Chapter 73: Is there an abyss in the abyss ? - 8
The corrupted angel snarled, its divine eye widening, its warped wing spasming as the mist it poured shriveled where Azareel’s light touched.
The corrupted aura cracked like burning paper, vanishing inch by inch, the ground beneath it trembling as if the Abyss itself feared the glow.
Sylvara stared, her voice trembling with awe.
"H-he’s cleansing it... the rot... it can’t stay," she whispered, her shriveled vines twitching as if yearning to bloom again.
Nyxsha’s golden eyes widened, her massive form stilling, blood dripping from her wounds as she watched, transfixed.
Virelya’s coils froze, her four heads falling silent, their masks reflecting the golden light, their golden eyes wide with wonder.
Azareel’s entire form gleamed like a walking star, the branch tracing sigils with perfect grace, forming an array in the air that pulsed with a heartbeat not his own—hope, radiant and unyielding, a light that burned brighter than the Abyss’s despair.
The corrupted angel screamed—an awful, high-pitched noise that didn’t belong to heaven or abyss, its wing spasming, pustules bursting, spraying black ichor that boiled away in the light.
It stepped back, then forward again, its divine eye blazing with anger, its certainty faltering.
It raised a hand, summoning more mist, but Azareel lifted the branch one last time, completing the radiant glyph with a final stroke.