Azreal fell to one knee, blood dripping from his lips. His chest burned, pain flashing across his vision.
"I said... who are you...?" he growled, his voice low and cracked with fury.
The figure in the shadow smiled.
With a sharp pull, he ripped the blade from Azreal’s chest. Blood sprayed out in a wide arc, sizzling as it hit the molten ground. Azreal’s body jerked slightly, but he didn’t fall.
His eyes burned, glowing hotter than ever. A low hum echoed as a blue sphere of flas began to form in his right hand. It spun wildly, swirling faster and faster until it whined like a storm. The heat was intense, lting the rocks around his feet. Cracks spread like a web beneath him.
The mysterious figure backed away slowly, eyes narrowed.
Azreal rotated the blue orb faster, dragging it along the ground. The fire carved lines through the earth, vaporizing it into ash and smoke. The pressure alone leveled the land around them. The sky trembled. Azreal’s blood kept falling, soaking the battlefield, but he never broke focus.
"Just... who are you...?" Azreal asked again, voice shaking with both pain and rage.
The figure finally stopped moving. With a slow motion, he reached for the hood of his cloak and pulled it back.
The face that was revealed stole the air from Azreal’s lungs.
"Sin...?" Azreal breathed, eyes widening in disbelief.
The man chuckled darkly. "No. I am Zarion."
Azreal’s head shook slightly, still kneeling, stunned. "Zarion? Then why do you look like Sin? Where is Y’tharion?"
Zarion stepped forward, flas flickering in his eyes. "Sin. Y’tharion. Death..."
Azreal stiffened. "Who’s... Death?"
Zarion’s smile widened. "I am all of them. Those three... they make up Y’tharion. I carry the mark. I am the source. I nad it Y’tharion."
Azreal’s breathing grew ragged. His legs shook beneath him as he fell again to his knees. "No... Y’t—Y’tharion was sealed. There was no such na as Zarion."
Zarion laughed. "Then who exactly did they seal in Val’Karas, Azreal?"
The question cut deep.
Azreal stayed silent.
Zarion tilted his head. "When the gods sealed , they knew of my ability... to split my soul. They locked away Y’tharion, yes—but I shattered myself. Part of beca Death... sealed again. That soul split again. It beca Sin."
The truth hung in the air like poison.
Azreal’s voice trembled. "Sarah... she was right... That was your ability... Soul fracturing..."
Zarion’s smirk never faded.
"But if that’s your power, you’d need vessels," Azreal whispered.
Zarion simply smiled.
Azreal’s eyes widened. "Sin... Y’tharion... Death... were your vessels."
"Excellent deduction, Azreal. You always were sharp," Zarion said softly. "It took centuries. But oh... fooling the gods? Worth every step."
Azreal clutched his side, bleeding heavily. The weight of the truth dragged on him more than the pain. His arms trembled. "This... this isn’t possible..."
Zarion sighed. "That’s all you need to know."
WHOOSH!
He vanished in a blur.
Azreal barely caught it—he twisted just in ti to avoid a direct strike, but he stumbled, body weak, lungs burning. Blood poured from his wound.
Zarion reappeared behind him.
"Surprising," he said. "Still fast, even with that hole in your chest."
Azreal gasped for air. He looked around—the hell guards still clashed in the distance, unaware of this duel. Hulk’s unconscious body lay broken beneath the rubble.
He looked down at the wound in his chest. The blood didn’t stop. How did he...?
Zarion answered like he read his mind.
"The Breath of Life," he said with a dark grin. "A technique that senses malicious intent. Yours was burning like wildfire. But... as the na implies... it’s tied to your soul. A beautiful ability—but not one that lasts long."
Azreal winced. He knows everything.
"I think it’s ti to lighten things up, don’t you think?" Zarion said calmly—and vanished again.
Azreal’s eyes widened. Behind !
He turned, backing away—barely dodging a killing blow.
Then Azreal’s eyes flared. "Blue."
A ring of blue flas burst from his palms, flaring up violently. The heat made even Zarion halt.
"Ah... blue flas," Zarion whispered, licking his lips. "You truly are the King of Hell."
Azreal stepped forward, hand glowing brighter than before. The fire began to condense... twisting and reshaping.
FWOOM!
It ford into a blade.
A sword made of pure blue fire.
Blue flas burst into existence, spiraling into both of his hands. The ground cracked beneath him from the sheer heat.
Zarion chuckled. "Ah, the signature of the King of Hell. Your flas are as beautiful as they are deadly."
Azreal didn’t speak.
He began compressing the fire.
It twisted, reshaped.
A blade of blue fire took form.
Zarion summoned his own flas, swirling into a long burning spear with jagged, smoking edges.
"You’re strong," Zarion said, spinning his spear. "I’ll admit that."
Azreal’s crimson eyes burned like twin suns. "So are you."
Then—boom!—they vanished.
A shockwave cracked the earth where they stood. They reappeared mid-air, weapons colliding in a flash of sparks and fire. The impact burst outward like thunder, blowing away clouds of ash and molten debris.
Zarion struck first—a sweeping arc with his spear, flas trailing behind like a dragon’s tail. Azreal ducked under it, spun, and slashed upward. Blue fire scread across Zarion’s armor, carving a thin line across his shoulder.
Zarion grined. Nice blade.
Azreal didn’t answer. He lunged forward.
Clash! Slash!
The two warriors blurred in speed—raining down a storm of destruction across the battlefield. Azreal’s movents were fluid, sharp, surgical. Zarion was relentless, a whirlwind of rage and flas.
Each ti their weapons t, flas surged. Red clashed with blue, turning the sky above into a canvas of color and fury. Blades shattered rocks. Shockwaves destroyed terrain. The ground was no longer earth—just scorched ruin.
Zarion roared, swinging his spear with both hands.
BOOM!
Azreal blocked it, sliding backward, boots digging trenches in the dirt. His arm trembled slightly from the force.
Zarion dashed, spear spinning like a cyclone, striking from every angle. Azreal deflected three blows—then was grazed across his cheek. Blood spilled. He leapt back.
Zarion grinned. "Another hit."
Azreal wiped the blood, eyes calm. "Everyone gets wounded in battle."
Suddenly, the air shifted.
"Without a word... orange, flaming feathers began to fall from the sky—slowly, gently—like embers from a celestial bird. The battlefield went silent. The sky turned grey, like life itself had been drained.
Zarion blinked. "What... is this?"
Everything slowed.
Zarion’s breath caught in his throat. It was like his body moved through water, thick and heavy. Only Azreal stood still... unaffected.
Azreal walked forward, every step like thunder in slow motion.
Zarion grunted, forcing his limbs to respond. He swung his spear.
Azreal vanished.
In an instant—bam!—he appeared behind Zarion, slashing across his back. Sparks flew. Blood spilled. The wound smoked.
Zarion roared, turning, spinning his spear in a wide arc—but Azreal moved again. Faster than before. Blurring. Warping. His blade tore across Zarion’s side.
Zarion dropped to one knee, panting. "You... slowed ti..."
The falling feathers burned away slowly, one by one.
Then Azreal raised his hand. Calmly.
Behind him, the sky cracked open and dozens of blue fla spears ford in the air—silent, motionless, like divine judgnt. Azreal simply pointed.
FWOOOOOSH!!!
The spears launched like teors.
Zarion’s eyes widened. "Tch—!!"
He raised a wall of red flas, but the first spear pierced it. The second shattered it. The third exploded on impact, launching him back with a howl. His armor was burned. His skin, blistered.
Zarion gritted his teeth. "ENOUGH!!"
With a deafening scream, his flas erupted. A column of crimson and black fla shot into the sky, blowing the feathers away. The grey faded. Ti resud.
The two figures stood once more—wounded, panting—but far from done.
Zarion’s body stead. "I didn’t co here to lose."
Azreal raised his sword, the blue fire burning brighter than ever. "Then keep standing."
Zarion charged. Azreal did the sa.
BOOM!!
Their final clash shook the heavens.
Spear and sword collided again and again—each blow sent shockwaves that cracked the air. Azreal ducked, spun, struck—Zarion blocked, countered, swept. The battle was no longer just skill—it was will. Fire surged with each heartbeat. Power clashed with power.
Zarion managed a brutal hit—a spinning strike with the shaft of his spear that bashed Azreal’s ribs. Azreal winced, staggered. Zarion followed with a thrust aid at his heart.
But Azreal dropped low, twisted, and uppercut his sword—sending Zarion flying.
Zarion skidded to a stop, spitting blood. "You’re strong... but I’ll end this!"
He raised his hand—his spear ignited with all his remaining power.
He dashed.
Azreal raised his blade.
SLASH!!!
CLANG!!
STAB.
Azreal froze.
Zarion stood inches away, his spear buried deep into Azreal’s chest.
Azreal coughed.
Zarion’s eyes trembled... but he kept pushing. He twisted the spear.
Azreal stumbled backward, blood pouring down his robes. His sword dropped. The blue fire flickered.
Then—swish!
Zarion slashed—cutting off Azreal’s left arm.
Azreal didn’t scream. But his knees buckled.
Zarion raised his spear high, red flas spiraling around it.
He brought it down.
SHHHNK!
Azreal’s head hit the ground.
His body followed, collapsing like a monunt shattered.
Silence.
Zarion stood over him, breathing heavily, arms trembling. Blood dripped from his spear. He was panting hard... exhausted... victorious.
Or so he thought.
Then a voice—a scream—cut through the smoke.
"AZREAL!!!"
It was filled with horror. Pain. Rage.
Aria.
She ran across the field, her cloak flapping wildly in the wind, her hair tangled from battle. She had just arrived—and what she saw broke her heart.
There he was. Azreal. Still. Lifeless. His arm gone. His head separated. Blood pooling beneath him.
"No..." she gasped, dropping to her knees beside him. "You can’t... you promised..."
Zarion turned slowly, his body barely holding together.
His face pale. "You... must be Aria."
Her hands clenched. Her entire body began to tremble—not with fear, but fury. Her pink flas began to rise.
Zarion gripped his spear again, ready to fight... but Aria’s aura was rising. Burning. Consuming.
But that was for later.
For now—
The sky remained still.
Azreal... has fallen.
---
To be continued....
Hey there, amazing reader!
If you’ve made it this far, thank you so much for reading! I truly appreciate every second you spend diving into this world I’ve created. If you’re enjoying the journey, the characters, the intense battles, or even just the small monts in between—please consider showing your support!
You can help in so many ways:
Leave a comnt – I love hearing from you! Whether it’s your thoughts, predictions, favorite characters, or even just a "hi," it really keeps going.
Vote with Power Stones – Your daily votes let the story rise in the rankings and reach more readers.
Drop a Golden Ticket – These are rare and powerful, and dropping one on this book is a HUGE boost and honor.
Send a gift – Whether it’s a small one or sothing big, every gift shows that you believe in the story, and I appreciate each one deeply.
Every form of support—big or small—helps motivate to keep writing, improving, and expanding the world you’re a part of. Your engagent fuels this series more than you know.
Also, if you have any questions about the plot, the lore, powers, characters, or upcoming arcs—don’t hesitate to ask! I’m more than happy to answer, chat, or even drop hints (if you’re lucky ). Your theories and curiosity make the journey even more exciting.
So if you’re enjoying this ride—let know!
Together, we can bring this story to life in ways even I couldn’t imagine.
Thanks again—and trust , the best is yet to co.
Reviews
All reviews (0)