Death Heir’s Devouring System

Thandor gazed silently at Azrael, his eyes narrowed momentarily, no doubt using [Inspect] to gauge his strength.

After a second, the Proven scoffed and shifted his gaze towards Isolde.

"Is this your attempt to cover for your teammate?" Thandor asked calmly. He wasn't having it that Azrael had managed to best Raven.

He was, after all, some no name and there were two Marked considered as angels behind him.

With an arched brow, Azrael pointed at the man with his scythe.

"Few use scythe weapons like me; the wounds the weapon leaves behind are unmistakable." He paused for a brief second before adding, "Also, the blood left by those that fall under its blade causes the greenery in the surroundings to grow faster."

A mischievous smile appeared on Azrael's face. "Sound familiar?"

Thandor tightened his jaw slightly, a subtle action Azrael didn't miss.

His plan was working. So he pressed on.

"She wasn't as tough as I thought she would be. I mean, I expected her to have more weapons; she just used some kind of whip and a reaper."

He mentioned the weapons that she had in her arsenal to give more merit to his claim.

At that moment, Thandor's eyes darkened with such menace they seemed capable of cutting through anything with a single glance.

Slowly, more Proven emerged from the mist. Their leader had judged remaining undetected wasn't needed, so they followed his lead. Each one had heard the exchange from the start, leading them to stare at Azrael with killing intent.

Yet the Heir of Death showed no fear or hesitation. His plan was in motion; all he had to do was act upon it.

A few seconds passed in tense silence, then Thandor spoke.

"In her final moments did she… say anything about me?"

'Ah.' Azrael's eyes widened momentarily. Instantly he knew that Thandor had feelings for Raven. Not that he could blame the man—she had a striking appearance and had been the only one close to his power level.

A welcome fact that he could exploit. All he had to do was play his cards right.

"No." Azrael flicked his finger, calling forth Cinder. In a flash, he was upon the Remembrance's back, ready to fly away from the area.

"She didn't have time to do so. Her pride and arrogance clouded her judgment. The idea of losing against a mere Marked must have looked so ridiculous to her that she didn't even consider that possibility."

A dry laugh escaped Azrael's mouth as the ashen Remembrance spread its wings wide, about to soar through the skies at staggering speed.

"Gods, it's a pity that you didn't see her final moments!" Azrael taunted. "The moment my scythe met her neck, the way her arrogance faded replaced by fear of a helpless girl. How her eyes trembled with fear as her head dropped to the ground. A pity, really—a beauty such as herself perishing in such a gruesome way because no one could fix that arrogant mindset."

This caused Thandor to tip over the edge; faster than one could blink, he pounced on Azrael. A giant twinblade weighing hundreds of kilograms materialized in his grip. One edge gave off a tearing cold that would freeze anything it touched, while the other side glowed so hot, it rivaled boiling magma.

The moment the man tilted his hand to the side, he caused the twinblade to rotate into a violent tornado. It gave off a threatening aura capable of harming even beings beyond Thandor's level.

Azrael was nowhere near him by then. In a flash, Cinder soared through the skies, with his master seated securely on the Remembrance's back. He laughed coldly in an attempt to aggro Thandor toward himself.

"AZRAEL!" The Proven roared, the stone beneath him shattered, sending chunks flying in every direction from the sheer power of his step.

Faster than one could blink, he shot forward like an arrow, eyes locked on Azrael's flying figure. Raw bloodlust radiated from his body, eager to carve Azrael to pieces.

"Thandor!" The Proven shouted, rushing after their leader in a hurry to aid him in battle.

Thanks to their enhanced bodies from their Proven Ascension Level, they moved much faster than the Marked could hope to perceive.

It took less than a minute for the whole group of Proven to get away from the Marked.

Silence descended in the valley; usually after such loud outbursts, monsters would have begun to assault any humans nearby. But since the knight army passed quite recently throughout the area, there was nothing but deadly silence.

"Now this is a tragedy," Victor was the first to break the silence. "If he was planning to challenge the Proven to a battle, I thought he would at least take me for the fun ride."

The reality slowly fell on the shoulders of the Chonen. Had Azrael, the one that threatened to kill them if they went against his orders, sacrificed himself in order for them to live?

If Azrael could have heard their thoughts, he would have burst into maniacal laughter.

Him?

Sacrificing himself?

Quite the opposite, in fact—the only reason he had enraged Thandor and the whole group of Proven was because he knew how to outplay them all.

But of course, no one could have known his true motives. That really made them believe he had sacrificed his life for their survival.

"Well, he did save Isolde…"

"He played a major role in the defense of the camp too."

His actions had unintentionally elevated his status among the Marked to the same angelic level reserved for Seraphina and Isolde.

Not a consequence he had expected, but one he welcomed nonetheless.

"Move!" Seraphina, one of the few that managed to grasp his true intent, rallied the Chosen. "Don't let Azrael's sacrifice be in vain! We must slay the Death Knight at once!"

Eyes blazing with determination, they shot north faster than before. They were prepared to give their own lives, should that mean the defeat of the boss monster!

"Now, let's see how hard it is to get the Proven off my tail," Azrael mused, taking a puff of Gray's Cigar—not because he received any healing effect, but simply because it calmed his mind.

He spared a look at the furious crowd pursuing him for his life.

"This will be fun." He mused.