Alexander looked at the two—calm, smiling, almost amused.
And then, without warning, he picked up a chunk of rubble.
No technique. No flair. Just a throw.
But the rock—no, the boulder—obliterated Azriel's entire right side on impact.
He collapsed to his knees, blood erupting as if reality itself tore with him.
Leirza shouted, but the sound was drowned out by Alexander's cold, final words:
"Time to go after the rest."
He stepped forward casually, as if the battle was already over.
But then—
Azriel's hand moved. His remaining eye pulsed.
And the void twisted.
Leirza's body dissolved into shadow—merging with Azriel, anchoring to the very part that was destroyed. Ice and void pulsed through Azriel's veins, knitting his body into something else.
Hair white. Eyes black.
Emotion gone.
He stood.
Unconscious... but more awake than ever.
He gripped Alexander by the arm with a monstrous strength—void coiling from his fingertips.
