At the sa ti, deep within the Layer of Ancients, shrouded in oppressive darkness, a familiar face erged. Dark hair frad empty obsidian eyes, each etched with two purple slits, as they searched curiously for the voice that had dared to summon him.
"Hmm?"
Azazeal tilted his head as he took a step forward atop the colossal arena, his gaze sweeping over the vast expanse. At the far end, in the center of a circular, dark do, a lone coffin rested, encircled by statues of dark creatures and crumbling old ruins.
Eerie shadows danced across the broken stones, and the air seed to hum with the weight of countless millennium, as if the dark arena itself were holding its breath.
His lips curved into a perfect arch, yet the beautiful smile did not match the darkness that clung to him like a living shadow, nor the emotionless emptiness in his gaze.
"Why the silence now?"
The words reverberated in all directions, echoing throughout the entire cave—or should he call it a hidden ancient tomb?
Every stone around him trembled at the sound, as if extrely afraid the sound would awaken the sleeping dark entity.
Azazeal continued forward, indifferent to how shadows stretched unnaturally along the walls around him, coiling and twisting as though alive, and how a chilling, almost tangible gaze fell upon his form, waiting... watching... him with cold amusent.
He didn’t waver as he strode toward the coffin far away, muttering coldly under his breath, almost as if speaking to himself.
"I am here... just as you called."
With another determined step, his voice grew louder, sharper, more demanding.
"Now... complete your promise."
"The one you whispered to ... am I not alone, worthy of inheriting your power?"
His lips curled further.
"Am I not... who reeks of perfection?"
The loud echo rattled through the entire place, carrying a frenzied desperation that seed to claw at the very walls. His dark, empty eyes burned with a manic intensity, a hunger so raw it could consu everything.
He was willing to barter anything, even his soul, having already been consud by darkness. Nothing else was darker now.
"Now...give power."
A low tremor tore through his body as he rembered Nathaniel and clenched his fists hard enough for bone to creak.
"So I can tear him apart...!! Pull him from his throne and drag him across this whole Realm until he begs for death... but he won’t get even that... I swear, haha..."
His laughter died imdiately as it ca, as he realized how fractured it sounded to his own ears. How broken had he beco?
Now he didn’t even know how to laugh.
"Heh... how tragic..."
He stopped in front of the coffin. It was enormous—twice the height of his fra.
Atop the coffin rested a beautiful crimson ice crown, shrouded in darkness. Intricate in design, it radiated a searing heat despite being made of ice. Its ever-shifting edges shimred with colors barely perceptible, each tip unique and impossibly detailed.
"Finally..."
His gaze flickered with craziness at the imnse power radiating from the crown, and he reached out without any hesitation, even as a sinister smile ford within the darkness surrounding it. The mont he touched the crimson crown, the familiar, ancient voice that had brought him here whispered in his mind one last ti.
’Never forget our deal... In return, you have to swallow this entire Realm when you are done... That’s my only unfulfilled wish.’
With that, the voice vanished. After all, it was rely the lingering consciousness of soone long dead, lacking true existence, and it vanished the mont its obsession was passed to another—since it knew that even if this person it chose didn’t realize it, that obsession had long since taken form. It was capable of realizing itself and just needed a living vessel to grow in secret.
What followed as the voice faded was a heart-wrenching scream that tore through the cave. The crimson crown liquefied into a cold inferno capable of incinerating even the peak Celestials, and it slithered across the hand that had dared to touch it. It was both cold and hot. And within monts, it quickly enveloped Azazeal’s entire body. He clawed at his body and writhed against the tide, but it was useless—every fiber of him was consud, lting into the blaze.
His screams echoed endlessly, mingling with dark shadows that rushed to devour him completely. The power attempting to rge with him froze for a mont upon realizing his soul was incomplete, only to tremble with mirth when it learned how he had divided his soul into nurous equal pieces just to grow stronger. It grew even more pleased at the sight of the massive purple flower that blood above Azazeal to battle it for supremacy—before opening its jaws wide and swallowing it entirely.
The flower couldn’t even resist.
Its will to survive shattered effortlessly against sothing far stronger. Why so easily? Because it was already tainted—incomplete after Nathaniel had stolen a fragnt of it. And unlike Kyle, its owner surrendered willingly, actually allowing its existence that had protected him for so long to be devoured by another power—a power that didn’t even stem from him.
At the sa ti, all of Azazeal’s other bodies scattered throughout the Layer of Ancients scread simultaneously as the tainted yet still beautiful purple flower that had always remained concealed unless he really needed it suddenly materialized and blood eerily above them, losing the last trace of purity it had desperately clung to.
It completely darkened into a deep black hue, and from its center, an eerily majestic crimson crown created from ice unfurled, radiating an ominous and terrifying aura.
Nature, already sweating in another place because of a certain soone, was once again thrown into horror as it felt another Celestial Lake expanding—tearing through the white boundaries that contained it. Yet unlike Kyle’s Celestial Lake, this one was pitch black, like a bottomless, dark abyss.
The void that opened in Azazeal’s soul to drain it dry radiated a ghostly presence, an eerie smile forming within, with a pair of dark eyes glinting through the shadows.
At that mont, an entity forged entirely from darkness ca into existence. It had its own consciousness—sothing living and capable of swallowing everything. Yet Nature could only watch as it hid itself in the screaming soul shrouded in darkness.
Nature cried, powerless to intervene.
Just like Kyle...
Another person had found the End.
But with the darkest ’Crown of a Ruler’.
A person who wasn’t even the least bit favored... let alone chosen by Nature.
But to Azazeal, that End was not rely a culmination—the highest peak of power—it was just a ans to obliterate everything.
When they found the End, they saw each other in that fleeting mont. Yet... before them, the powers were completely different—one shrouded in utter darkness, the other radiating a luminous, celestial brilliance.
Kyle’s gaze narrowed as he squinted. But his consciousness was too hazy to grasp anything about what was happening. All he rembered in the end was that the figure opposite him was shedding tears of blood, yet still smiled when it noticed him.
A strangely relieved smile.
Azazeal mouthed quietly, even though he knew the opposite side couldn’t hear it.
’Good... you too are here...’
’When... we wake up... let’s begin the final war—where only one of us survives in the end... or perhaps we both get devoured.’
Then he closed his eyes, embraced the power before him, and sank into slumber.
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