Azazel felt the cold intent behind Akathartos' words.
His bones creaked in protest, his muscles urging him to flee.
For a heartbeat, Azazel let his gaze linger on Akathartos, then he laughed.
It wasn't a confident one.
It was the kind of laugh someone made when things had already spiraled beyond their control.
"Oh sure," Azazel wheezed, wiping the blood trailing down from his eyes."Let me just… pull out the wills of a mythical serpent and a legendary raven I apparently have lying around waiting for my call."
Then he sneered.
"You fool, If I knew how to do so do you think I'd be watching you toss my ass around like a ragdoll!"
Akathartos moved, ignoring Azazel's tantrums.
The obsidian blade sang through the air with a metallic hum.
Azazel barely had time to react.
He twisted aside, but the edge still nicked his shoulder.
A line opened immediately causing blood to splurt out.
"Argh! Sonova—"
"Pathetic reaction speed."
