Chapter 63: APOCALYPSE
"Zuriel!" Azrael yelled, turning to the person who had intervened.
If it were anyone else, he might not have been so outraged. He might have even thanked them.
But it was Zuriel, someone who saw him as an arch nemesis.
There could only be one reason he chose to step in. To steal the kill.
Zuriel smiled lightly, pressing his cheek with two fingers.
"What? Is that how you thank someone who saved you?"
"Like you do not know I have a regeneration skill."
Zuriel shrugged.
"Better to conserve essence."
As he spoke, he gripped the hilt of his sword, still sheathed.
A sharp metallic ring echoed through the air as he drew backward.
A sharp gale followed the blade’s path, cleaving the beast already charging toward him into two clean halves.
"Show off," Azrael snorted.
As if that were a trigger, three beasts were compressed into blobs of gore and bone before imploding entirely.
"Did you just call someone a show off?" Zuriel said with a smile as he saw Azrael casually dismantle three beasts.
"This is my swarm. I will handle it myself," Azrael said calmly.
"Or," Zuriel said, stroking his chin slowly.
"We could make a game of it."
"Not interested."
As both of them spoke, they wove through attack after attack.
The beasts were like toys in their hands.
"Whoever gets the most kills keeps all the soul cores."
Azrael shook his head.
"Still not interested."
As he spoke, he ripped the pincer from one of the mantises, spraying green blood through the air.
A sharp whistle followed as he drove the pincer into the beast’s chest.
"Alright," Zuriel shrugged.
He did not bother pressing further.
His body moved in sharp flickers.
With each flicker, another beast’s head fell.
Azrael was not about to be outdone.
He abandoned close range entirely, choosing to kill from a distance.
Blood, bones, and gore flew through the air, dyeing everything green.
The field was soon thick with the metallic scent of blood.
Azrael turned his eyes to the three tier three beasts remaining.
"These should be the strongest," he muttered.
Before he could finish the thought, one of them launched forward, its pincers tearing a deep gash through space as they descended.
Azrael stepped aside to avoid it.
Splurt.
Flesh parted as a pincer pierced up from beneath him.
Looking down, Azrael saw a deep wound opening.
"I bet your regeneration can handle something at that level, right?" Zuriel said from the side.
At the same time, he backflipped, avoiding a tier three beast’s strike.
A pincer pierced through space from beside him mid air.
A loud chime rang out as Zuriel’s blade pushed it back.
Without pause, he turned to face the attacker, slashing downward in a long vertical cleave.
The wind obeyed the sword, creating a razor thin blade that tore through the beast.
The earth split from the force of it.
"Focus on your own fight," Azrael replied.
His body was already regenerating.
At the same time, a tornado of pure gold coins enveloped the three remaining beasts, slicing through them like paper.
"Seems like you are finally getting fired up," Zuriel called out.
His body was positioned with his head facing the earth.
Wind condensed at his feet.
He pushed against it, propelling himself downward at a speed that sent sonic ripples traveling through space.
Twisting through the air, he came into contact with the first beast, slicing through its neck with frightening ease.
A pincer appeared from above him.
Zuriel did not fight it.
He let it pass through his chest.
In return, a wind blade erupted from his sword, cutting clean through the torsos of every beast below him.
As gravity pulled him toward the floor, he muttered a single word.
A blinding light enveloped him, and the hole in his chest sealed shut.
A wide grin was on his face as he looked around.
The swarm had not stopped.
White wolves were converging from every direction.
"Is this not too much?" Azrael said, watching the new wave arrive. "What kind of person tries to kill someone with a gift?"
[I do not think that is the case. These ones are likely drawn by the commotion from your fight.]
The system said.
Then it went quiet for a moment.
[Though knowing how calculating that brother of yours is, he probably accounted for this too.]
Azrael shook his head.
"I wonder how I ended up in this family."
Looking back at everyone he had met since arriving, there was a pattern.
Sylas’s arrogance. Dante’s unbothered ruthlessness. Eriksen’s twisted sense of fun. His father’s quiet schemes.
Everyone was a different breed of the same thing.
[This is the perfect family for someone like you.]
Azrael smiled.
"I think so too."
He lunged forward before long, abandoning his earlier tactics entirely.
"Has he finally snapped?" Zuriel asked as he landed without a sound.
"Just know it will not be the beasts that finish you," he called after Azrael.
Azrael furrowed his brows at the words but did not dwell on them.
He leapt into the swarm.
Before any beast could register his presence, they exploded.
His fist passed through another beast’s head with a pop.
He glanced at Zuriel, then up at the pillars of light condensing above him.
A sigh escaped his lips as he leapt clear of the beasts.
His essence surged like a tide finally given permission to move.
It flooded the sky, rapidly condensing into dark pillars that pressed against the fabric of space.
The other half of his essence shaped itself into sharp spears, their tips fine enough to part the wind.
Azrael’s breathing grew heavier with each passing moment.
Zuriel looked up at the sky and smiled.
"It seems he truly has lost it," he muttered.
Both fighters looked at each other.
And in tandem, they released everything.
The sky tore apart, shattering like glass.
The rift itself trembled as though it were about to witness the greatest destruction ever to occur within its boundaries.