Azazeal didn't even glance at them. They were nothing more than expendable tools, to be discarded the moment they ceased to be useful. Even the shadow generals were remembered only by their numbers by him, let alone the Rulers he so much despised.
There was no need to even assign them numbers—they really didn't deserve that.
He questioned coldly.
"Understood?"
Valance nodded, followed by the others, their eyes completely blank, with nothing.
None dared even to think of resisting, let alone fighting back. This was the power of absolute supremacy. Trembling, they all scrambled out of the clearing, vanishing into the mist to leave the realm and carry out his order to destroy their own world.
Azazeal spoke again after they were all gone, his voice deep, low, and merciless.
"As a reward, I will grant you a death that's less painful—only... if I remember you."
A cold, empty laugh followed—soft, mirthless, and utterly cruel.
