Then Azriel moved—vanishing, leaving behind a curling trail of black mist that blossomed into roses of shadow.
In an instant, he was in front of the demon. Its ape-like features twisted into a mocking huff, as if to say:
Don't bother.
The club came down in a blur—so fast that it was already a breath away from smashing into Azriel's bloodied face. At the very last moment, he dropped low, the weapon whistling over his head. The demon snarled, switching grips with impossible speed, and brought the club down in a vertical arc that would fuse Azriel and the road into one smear.
It never connected.
Azriel slid between its legs in a low pivot, turning on his heel to face its massive back. Void Eater slashed down in a vertical line.
Black blood burst forth.
From the wound, dark tendrils writhed to life, burrowing inward, draining strength from the creature. The demon's roar shook the air—only for the abyssal to lunge, its jagged blade aimed for Azriel's ribs.
