The demons from the Legion of Deceit were known for one thing.
Just like their name, they never fought fair.
Tricks, traps, illusions, poison, curses—whatever it took to win, they would do it.
If you let your guard down, even for a moment, the next breath you take… might be your last.
Azhriel knew that.
He knew what kind of enemy he was facing.
So he walked forward with calm steps, his eyes sharp like a blade, his mind even sharper. Every sound, every movement, every shift in the air—he noticed it all.
Spatial Awareness Activated.
A soft chime echoed inside his head as the system responded.
He could feel everything within ten meters around him. The ground beneath his feet, the rustle of cloth, even the faint flicker of mana.
There were no surprises now.
Across from him, the Sergeant watched.
His grin widened slightly as Azhriel drew closer. The space around him pulsed—not loud, but deep, like distant thunder before a storm.
