Kerip lunged again, his movements blurring into streaks of black lightning. But this time, Azhriel was ready.
The instant Kerip closed the distance, Azhriel's form flickered—then vanished.
(Switch.)
He reappeared several meters away, cold mist curling from his boots as frost gathered around him.
Without hesitation, he raised his hand, and sharp spears of ice formed midair — a dozen, then two dozen — all gleaming with pale blue light.
Swish—swish—swish!
The air split as the ice spears shot forward like arrows, screaming through the room toward the demon.
Kerip didn't slow down.
He charged straight into the barrage, his body crackling with black lightning. Each spear that touched him shattered with a thunderous crack, reduced to snow and shards by his fists alone.
"Hah! Pathetic!" he barked, lightning surging around his body like a storm.
But before he could advance again—
Azhriel vanished once more.
