My Overpowered Demon System

A sharp whistle tore through space as Zuriel’s sword drew a straight silver arc toward Azrael’s neck from behind.

Azrael’s mind screamed danger and his body responded accordingly.

He twisted to the side, letting the sword pass through thin air.

His fist smashed into Zuriel’s ribs from the side.

The crunch of bones snapping filled the air.

It lingered for what felt like an hour but was barely a breath.

Zuriel gritted his teeth in an attempt to stop the blood that was about to pour from his mouth, but it was not enough.

He spat the blood out, dyeing the floor red.

Without delay, he opened his mouth to speak.

"Hell no!" Azrael yelled, gripping Zuriel’s mouth shut before any word could escape.

Zuriel’s gaze shrank as Azrael hurled him into the earth.

His back was parallel to the floor, falling toward a sharp spike of rock.

Zuriel forced his essence to surge, flooding his body with golden light.

Beams of light poured from his back, shattering the spike before he could be impaled.

He opened his mouth again.

Blood sprayed through the air as Azrael’s fist drove into his lips.

Zuriel’s body was blasted backward, tearing through the air and crashing through obstruction after obstruction.

As he flew, his face was all smiles, as though the pain were nothing but a temporary inconvenience.

But he had gotten the window he needed.

His body was enveloped in blinding white light.

He halted mid air as though the built up momentum had never existed.

Wounds sealed. Essence refilled.

Azrael’s brow twitched.

"New lesson. Never let him fly free either," he muttered.

In the next instant he lunged, this time faster than before.

His body was a streak of blue that coated the space in his path.

His fist lashed out toward Zuriel’s head.

Zuriel ducked beneath it effortlessly.

"At least put some strength behind your punches," he taunted, leaping back to avoid the follow up.

"Coming from someone who barely survived because of a restoration skill," Azrael replied.

At the same time, he swept his leg in a roundhouse kick at Zuriel’s head.

Zuriel brushed the leg aside, letting it stomp into the earth beside him.

The ground exploded from the force behind it.

"Come on, do not be like the other losers who blame their losses on their enemy’s skill set," Zuriel said, catching Azrael’s leg.

"Your skills are part of your combat ability. Not a separate thing."

As he said that, he drove Azrael’s head into the earth, left to right, then left again.

"That is for last time," Zuriel said, flinging Azrael’s body like a ragdoll.

Azrael stared at him through half closed eyes, blood trickling from his head and down his face.

Motes of essence began to drift across his body, entering through his pores to heal him.

A beam of light shot from Zuriel’s finger, piercing through space with a sharp whistle.

Azrael raised his left hand, rolling it into a fist and punching clean through the beam.

The wind from the impact blew everything behind Azrael backward.

He pulled his fist back, then rolled aside, narrowly avoiding the sword that cleaved through the earth he had just vacated.

Zuriel raised an eyebrow, then leapt backward.

Not fast enough.

His sword was caught in the spatial compression, exploding into shards of metal that drove into the floor.

Mid air, a tornado of pure golden coins erupted, swallowing Zuriel in their sharp edges.

Blood began to rain from within the tornado.

Zuriel flashed a grin at Azrael.

"Seal."

That was all.

Azrael felt all strength drain from his body.

His skills felt distant. Too distant, as though he had never known them at all.

The coin tornado broke apart, dispersing into mist.

Zuriel landed on one knee.

"System, why can I not access any of my skills?" Azrael asked with furrowed brows.

[He likely has a skill that severs your connection to them.]

Azrael heaved as he tried to process the implications.

Before, he had barely been holding his own with his skills active.

Without them, there was no way.

Before he could finish the thought, Zuriel was already above him, a sword of pure gold forming in his grip as he slashed toward Azrael’s chest.

Azrael punched with his right gauntlet, letting all the absorbed essence burst out in a straight line.

Zuriel was caught off guard by the sudden counter.

He changed trajectory mid air, backflipping to avoid it.

[You have one option left.]

The system said.

Azrael nodded.

"Tap into the wrath bloodline."

[That is...]

Azrael cut the system off before it could finish.

"Do not worry."

Crimson essence began to seep from his frame.

"Using that already?" Zuriel said with a smile.

Before he could finish, he felt something from behind.

His body reacted on instinct, sidestepping.

It was not enough.

A hand burst through his arm entirely, detonating it in a mess of blood and bone.

Zuriel’s eyes widened as he turned to look at what had struck him.

It was Azrael’s alter ego. A being of pure wrath with a single intention.

Destruction.

Before he could say anything, Azrael’s fist was already coming for his face.

Zuriel leapt back to avoid it.

As though they had planned his escape route in advance, the alter ego’s fist was already waiting.

His tooth flew free as the blow connected with his jaw.

Zuriel was hurled through the air, blood trailing behind him like a ribbon.

A whip of pure wrath condensed around his feet, pulling him back before he could go far.

Azrael’s leg drove into the earth as he pulled his fist back.

As Zuriel was yanked toward him, he let the punch loose.

Pop.

The sound that followed was casual.

Too casual. It did not feel real.

"Why is there no blood?" Azrael muttered.

Then he heard footsteps approaching.

His head snapped back sharply.

"You really tried," the voice said, casual and completely unbothered.

Azrael’s pupils dilated.

Then he sighed.

"What now?" He asked.