"The demons prayed to you but all they got were pain and humiliation," she said. "Their current conditions should give you worries."
"You should worry about yourself, little girl." Azkiel looked at her in the way a butcher stares at a lamb. "You're so ambitious, don't you? But if you think that a set of cheap sealing diagrams and a puny torturous formation can seal me, then you are mistaken. Terribly mistaken."
It was Azkiel's turn to clap.
First clap of Azkiel's vengeance, the room became brutal cold. The pregnant silence gave birth to a spine-chilling atmosphere. Time slowed down. Darkness got choked by judgment's arrival.
Azkiel stepped forward, eyes still staring at his prey, then he broke the sealing inscriptions in his body in the way a hammer smashes a glass. Taking another step, he cast a spell that converted the pain he felt into a stream of energies which swiftly circulated into his new body.
This human body has no talent in cultivating Blood Essences, so he can only cultivate Spirit Energies at the moment. But the pain felt by this human body was high enough that Azkiel activated Painful Price: a Demonic Spell that converts the amount of pain suffered by its user into malignant energy.
The spell's power rose along with the increasing degree of injuries and the amount of blood loss that Azkiel took. This demonic spell created the saying: What hurts you, makes you stronger.
Azkiel noticed that the masked woman wanted to stop him by activating some kind of hidden mechanism in the puny formation laying across the floor. But she was late. Too late.
Second clap of Azkiel's retaliation, time crawled in the way a crippled old man moved in a snowy mountain.
Within this slow-assed snail passage of time, Azkiel separated his consciousness into three parts again. The first part of his consciousness controlled the demonic spell, the second part cultivated the malignant energy gathered in his dantian into pure Spirit Energies, and the last part of Azkiel's consciousness took the pleasure in seeing the masked woman act with desperation.
But Azkiel continued the delivery of his judgment. So he took another step, and within a split second, he cast another demonic spell that was called Blood Reconnection.
The pool of blood laying below started to rise then form red streams that flowed back into Azkiel's body. His injuries healed instantly and it seemed that he didn't suffer any kind of damage in the first place.
His Demonic Spell, Painful Price, finished its job when his body was fully healed, and the amount of malignant energy stored in his dantian was high enough that he could finally give a bloody gift to the masked woman.
Third clap of Azkiel's perverted revenge.
The spine-chilling atmosphere of the room evolved into a scenery of horror where a man's balls would freeze in fear.
Azkiel presented his bloody gift to the masked woman as he detonated his temporary human body.
The explosion, then, was orgasmic. It showered everything with any gory shit that a man would spill when his body explodes into tiny bits.
At this moment, Azkiel was finally free from the cheap chains, so he's chilling like a villain, and floating in mid-air with his soul form. Then he stared straight, not wanting to miss the spectacle he had made.
In a slow slide of a swift scene, a red pit blossomed in the spot where Azkiel previously stood. Around the newly formed shallow hole, the floor cracked, holes emerged, candles flickered and flew, then the pressure burst outwards like waves made by bombing a sea.
A loud bang rang as the raging waves of the gory bomb came crashing to the masked woman. The bloody delicacy hit her too fast that she was not able to scream.
She flew backward, her eyes widened, and her mask broke as the red waves hammered it.
Then she hit the walls with the back of her head smashing the cold stones which started to crack. Blood showered from the impact then fell towards her as she dropped to the ground.
Her face contorted into a grimacing expression but it was beautiful enough that Azkiel paused for a second.
The masked woman seemed like a princess that was told in a fairy tale mixed with a little bit of horror.
The woman's skin shone white with red blood running stripes in her square-shaped face. Her dark, deep blue eyes are now paired with sharp eyebrows, squinting from the pain she currently felt. Her lips lethal with a pinkish glow and subtle seduction. And her short hair was black as her ambitious dreams.
Blood and bones!
This is the problem of seeing a beautiful woman. Just a single look at her and your soul will get suck by the addictive satisfaction she gives.
Beautiful women are like a spider's web, and the best way to stay unharmed is to never jump on their traps.
Azkiel would advise you to forget about them once they turn against you. Beautiful women might love you. But when they start to hate you, they'll watch you die on the sidewalks and they'll spit your dying body.
One moment ago she was like a sheep that was about to be butchered, the next moment she became a spider that was about to leap forward towards its target.
She stood quickly, straight and still, holding a familiar dagger in her right hand.
Azkiel wanted to take his time to appreciate and indulge the spicy curves of this damn beautiful woman. But a menstruated panty slapped his face with bloody realization that the dagger she held was awfully familiar.
That weapon she held was called Demandred's Dagger if Azkiel was not mistaken. It was a Divine Weapon that terrified the Ancient Gods during the Antiquity Era. The masked woman might not be able to use its full power but this weapon can slay souls even with the slightest touch.
Its owner, Demandred, was once a Dark Lord and a Shadowless Assassin, but Azkiel forced him to become the first Grim Ripper in exchange for his dark deeds. Demandred. He was such a good friend and a terrible enemy.
Back to the pretty, murderous princess with a damned dagger in her hand. She knew that Azkiel was now in his soul form and she is ready to slay, or just threatened him.
Her lips curled in a sly curve, preparing to say her menacing demands. But she stopped dead in her tracks after her eyes saw the last part of Azkiel's bloody gift.
The temporary human body of Azkiel had once exploded into bits of gory crap, but it was now starting to form back in one piece. The scraps of flesh, bags of blood, splinters of bones, and any grisly stuff, was connected piece by piece in the way a swift scholar puts a jigsaw puzzle back into its original form.
These were all done through the Renegade Reversal: a demonic ability that restores a broken body through the malignant energies gathered in the surroundings. This technique can transform the broken body into a much stronger body if combined with the demonic spell, Painful Price.
When the six-foot flesh stood on the broken floor, Azkiel jumped into it, then he quickly adapted to the human body. It felt good to be back. It felt good that he can do something spicy in the next moment.
The dangerous princess seemed stunned for a second but her eyes flickered with defiance and she tightened her grip on Demandred's Dagger.
"What are you?" she asked.
"A Demon God talking to his future wife." Or an insect that will soon be crushed. Well, it depends on what will Azkiel feel in the next moment.
Time froze after Azkiel appeared in front of the attractive maiden, who wanted to take a step backward and move to slash him with Demandred's Dagger. But she only got her eyes widened when Azkiel kissed her, lips to lips.
Their feelings danced together. Azkiel in his sweet satisfaction; the lovely maiden in her surprising surrender. Azkiel got his right hand on her head and the other hand on her waist. Both had their eyes closed. Their breaths merged into an ethereal melody.
If you can find someone you can hold and close your eyes with, then you're fortunate. Even if it only lasts for a second, it will always be treasured in your memories.
It was not bad to enjoy this moment but vengeance needs to finish its job. So Azkiel cast the desolate spell, Untimely Oblivion, as he pushed the woman towards her mind.
Then she fell, and was falling further into the dark depths of her despair.
Azkiel followed her, not to help, but to watch her cry.