CLEAVER OF SIN
Chapter 115: Heap

Chapter 115: Heap

Asher could be seen fast asleep, his body sprawled peacefully across the vast, plush bed. Sun rays filtered into his room gently, their golden light colliding with the thick curtains that refused to grant them full access.

His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, his breathing calm and composed as he slept like a newborn, uncaring, unbothered, and completely free from the burden of unpaid bills or the horrors the world had to offer.

After a bit of tossing and turning beneath the soft covers, he rose into a seated position, his posture slouched and his eyelids drooping heavily. His vision was still blurred with sleep as he sat there, groggy and half-lost in a haze between dreams and wakefulness.

Slowly, he rubbed his eyes with his fingers and released a soft yawn before stretching his body fully, enjoying every second of the relief that came with the stretch.

Following that satisfying stretch, he collapsed back onto the bed with a soft grunt. He had already made up his mind to take things slowly for a day or two. Today was meant to be the final day of his short-lived rest before his rigorous training would resume the next morning.

Although he initially told himself that he would rest for just a day, he had given in to the temptation of comfort and extended it to two. Who knew? Two days might even become a week if he wasn’t careful or disciplined enough.

He lay motionless on the bed, doing absolutely nothing, completely still. This was his designated rest day. There was no reason to get up from bed, no pressing need to bathe early, and certainly no urgent matters demanding his attention.

Though Asher could have simply turned to the wall clock that hung across the room to ascertain the time, he instead chose to rely on his system.

’System, what’s the time?’ he asked internally.

[It is 9:07 a.m. Host]

’The feeling of waking up whenever one wants is indeed the ultimate jackpot in life,’ Asher mused to himself contentedly.

In his past life, he had never been a fan of the infamous 9-to-5 jobs. Those jobs required one to wake early, sleep late, and sacrifice most of their personal freedom. It was exhausting, and he had never found any of it to be enjoyable.

Being a laid-back, self-employed man or woman was, in his opinion, one of the greatest freedoms a person could experience.

"Urgh, my mouth tastes horrible. My morning breath must be absolutely odorous," Asher murmured to himself with a frown.

Although he didn’t want to get out of bed, he had little choice in the matter. Pushing the sheets off, he took the first reluctant step toward the bathroom. Once inside, he brushed his teeth swiftly and washed his face with cold water, jolting himself more fully into consciousness.

’This new room is even more spacious than the last one, and it practically screams extreme nobility,’ Asher thought, looking around in appreciation.

The bathroom alone was the size of the living room in his past life. The contrast between wealth and rich was glaring, and sometimes, almost ridiculous.

Shaking his head with a quiet chuckle, he decided to stop thinking about money for now. After all, he was extremely wealthy at the moment, and that fact alone brought some comfort.

He stepped out of the bathroom with a small towel draped over his head, gently patting his face and hair dry. As he made his way back to the bed, a soft knock echoed from outside the room.

It was his personal maid, Lyra.

Asher had sensed her presence before she had even knocked.

"Come in," Asher said casually.

With a gentle push, the door opened, and Lyra stepped into the room. Her movements were elegant, every step a picture of grace. Her posture was calm and composed as she offered a courteous greeting.

"Good morning, Young Master," she said with a small bow.

"Morning, Lyra," Asher responded simply as he continued drying his hair with the white towel.

"Breakfast is ready, Young Master," Lyra informed him with her usual quiet tone.

That was one of Lyra’s most common lines after greeting him, always reminding him to eat, whether it was morning, afternoon, or evening.

Not that Asher minded. Unlike the fictional characters in the novels he had read, who could go months or even years without food, that sort of absurdity wasn’t a reality in this world. Even legendary figures like Azeron and Malrik still ate regularly.

They were human, after all. Though they could go for a few weeks without sustenance, Astra did not substitute biological needs in any irrational or permanent way.

Moreover, as a young boy who was still growing and training rigorously every single day, Asher required an outrageous amount of food. His body needed every ounce of nutrients it could get.

Within minutes, breakfast was served, and Asher ate with the same silent speed and efficiency as always. After finishing, Lyra cleared the table and stood quietly outside the room once more, waiting for any further instructions.

As Asher sat on the bed, quietly reminiscing about his old friends from his previous life, a thought suddenly occurred to him.

He had money, twenty thousand platinum coins, but he hadn’t given anything to Lyra.

He didn’t know how wealthy Lyra truly was, but even the richest individuals in the world continued to wake up every day to work for more wealth. The hunger for resources and status never really disappeared.

In the six months he had spent in Crymora, Asher noticed that there was no alternative form of currency. In the novels he had read, beings of high power often used rare crystals or unique materials as their own form of private currency, things that symbolized their superiority and separated cultivators from mere mortals.

But that didn’t seem to be the case here. Even those who stood at the pinnacle of strength and authority still used coins, though mostly platinum or gold at the very least.

So whatever resources could be acquired didn’t require special items. Just coins.

With that thought in mind, he called out, "Lyra, come."

Hearing her name, Lyra stepped back into the room. "You called for me, Young Master?"

Asher nodded but remained silent for a moment. He didn’t know how to begin the conversation. He couldn’t just toss a bunch of coins at her. Nor could he outright ask how much she wanted. That would come off as awkward and stupid.

Although Lyra received rewards and payments from the family she served, Asher saw no reason why he couldn’t be generous on his own. With enough resources, Lyra could enhance her strength and perhaps even increase her Life Rank.

After a few seconds of contemplation, Asher decided not to overthink things. He would keep it straightforward and simple.

Rising from the bed, he walked toward the table at the side of the room. With a thought, he commanded the system to bring out ten thousand platinum coins.

With a casual wave of his hand, a heap of shimmering platinum coins materialized on the table, clattering softly as they settled. The light from the window struck their surfaces, causing a silver-black gleam to reflect across the room.

Platinum coins were distinct, black, round, and marked with the emblem of the Empire imprinted firmly on their surface.