Chapter 95: Erebus
"Sorry I am late, young Lord Azrael," Erebus said with a bow.
In his hand was a napkin which he was using to clean his palm as if nothing had just happened.
’How far away is the office from this place?’ Azrael thought in confusion.
It was obvious that Abaddon had waited this long to see how it would play out.
’That,’ Azrael mused, glancing toward Erebus. ’Or he wanted to Aura Farm.’
Then his gaze shifted slightly, toward the hole in Marvin’s chest.
The hole was gaping, wide enough for a baby to pass through without obstruction.
"What do you want, Erebus?" Marvin asked, red veins popping in his eyes.
He ignored the hole in his chest entirely as if it had never been there.
"Patriarch Abaddon seeks your presence."
Erebus spoke as if he were addressing someone beneath him, and not the feared Mad Demon of the Malvorin clan.
’If father thinks so highly of him, doesn’t that mean my chances of inheriting the Patriarch position are slim?’ Marvin wondered as he stared at Azrael.
The world seemed to slow to a halt, as if waiting for Marvin to make his next decision.
And in that pause, he made it.
Azrael had to go at that moment. Even if it meant the Patriarch was going to punish him.
"Not like the Patriarch can kill me just because of one brat," Marvin said, lunging at a speed that made light look slow.
He flickered before Azrael, his fist bursting outward toward his chest.
In that moment, he activated his skill.
A skill that made even space fracture just by being in existence.
It was death itself.
The black energy wrapped tightly around Marvin’s fist like a second skin.
And as it neared, a sharp line tore through space.
The line was so precise that it did not cut even an inch from the intended target.
"Young Lord Marvin, please do not make this violent," Erebus said with a smile.
It was as if he had done nothing at all.
But Marvin’s arm proved otherwise.
It fell to the floor with a thud, unable to reach Azrael before being split from its source.
Even though the punch had not connected, Azrael’s entire existence had screamed death at that moment.
In all his time in this world, he had never felt death this close.
He felt the skill would have bypassed all his regeneration and ended him regardless.
Marvin scoffed, picking his arm from the floor.
He reattached it like it was nothing. At the same time, the hole in his chest began to close, stitching shut faster than the eye could follow.
"Talk about being lucky," Marvin said, his previous fury disappearing entirely.
What replaced it was a smile.
Soft and tender.
Azrael gazed at him.
There was nothing but pure shock in his eyes.
How could someone switch so easily?
But Erebus remained entirely calm about it.
"Time to hear his nagging," Marvin said, walking past Azrael and Erebus as if they did not exist.
For a while, neither of them said anything, letting the silence settle.
Then Erebus turned and followed behind Marvin without another word to Azrael.
"I hate that guy," Azrael said as he continued walking.
Feeling the blood on his face and clothes, he sighed.
"Maybe tomorrow then. I can’t go to the academy looking like this."
Normally he could have gone home, cleaned up, and headed out, but Azrael was simply too tired to bother.
"But I need to get stronger," he muttered, already making his way toward his room. "What if this had happened outside the estate?"
He clicked his tongue in frustration.
’This feeling of helplessness.’
He soon reached the main area of the castle and maids began appearing on both sides as he walked.
"One week," he murmured, nodding at their greetings. "Maybe I should explore during that time."
All his time in this world and the only places he had been were a small part of the estate, the Chaos Realm, and the Dimensional Rift.
In his past life, he had been an explorer when he was not in the ring.
"How docile have I become?" He said with a smile as he pushed his door open.
His room lay before him.
"Two years was quite a long time," Azrael muttered as he stepped in.
He pushed the door shut behind him.
A strange sense of nostalgia washed over him, and his heart almost skipped a beat.
Slowly, he walked toward the bed.
The king sized crimson bed that stood at the center of his room.
His hand rested on the edge.
Just then, a knock came from the door.
"That was fast," he muttered. "I thought cooking was supposed to take far longer than this."
But he said nothing more.
"Come in."
The words settled. For the first few seconds, no one entered.
"Are they deaf?" Azrael muttered with squinted brows.
His fists folded immediately, flames erupting along his arm as he punched toward an invisible section of the room.
"Hey, you do not have to be so violent," the person said, swirling around the arm.
Azrael blinked, then smiled.
Wind began to condense in front of him, shaping itself into a humanoid form.
Soon the person became visible.
It was Zephyr.
He was taller now, the same height as Azrael.
His hair had grown out, reaching his back. His jaw was more defined, as if carved deliberately.
"Look how much you have changed," Azrael said with a smile.
Zephyr’s brows twitched.
"You are talking about change? Really?"
As he spoke, he stepped closer, his hand sliding down Azrael’s gold white hair.
"How did everything about you change to this extent?"
Azrael smiled in response.
"Let’s just say time happened."
As he said it, he pushed Zephyr’s hand back.
"Stop touching my hair like that. It is weird."
"Yeah, sorry," Zephyr said, pulling his arm back.
Neither of them said anything.
"This is awkward. Why are you in my room?" Azrael groaned.
"Why are you covered in blood?" Zephyr retorted.