Chapter 28: The Angel Descends
Two subjugation teams from both military schools had decided to attack the monsters near the Rift. Though the threat of death loomed heavy, the promise of rewards—and the chance to rise in school ranking—pushed them forward.
Azrael had expected to witness a grand fight between them and the monsters when he picked up the echo of fighting ahead. But nothing of the sort was in sight.
The snow was stained with the blood of both humans and monsters. Lifeless corpses lay scattered across the ground.
"What the hell?" he muttered, frowning. The Chosen, both from the Moon Breakers and the Elite school, had acted faster than expected and attacked—only to be slaughtered.
He examined the bodies carefully. Numerous wounds—some were scorched, others torn apart. Burned flesh, missing limbs. Whatever horrors they faced in their final moments, Azrael didn’t know. All he could do was guess, judging by the frozen expressions of fear etched onto their faces.
The grip on his scythe tightened as the coldness seeped deeper into his bones.
The fog slowly began to disperse, allowing him to witness the Rift in its full glory, this was the first time he had seen one so close. Even if it was the lowest Danger Level possible, it proved to be far worse than he had expected.
A wave of dread crashed over his body, screaming for him to run. At the same time, something deep in his soul urged him to enter the Rift and clear it. It wouldn’t be exaggerating to say that he felt himself being torn in two.
Taking a shallow breath, he crouched, eyes landing on the monsters he had seen before when he and Victor had exited from the cave.
Around a dozen Cryothanes stood nearby. Yet rather than fighting, they seemed calm. No Chosen were left to duel them. No infighting among the creatures themselves.
All the Chosen who dared challenge them were dead. And the reason for the eerie calm nature of the beasts became clear.
One being stood above the rest. Towering. Dominant. No one had been foolish enough to confront it.