"Crap!!"
Azazul yelled as his body slammed against the wall. The castle—no, the entire island beneath it—shook violently. The reason was obvious: the Rank 2 demon and Sylvia were locked in a one-on-one battle.
Following Sylvia's orders, Azazul and April had separated from her and were making their way toward the teleporter located on the upper floors of the castle. Azazul pushed open a door and entered the room. April set the destination on the control pad.
Together, they stood before the dark onyx ring, elevated by four steps. They exchanged a brief glance and nodded.
Azazul hated this.
Everyone in the castle—even the demons of darkness—had escaped, leaving Sylvia behind to face a Rank 2 demon alone. He wanted to help her… but what could he possibly do against such an enemy? In the end, he and April had no choice but to obey her orders.
They stepped onto the teleporter.
Suddenly, the doors behind them slammed open.
A servant stood there.
But something was terribly wrong.
Her eyes were blood-red, as if blood had flooded her pupils entirely. Tears of crimson streamed down her cheeks.
'What the hell?'
The servant walked toward them with unnaturally smooth steps. When she spoke, it wasn't her feminine voice that echoed through the room—but a deep, demonic one.
"Where is the bastard?!"
Azazul wore the mask Sylvia had given him, along with the locket. His face was hidden by the half-mask, its onyx fangs sharp as a scalpel, while his eyes were obscured by an impenetrable mirage. The possessed servant couldn't recognize him.
His gaze dropped to her right hand.
A scythe had formed—but not an ordinary one. It was entirely made of blood.
Azazul glanced at April. She was already summoning her weapon. She met his eyes, worry written all over her face.
"Leave… now!!"
With his back to the teleporter, Azazul replied firmly,
"No. I already ran and deserted one person. I won't do it twice."
April stared at him but said nothing.
The servant suddenly lunged forward with unbelievable speed.
Before Azazul could react, April slammed her left hand into his chest, sending him flying backward into the teleporter.
But Azazul had expected this.
As his body was pulled through the portal, he grabbed April's forearm and yanked her into his embrace, dragging her along with him.
He didn't need to open his eyes to know he had succeeded.
He could feel her clinging to him—as if she had accepted his hold.
On the other side of the portal, the blood-eyed servant stared at the onyx ring as its light dimmed. She glanced at the control pad—the destination had already been erased. Her blood scythe receded back into her arm.
Calmly, she left the room.
Azazul and April crashed onto a hard stone floor, rolling together before coming to a stop. Azazul lay beneath her, April resting on top of him.
Her dark black hair brushed against his face.
Azazul looked around. The location was painfully familiar.
He would be a fool not to recognize it.
They were back on the second mountain of Azaroth.
Bathed in pale moonlight, the cabin stood in the distance—still pristine, unlike the village.
A low voice murmured beneath his chin.
"This is… soooo much—wait!"
April quickly jumped off him and stepped back.
"S-sorry about that, my prince," she said hurriedly. "I didn't mean to— I mean, I didn't mean to lay on you while you're still injured."
Azazul shook his head lightly.
"It's fine. And please—just call me Azazul. I don't like the whole 'Prince' thing."
Turning away, he headed toward the cabin.
"Follow me."
April did.
Inside, Azazul went to the bed on the right—his bed, before Akiko had claimed it. April took Matthew's bed. Before Azazul could rest, his stomach growled loudly.
Letting out a sigh, he walked to the table. On it sat a brown chest Matthew had left behind. Since they'd been on the second mountain before the attack, most of their belongings were still there.
Azazul pulled out a few ingredients and glanced at April, scratching the back of his head nervously.
"Uh… April… I can't really cook. Do you mind?"
"I wouldn't mind," she replied immediately.
"Azazul."
She placed a hand on his shoulder, her voice gentle.
"You should rest. I'll make something to eat."
Azazul nodded and layed down, removing his cloak and draping it over his bare upper body. He activated one of its enchantments, and warmth spread through him instantly.
April gathered what she needed for a meat stew and stepped outside.
Azazul tried to rest.
But he couldn't.
Not because of his wounds—but because of what he had learned.
The reason he couldn't purify his core.
To do so, he had to kill someone.
That truth shattered everything.
He had promised himself he would only kill guardians or demons—but to reach the power needed to face them, he would have to kill deities… and possibly humans.
Only then would he stand a chance.
Now he was trapped between two paths:
Kill only deities and hope it would be enough.
Or kill everyone—deities and humans alike.
Corrupted creatures wouldn't saturate his core. Only deities… and maybe humans.
As he layed there, he remembered ordering his shapeshifter to kill the purple-eyed deity with darkflames. In the heat of battle, it had felt justified.
'Now?'
It felt like murder.
What he had witnessed as they were consumed together still haunted him.
Azazul let out a fragile chuckle.
"Is this really how it ends… with me turning into a mass murderer?"
"If I continue… how many deities will fall to my blade?"
"And how many….. humans?"
After his core had been saturated by dark light, he felt his power increase—his senses sharpening. But there was something else.
His logic had grown colder.
When April had told him to leave her behind, part of him had actually wanted to do it.
That terrified him.
The change was irreversible.
His inner voice had grown louder, overwhelming his emotions. After killing three deities, his feelings had begun to fade, replaced by ruthless clarity.
April entered the cabin, concern clear on her beautiful face.
"You heard that… didn't you?" Azazul said quietly.
April looked down, embarrassed, her hands fidgeting behind her back.
"I didn't mean to eavesdrop… Azazul."
He sighed.
"I know how sharp a deity's senses are. It's fine."
"Is the food almost ready?"
"Yes," she nodded. "Almost."
She grabbed more supplies and left again.
Azazul's thoughts drifted to Akiko.
Now that he was in the human realm—and had Sylvia's locket—he could join her and Meira at the academy.
'I just hope no other deity comes looking for me…'
'Or worse—a demon.'
Demons were something else entirely. Pure evil. They possessed multiple dominant divine lineages, far more than most guardians. Only a fraction of them ever awakened three.
That was why Azazul was such a threat.
And yet—even at his peak—a single guardian or demon could still kill him.
Which meant he needed power.
But he had hit a wall.
For now, though, he had human problems to deal with.
His father.
Infiltrating the castle would be dangerous. Using the Belial alias could work—but he couldn't use his divine lineages without exposing himself.
The tournament was another option. Victory would grant protection—and access.
Too many risks. Too many paths.
'Looks like I'll have my hands full.'
He looked down at his battered body beneath the cloak and sighed.
"Can you heal a little faster? I still have school, you know…"
The door opened.
"The food is ready, Azazul."
He stood from the bed, draped the cloak over his shoulders, and stepped outside.
They ate in silence for a while.
Finally, Azazul spoke.
"Hey, April… if you don't mind me asking—how old are you?"