Standing frozen in place, Azreal's dimly coloured eyes, unable to tear his eyes away from the back of this monster, the sounds of teeth tearing through flesh and sobbing of the disciples who are pierced and pinned to each of the ten wooden stakes. The sky, a mix of ash and flame, burns a dim orange light, the scene before Azreal, scaring him so deeply, shocking him to the core so harshly, yet he looks with an unflinching gaze. A sense of familiarity, sweeping across Azreal's soul, sparking the desire to fight this creature begins to rear its head in his heart. Crimson Fang, raises his deformed skull, his nose to the sky and aggressively begins to sniff.
"Another beautiful meal, delivered to my doorstep," Crimson Fang's voice gargled as blood overflowed from his mouth as he forced his voice to carry across the village square, a sense of dread and the smell of blood lingering catching Azreal by surprise. The distance between Azreal and the Crimson Fang is over twenty metres, 'how much flesh has he consumed for his mouth to spew a thick pungent smell of blood?'. Azreal's thoughts begin to run wild, the desire to fight this monster and a soul crushing fear begin a vicious fight, each attacking Azreal's decision making ability with extremely valid points.
Azreal has an internal battle raging, fear vs battle lust, run or fight, with the desire for battle winning as he believes that he could log off if needed and return to the world once he was ready or hope that the monster mix man has left this location. Logic fails him, Azreal, forgetting his body stays in the location he left it and the system would take over his basic functionality. The desire to fight, the drive to become a man that would save those in need, the burning light within his soul is screaming for him to step up and try.
Crimson Fang's body turns into a blur, Azreal's eyes unable to keep up with his speed, feels a warm and dripping breath whisper to him, "This is no time to be overthinking." A dull pain radiates from Azreal's bicep, his eyes glancing and seeing the Crimson Fang's hand, which has began to deform, his nails becoming claws currently digging into his own flesh.
Using his undamaged arm, luckily his dominant right hand, Azreal draws his sword while activating his lightning technique, "Stormblade Surge, first form, Gathering Storm!" Azreal screams, his sword drawing heavily upon his Qi and igniting with sparks of lightning crackling around the blade. Azreal swings his sword to strike against the Crimson Fang's forearm, recovering from his fright, his strike is fast and deadly.
However, expecting his sharp blade to easily pass through his target's forearm, he felt his sword cut the first layer of resistance, before slowing down immensely, as if his sword was passing through wet sand. A cry of frustration escapes Azreal's lips, as the sword makes its way slowly through the Crimson Fang Orpald's arm, a notification appears in his vision.
Suddenly a wicked smile creeps across Azreal's face, he has forgotten that he managed to gain an Earth rank technique from Junai. With his increased cultivation base, Azreal, exertion clear in his words, shouts "Poisonous Sword stance". Azreal's eyes flicker with an earthy green, as a new stream of his Qi begins to mobilise towards his sword, the lightning continuing to flicker around his sword which has now begun to leak a deep dark green from the tip of his blade, as a small drop of this Qi forms a raindrop sized ball, it bursts and runs down the sharp of his sword, coating the blade in a venom of a monster of a 4th level Earth ranked monster.
Azreal's blade, now coated with a dark green poison Qi, and lightning Qi surrounding the blade, slices through the rest of the Crimson Fang's forearm with ease. The Crimson Fang Orpald, reels from the unexpected damage, before looking towards his new stump and laughing maniacally.
"Two affinities, huh? Earth and Lightning ... how interesting, I cannot wait to consume your flesh. The more diverse Qi you have, the tastier you become, those ten are only alive due to their bland and disgusting taste. You will taste as good as their Elder Sister, she was true delight, three affinities, I can still taste her flesh," screams the Crimson Fang, his body contouring further, as his head and neck begin to bend at strange angles, his one hand covering his face. He peeks through his fingers, maintaining eye contact with Azreal, as he manically screams about consuming the flesh of Azreal and others.
The pair of brothers that Azreal had seen before, begin to curse and scream at the Crimson Fang, "I curse your entire bloodline! I curse your wasteful life! I curse your soul!". Both brothers do not stop cursing Crimson Fang, as tears run down their cheeks. Azreal's eyes begin to burn from the ambient ash, the smell of burnt flesh and the metallic tang of blood, causing his bodily functions to cease.
The advantage he had gained, immediately lost, as the Crimson Fang's stump begins to regrow his forearm and hand. Azreal's eyes return to a clear crystal blue, momentarily his fragile mind resurfaces, thoughts of fleeing flood his mind along with confusion of his earlier battle lust. Due to his state of mind altering so quickly, Azreal's Qi is disrupted, halting the streams fueling his current abilities. His thoughts are now only of escape, to log off Heaven's Universe and leave this hellscape.
"FUCK!" screams Azreal, both of his hands rising to grip his head, smashing the hilt of his sword into his skull. The frustration quickly fades, as his eye colour dims to a pale, unfeeling grey, his sword begins to crackle with Lightning Qi and dripping venom Qi from Junai’s ability. His eyes tracing the Crimson Fang as the monster mix man darts towards two streams of blood flowing into the middle of the village square, now forming an orb of blood that is continually growing. Azreal, understanding the Crimson Fang is going to use the orb of blood, activates his Celestial Gaze.
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'This is a fucking stupid idea, if I do not die, I will surely never be the same'. Azreal, moving a massive amount of his Qi into his legs, empowering them using the 2nd form of the Stormblade Surge. Imbuing his legs and Azreal moves with lightning speed towards the blood orb, the stone underneath his feet cracking and each step becoming faster and heavier. Crimson Fang's eyes widen as he notices a second too late, Azreal passes him and is heading in the direction of the blood orb.
"Get back here!" he screams at Azreal, fear and loss smeared across his bloody and deformed face. "Crimson Awakening!" Orpald, the Crimson Fang screams at the top of his lungs. Azrael's movements become slower, as a thin wall of blood sprays against his back, his body now feeling as if someone had placed a five hundred kilo weight on his back. The blood that sprays against his back, arcs out from Crimson Fang in a dome surrounding him, causing what is not being burnt and turned to ash, to be soaked in blood, each of the ten disciples pierced through with bits of metal into wooden stakes, now freshly painted with blood from their tortured body and victims.
'Only a few more steps, I will make it!' internally shouting as the weight he feels begins to grow, pushing him onto his hands and knees. A moment passes, Azreal, crawling along the ground, leaving behind blood stains as he drags himself forward, pauses as a whisper reaches his ear "You made me waste my transformation, do you know how many young virgin disciples I have killed? Drained of blood and Qi? I spent years practising and hiding, all for you to force my hand early, due to one careless mistake of mine," Crimson Fang Orpald, puts his now animalistic clawed hand over Azreal's neck, picking him up as if he has weighed less than a feather.
Azreal, feeling the pressure that now envelopes him, turns his head to get a look at the Crimson Fang, his eyes widening in horror, as the sight before him is truly a mix of monster and man gone wrong.
Before Azreal, stands a failed mixture of a Crimson Wolf and man, the snout of a wolf, with human eyes, and concave sections of his skull, pulse as he is breathing. The mouth and chin, brought forward by the snout but remain unchanged, causing a face of true horror and distortion to sneer towards Azreal. The body of Crimson Fang, is tall, hunched with blood soaked fur now matted along his entire body and his legs have undergone a full transformation, into the legs of a Crimson Wolf. "I worked so hard for this moment! Sacrificed everything, I wanted my transformation to be full, I wanted the power of monsters to enhance my bloodline! Now look at me! I am disgusting, a creature that will be punished by the heavens!" A scream full of hatred and fear fills the village square. Taking his free hand, the Crimson Fang runs his now claw-like hand along the length of Azreal's back, each claw digging deep into Azreal's flesh, causing him to scream out in pain.
Azreal's eyes flickering between the crystalline blue and dim dead grey as the pain grows. 'If I die in this world, what happens?' Azreal's worst case scenario races into his mind, extinguishing all other thoughts. 'Will I really die? No one will find out until I'm decaying and the neighbours can no longer handle the smell. I hate my fucking life, I hate my fucking self, what a useless little life,' Azreal's criticism slicing his soul as his back receives the same treatment.
Crimson Fang Orpald currently wrapping his clawed hand around Azreal’s neck, lifts him and forces him to face the nearest disciple, "Now, watch as this monster kills each disciple here, before moving onto you and peeling your skin off, for my own enjoyment," Screams Crimson Fang Orpald, as he takes frantic steps towards the whimpering disciple.
Azreal retreats into his own mind, as he has done so for his entire life, and finds a scene more terrifying than the one he is currently living. His mindscape is cracking, sudden and illustrious light begins to spew through his mindscape, similar to a curtain falling, his mindscape falls away revealing a massive multi coloured tapestry, a story drawn in black ink, covering the entirety of his mindscape. No matter the direction Azreal turns, the tapestry is telling him a new tale, one of a Celestial Prince, favoured by the heavens and blessed by divinity, each section of this tapestry, tells a new story of this Celestial Prince.
The first section Azreal views, one of a young boy, lost in the darkness of a ravine of monsters chasing him, biting at his heels. The monsters depicted far exceed anything Azreal can imagine, they are similar to lovecraftian monsters from earth, one of Azreal's most read genres. The next section depicts a man, dressed in white and golden armour descending into the ravine, slaying the monsters and saving the boy, a smile wider than Azreal has ever felt, is intricately drawn onto the tapestry.
Closing his eyes, Azreal finds himself staring at another section, far removed with a distinctly different style, depicting a young man with similar characteristics to the young boy from earlier. This young man stands with an army of thousands at his back, his golden and jade sword, raised towards a black sea of monsters and men, the determination and confidence within the young man's eyes burning into the soul of Azreal.
"All of you, who stand here with me today, may not live to see tomorrow, we may not even get to see tonight's sunset. But! For those of you who are standing here even if you are petrified, just remember what we stand here for," shouts the voice, not an ounce of doubt or regret can be heard.
"We face this calamity, the bringer of ruins, so that those we love, those we cherish and those we wish to protect, can live to see tomorrow. I stand before you, with full knowledge, this may be our last battle together, however, just know that I would never change a single moment, for this is our fate! The fate to save the heavens and sunder the demons who dare stand before us!" the powerful voice, increasing in volume, rousing the spirits of those who stand at his back. Azreal's hearing returns to his mindscape as the sounds of cheering clash with the sounds of bloody war.
Azreal's mindscape, upon hearing the speech, begins to piece itself back together, "You are far weaker than expected, just how angry did we make the heavens?" the same voice that resounded earlier speaks, his voice powerful, yet kind bounces around his mindscape. "I will have to break one of the rules agreed, take this gift, use it well, it serves me faithfully," the voice fading as it finishes.
"Finally! You're awake, killing the last nine disciples was extremely boring with no crowd, my disdain for you grows ever larger," says Crimson Fang Orpald, his blood soaked lips splattering a mix of blood and spit into Azreal's face. The tenth disciple, the younger brother Azreal had seen earlier, is the last alive, noticing his distress and mental state, Azreal uses his now crystalline blue eyes to investigate the other nine disciples. A feeling of disgust begins to rise in Azreal, the sight of the half eaten corpses littering the ground beneath the wooden stakes.
"I'll fucking kill you, if it is the last thing I ever do," states Azreal, his tone firm and unyielding. "Come to me! Sword of the New Dawn, Calista!" Azreal's scream reaches the heavens. The air itself holds its breath, a hush falls upon the village square, even the fire becomes quiet. A flash of brilliant golden light, where his once steel sword was, now replaced with a weapon of unmatched grace and splendour.
Calista is a blade that is a marvel to behold, an ethereal white metal forms its blade, the light of flames surrounding them causing it to shimmer. The blade's white metal changes colour to a deep blood red, before quickly transforming into a dark ashen black, then a transformation into a crystalline blue. The hilt of the sword, wrapped in leather made from the most beautiful of creatures, the leather inviting Azreal to hold onto it and never let go. The blade in Azreal's hand feels perfect, as if there is a similar size hand groove already worn into the hilt. The cross guard of the sword, sat a single beautiful gem, which has been crushed into countless pieces, each shimmering with a light so bright it would blind the heavens.