’Was it hiding its power, or...’ Azrael looked at the black greatsword in the figure’s hand, which was his Soul Armant and his eyes narrowed.
’It must be the power of the Soul Armant.’
He stared at the black figure without any expression on his face, then sighed and stood up.
’Well, it seems I can’t take it easy anymore.’
As he stood, the energy pathways he had created in his body through the Breathing thod activated, and cosmic energy began to flow toward his feet.
’I still can’t control the cosmic energy since it’s only been a day since I reached the mid-level of breathing thod. But...’
Cosmic energy started to gather at the soles of his feet, and his eyes narrowed.
’I don’t need to control it. I just need to let it run wild... just enough to give an opening to burst out with a powerful move.’
Azrael dashed once again toward the black figure. He unleashed the full effect of his Cold Blooded trait, shutting out all distractions and focusing solely on the battle.
At the sa ti, his Infinite Comprehension trait helped him keep the wild cosmic energy in check— just enough to prevent it from tearing apart his leg muscles.
This ti, Azrael didn’t directly clash with the greatsword. Instead, he skillfully dodged it.
Due to the injury in his right arm, he couldn’t use the full strength of his dagger and was unable to inflict serious damage on the black figure.
He tried to catch it off guard with his throwing dagger, but the black figure was already familiar with Azrael’s tactics and didn’t fall for it.
They fought fiercely for another two minutes, and due to the figure’s enhanced offensive power, Azrael sustained multiple injuries—so deep enough to reveal his bones.
Despite the growing injuries, Azrael’s face remained emotionless as he continued to fight.
’Now’s the ti...’ Azrael suddenly muttered inwardly as he felt more than half of his cosmic energy running wild beneath the soles of his feet.
He dodged an attack by stepping sideways, and his eyes glinted with cold light.
Suddenly, he leaned forward and stomped hard on the ground. At the sa ti, he stopped restraining the wild cosmic energy.
The mont he let it loose, the massive amount of energy gathered beneath his feet went berserk.
Rip!
The soles of his feet instantly burst open, and cosmic energy surged out like a tidal wave.
As his feet pushed down with explosive force, a powerful rebound was generated—and Azrael, who was already leaning forward used the rebound force to shot forward like a bullet.
Everything happened in a split second.
The black figure, still recovering from its last missed swing only felt a sharp wind pass by its body.
The next mont, a head flew into the sky, a fountain of blood erupted from a now-headless body, and Azrael appeared five ters behind it.
His feet were a mangled, bloody ss, and it was difficult for him to even remain standing. His face had gone slightly pale from the effort, but under the influence of the Cold Blooded trait, he showed no sign of pain or hesitation, even though his feet were almost completely ruined.
He slowly turned around and looked at the headless body collapsing into a pool of blood and finally exhaled in relief.
"It worked..." He muttered, a faint smile appearing on his lips as he watched the body dissolve into dots of starlight and vanish from the white space.
Once it disappeared, Azrael turned his attention to the black sword lying on the ground.
He slowly dragged himself forward and stood before the greatsword.
He didn’t pick it up right away. Instead, he used his throwing dagger to strike it a few tis.
When there was no reaction from the sword, he finally bent down and picked it up.
The mont his hand closed around the hilt, he felt the world around him collapse—and when his senses returned, he found himself back in the room where the Soul Armant had originally been chained.
Seeing Azrael’s eyes move, Silas and Ashara—who had been nervously waiting sighed in relief.
"Are you okay?" Ashara asked quickly, rushing forward.
But Azrael didn’t answer imdiately. His attention was locked on the notification flashing before his eyes.
====
> [A Soul Armant wants to form a contract with you]
[Do You Accept?]
➤ [Yes] / [No]
====
Without hesitation, Azrael chose [Yes], and a blinding light erupted from the greatsword, engulfing the entire room.
Azrael felt sothing click into place—sothing becoming a part of his soul and fusing with his very existence.
Suddenly, he felt a weight in his hands, and when the light faded, the black sword that had been bound by chains now rested calmly in his grasp.
A flood of information surged into Azrael’s mind, detailing the sword’s powers and attributes. As the knowledge settled, his eyes lit up with joy.
From behind him, Silas and Ashara watched everything unfold. When they saw the sword in Azrael’s hands, smiles blood on both of their faces as well.
"From the look on your face, it seems you are very satisfied with your Soul Armant’s abilities," Ashara said as she approached and casually wrapped an arm around his shoulders.
Azrael didn’t hide his joy and nodded. "Indeed. It’s better than I imagined."
Ashara didn’t press him for details about the sword’s abilities. Instead, she looked at the weapon itself.
"So, what are you going to na it?"
Azrael blinked, a little surprised by the question. But then he realized she was right—calling it ’black greatsword’ forever wouldn’t do it justice.
He looked at the shining black blade, which seed to be made of polished obsidian, and his eyes lingered on the cluster of dead stars sealed within—dim and lifeless, as though they had lost their shine long ago.
His gaze stayed fixed on the dead stars for several seconds before he finally opened his mouth.
"I will na it..." He said, gently stroking the blade of the greatsword.
"The Fallen Star."
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