My Overpowered Demon System

The earth was scorched beyond recognition.

The only things remaining within a hundred kilometers were rubble, soul cores from hundreds of beasts, and two demons.

They were both heaving heavily, their hearts about to pop out of their chests.

No.

Just Azrael.

"Hey," he heard the voice from directly above him.

His head snapped upward weakly.

What met him was Zuriel’s blade, as sharp as ever.

He did not hesitate. His body moved before his thoughts could form. His arms crossed into an x shape, catching the blade before it could reach him.

He gritted his teeth as his knee buckled.

The earth beneath him gave way, unable to hold the weight any longer.

Shockwaves traveled outward through the surface.

Then an explosion.

The earth broke apart, craters and ravines forming across a radius of over a kilometer of already destroyed land.

Azrael gritted his teeth and pushed Zuriel back with his essence infused arms.

Zuriel twisted through the air, landing on his toes before settling his full weight.

"Good thing you did not die from that," Zuriel said calmly.

"What are you doing?" Azrael yelled, eyes burning.

Zuriel shrugged.

"I want to assassinate you. Simple."

Azrael blinked.

"You do know I am a direct heir of the Patriarch, right?" He asked.

"And by extension, your cousin."

Zuriel shrugged casually as of what Azrael had just said was another useless topic.

"In this world, there is no such thing as family."

As he spoke, he sheathed his sword calmly.

"There are only two things. Victors and the vanquished."

Azrael’s pupils dilated.

"You are more..."

Before he could finish, something strangled him.

His entire body jolted as wind pressed against his neck like a clamp.

"Please, do not interrupt me," Zuriel said with a smile.

In that moment, he felt like a completely different person from the one everyone thought they knew.

He was as calm as the surface of still water. Each word fell as though time itself had agreed to wait for him.

"Even your so called friends and family are only going to use you in the long run."

A heavy exhale left his lips as he spoke.

"Too bad you will not be around long enough to see it."

Before Zuriel could finish the sentence, Azrael’s fist was already inches from his face.

"Hey, hey," Zuriel said, catching the fist with his palm. "Do not go around cutting people off."

As he spoke, he shifted Azrael’s fist to the side.

In the next instant, he drew his sword and slashed straight at Azrael’s neck.

Azrael’s arm exploded outward, the force buying him just enough room to avoid the strike.

Zuriel stared at the arm in his hand with quiet contempt.

Without care, he flung it aside.

"Seems like you are desperate to survive," Zuriel said.

Azrael smirked.

"Desperate? I have not even started."

His arm regrew as he lunged.

Zuriel ducked beneath the attack, letting Azrael’s fist pass through the air above him.

Without pause, he drove his leg into Azrael’s chest.

Azrael took the full force of it.

His palm wrapped around the leg.

Zuriel’s eyes widened, but it was too late.

Azrael drove Zuriel’s head into the ground, slamming it left, then right.

The already broken earth rumbled further.

The cries of nearby beasts rose up briefly before being swallowed by the explosion that followed.

Zuriel’s body was battered.

Blood seeped from his pores, then stopped almost immediately as a familiar word left his lips.

His essence and body were restored to their peak, as though nothing had ever touched them.

Azrael stared with wide eyes.

Then another shock hit.

Zuriel looked at Azrael’s expression and smirked.

"What?" He asked. "Do not tell me you are already surprised by something as ordinary as me being at tier four."

Although he said it casually, the pride behind the words was impossible to hide.

Azrael’s heart beat faster.

If it were anyone else, he might have been able to bridge the gap.

But this was Zuriel.

Someone hailed as one of the greatest geniuses in the clan’s history. His combat ability was not something to underestimate.

"I am nearly out of essence," Azrael muttered, still breathing hard. "And now I have to deal with someone at least five times stronger than me."

[Should I suggest some purchases?]

The system asked.

"How much SP do I have?" Azrael asked.

[SP: 472,130.]

[Three hundred thousand of that came from killing the tier six beast.]

"Buy whatever would help me," Azrael replied.

The system replied with a thumbs up before displaying a set of items.

[Rejuvenation Potion: Restores host to peak condition.]

[Cost: 5,000 SP.]

[Titanbreaker Gauntlets: The left gauntlet absorbs a percentage of the essence used in attacking the wielder. The right gauntlet releases the stored essence as a beam on the wielder’s command.]

[Cost: 100,000 SP.]

Azrael accepted both without hesitation.

There was no point in being careful with SP when death was standing directly in front of him.

In the next instant, something wrapped around both fists.

On his left hand, a crimson gauntlet with knuckles shaped like intake pipes.

On his right, a blue gauntlet with knuckles shaped like the head of a giant.

A golden vial appeared over his palm.

He downed it immediately, letting the warmth spread through him.

"Hey, why do you always space out?"

Zuriel’s voice came from directly ahead, sharp with frustration.

"Even now, you still do it."

His sword completed its arc as he spoke, slicing toward Azrael’s neck.

The blade passed through as though Azrael had never been standing there.

The wave from the swing alone was enough to cleave through the earth beneath them.

’This entire place has been reduced to nothing,’ Azrael thought, glancing across the ruined landscape before turning back to Zuriel.

"I forgot about that skill," Zuriel muttered, backflipping.

The air in the space he had just vacated exploded violently as Azrael’s fist tore through it.

Azrael’s head snapped toward Zuriel.

He was gone.