarely on me, First Sun."

He emphasized the title with a sneer, deliberately twisting it, just as he had with Second Moon, each time spoken like a private joke at the siblings’ expense.

He didn’t wait for Malrik’s response.

With explosive force, Orvak’s fist rocketed forward like a bullet train, aimed directly at Malrik’s face. The smile vanished from Malrik’s lips in an instant. He shifted effortlessly, his body gliding to the side with calm composure, releasing Orvak’s wrist in the same fluid motion.

BOOM

The sheer force of Orvak’s strike ruptured the air behind them, detonating the ground in a shockwave of raw power.

But Malrik didn’t flinch. He countered immediately, his knee flashing upward like a blur of vengeance, driving toward the Sinvaira’s side with razor-sharp precision and lethal intent.

But Orvak twisted his body with impossible grace, slipping past the incoming knee at an angle that defied logic. He didn’t pause. He didn’t hesitate. In the same seamless motion, he transitioned from evasion to offense, his hand snapping forward like a spear, fingers pointed and aimed unerringly for Malrik’s throat.

Malrik’s form dissolved into a blur. The very air at his previous position buckled and shattered, the wind barrier collapsing under the pressure of his departure. Orvak’s senses flared, scanning instinctively, left, right, behind, but Malrik was nowhere in sight.

Then, just for a fleeting instant, Orvak saw him.

Malrik stood atop his head, hands casually tucked into his pockets, his calm presence a direct contrast to the chaos around them. Orvak didn’t react with surprise, only motion. His form flickered, vanishing into a streak of movement as he reappeared above, attempting to reverse the maneuver, now aiming to perch atop Malrik’s head.

But Malrik was already gone.

He had returned to his prior position atop Orvak, the same infuriating calm in his posture, as if the laws of movement didn’t apply to him.

They both smiled.

In the next moment, afterimages filled the night like echoes of lightning. The battlefield turned surreal. Their bodies blurred and flickered across the terrain, first at subsonic speeds, then accelerating into the supersonic, before effortlessly tearing into hypersonic bursts. Each movement was a test, a taunt, a game of godlike reflexes. Like titans playing tag beneath a sky too slow to follow.

Wuthenya’s black eyes darted desperately, trying to track the movements of the two monsters before her, but it was futile. Even her own speed surpassed the sound barrier, but it offered no advantage here. They existed in a realm far beyond that threshold.

Her lunar energy flared instinctively, wrapping around her form in soft silver radiance. It surged into her eyes, sharpening her perception to its utmost limits. Time seemed to slow... but even then, she saw nothing. Only flickers. Flashes. Echoes of motion.

All she could perceive were the aftershocks, the sound of shattering earth, the howling collapse of displaced wind, each one announcing that Malrik and Orvak had already moved again. And again.

Then they broke into the realm of re-entry speed, velocities at which meteors tear through the sky. The world around them seemed to smear, reality itself struggling to maintain coherence against their godlike pace.

This was her chance, her only chance, to glean something. Anything. A stance, a rhythm, a flaw. But no matter how hard she focused, how much energy she poured into perception...

She couldn’t keep up.

Orvak and Malrik collided, no weapons, no techniques, just raw, unrestrained power in the form of flesh and will. Their bodies slammed into one another with bone-shattering force, yet their smiles never wavered.

They locked eyes in that instant, crimson clashing against cerulean. Neither blinked. Neither yielded. In their gaze was a silent declaration: You cannot surpass me.

Each believed themselves the pinnacle. Each believed the other would fall.

And then;

They vanished, not in a blur but in a blip as though existence itself momentarily forgot them.