"I've had enough of you. Seems the longer this drags on, the stronger you beco… fine," I said with a slow, deliberate smirk curling across my face, and it wasn't the usual empty expression I wore when mocking my enemies—it was real, honest, sharp with a twisted joy I hadn't felt in a very long ti. "Let show you a few of the new skills I've crafted—and add a little bit of sin into them."
My wings flared open behind with a violent snap, the air bending beneath their sudden force, and then they flapped—once, twice—each movent so powerful that it sent massive shockwaves into the air, and from those flaps ca a hurricane of pure violence, a windstorm that tore through the chaotic pressure that had been pressing on from all sides. That overwhelming wind which had once felt like it was burying now bent and twisted into a vortex under my command, sucked inward by the storm I created, unable to resist the strength that had awakened inside . I beca the eye of that storm—untouchable, unmoved, as everything else was pulled toward like offerings to a rising god.
Around , the battlefield reflected the shift in power. The once-green land, lush and fertile, was now a mory, the trees long since reduced to ash, their roots ripped from the soil. The grass had turned to sand, scorched and crumbling under the heat of my earlier fury, and what remained of nature began to crumble further under the force of this new storm, like the world itself was breaking apart in response to the fight. Above us, the sky had darkened into a deep, violent crimson, not the red of a sunset, but of blood thickened in rage, and the clouds spiraled into the vortex forming above —twisting, convulsing, dying in swirls of gold and purple as the heavens themselves began to bleed energy into my spell.
As I stepped forward, taking charge of the space between us, my claws spread open, sharp and burning with fla, and behind , a massive sigil appeared in the air—an ancient fortress of sin and dominance, its form not built of stone, but of floating pillars of dark light and crimson fla, spinning slowly as if it had been pulled from another realm entirely, too powerful and sacred to exist here. It cast no shadow, but the sky darkened beneath it. And then ca the vortex.
It ford above in a blink, violent and imdiate, pulling in everything it could—dust, energy, sound, light—warping the very space it hovered in, and from its endless spiral, streaks of cosmic power began to flow downward like liquid starlight. The energy was alive, seething, humming, divine in its origin and terrifying in its descent, pouring through the eye of the storm directly into , flooding into my body with such force that I could feel my veins scream, my bones crack under the pressure, and my muscles strain to contain the wrath that was being forced into every inch of my fra. The pain was sharp, and real, and absolute—but I didn't care.
Pain was a price. And this power… it was worth everything.
My arms burned. My shoulders quivered. I could feel the fractures spreading through like threads of light through a shattered mirror, but even as the agony crept through my body like a serpent made of fla, I smiled wider, because I knew—I knew—what was coming next would end this.
And that thought alone made the suffering worth it.
I could see the werewolf's expression change, just for a second, a flicker of realization, maybe even fear—and then, instantly, a massive wall of wind rose around it like a fortress, howling with elental rage, a swirling barrier that almost looked impenetrable. The air bent and warped around the beast, rippling with power, and the pressure it unleashed struck like invisible blades, slicing across my skin, trying to tear apart before I could even reach it. It was fast—inhumanly fast—and devastating, the kind of wind you'd expect to find on Jupiter, raw and ancient, the type of force that would reduce any normal person to minced flesh and scattered bones in the blink of an eye.
But I didn't stop.
The wrath and pride burning inside were too strong now, too wild, too righteous to let back down, and with all my power compressed into a single devastating motion, I let my claw swing forward—unstoppable, divine—and it collided with the wind fortress.
CRRRRAAAACK
A world-shattering rupture tore through the air. Reality itself trembled. The sound was deafening, like the planet screaming under the weight of two forces that were never ant to et. Ground? Gone. Sky? Torn. Light? Fractured and swallowed in the burst. Nothing around us survived the clash—nothing mattered in that mont but the violence we brought into the world.
Well—that thing brought wind.
I brought judgnt.
It may have looked like a warrior, but let's be honest—it was a brainless monster with claws and ego. Still, I'll give it this: it tried.
But I felt the power of that clash head on, tasted the burn in my lungs, felt the sting on my skin, but I didn't yield. No matter how its eyes widened at the last second, no matter how much fear twisted its expression the mont our power t, it didn't matter. I was rciless. I was absolute. Its fortress cracked, and my claw tore through it like a hot knife through soft, trembling flesh.
And then ca the darkness.
Void bled from my fingertips like liquid sin, seeping into the creature's body, wrapping around its core, and exploding from within like a star being ripped in half. The werewolf burst apart in a shower of gore, chunks of bone and muscle raining across the ruined battlefield, the sky dyed red as its blood painted like war paint. I stood there, covered in the aftermath, breathing slow, watching as what was once a powerful enemy dissolved into mory.
This wasn't revenge.
This was a lesson.
To those who dare lay a finger on what's mine, on my friends, on those I claim, there are only two paths: death or submission.
And it chose wrong.
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