Death Heir’s Devouring System

With a frown, Azrael gripped her hand, stopping her in place.

"Let go." She spoke coldly, glaring daggers at him.

His grimace only deepened. "Are you mental? Don't you see what she is doing? Raven kidnapped Isolde, most likely guessing how much she meant to you. If you gather the whole camp to go after her, you are going to play right into her hands. Don't forget we are on a timer. If we fail to kill the Death Knight before the Queen becomes an Apex, we are doomed!"

With a simple gesture, she freed her hand. "Even so! Ensuring Isolde's safety is most vital. I can guess that they are planning to use her to guide them through the Ruined Kingdom towards the King."

Her palms clenched into fists. "I know how the Proven think, no… Chosen in general. Once she is no longer useful, they would discard her. I have to get her back before that happens."

'Why?' Azrael gritted his teeth. 'Why are people so emotional? Can't they see that their feelings would lead to their demise? In this world, being overly emotional would result in nothing more than your own death.'

He observed the Chosen—the way they moved, the pure hatred in their eyes. They were blinded by their reverence for Isolde, whom they considered an angel. They were blinded by the fact that they were about to go against Proven. People they had no business fighting.

'I can foresee what happens. They go, they fail, and I am left alone to get rid of the Death Knight.' Azrael analyzed, keeping a clear head. He was strong; with his armor being of the Radiant Purity Rank, he was magnitudes stronger than before. But even that didn't guarantee his win over the boss monster. He would either need to get even stronger or get help from others.

And like it or not, he had to rely on the people he had entered the Rift with.

"Go towards the kingdom and find the Death Knight as we all agreed upon." He took a deep breath. "I am going to bring Isolde back to you."

She shook her head. "No, her safety is my concern. I am not letting her life be in someone else's hands."

'Weakness, weakness.' Azrael cursed the mindset of weakness, of vulnerability, of prey, of emotion.

"Listen to me!" He shouted, feigning anger, which at least managed to startle her and every other Chosen nearby.

"The reason I have stayed here and helped with the protection of the camp was for this moment—for when I would need help to slay the boss monster. So either do your duty and locate it while I go save Isolde—"

His voice grew ice cold, vines bulging all over his skin, eyes ready to go for the kill.

"—Or I will slaughter every single person in the camp. If you are marching to your death, then I might as well make use of your souls."

She met his gaze, unfazed. "You wouldn't dare."

Taking a step closer, he spoke. "Even you will not be able to stop me. So either do as I order, or say goodbye to your little camp."

With a flick of his finger, he called forth Cinder. The ashen bird caused the Chosen to stagger back, not expecting such a fearsome-looking being to appear right in the middle of the camp. Not bothering to pay them any attention, Azrael stepped upon the Remembrance's back. Just before he soared through the skies in search of the girl, he left them off with the warning.

"If I see a single Chosen going the same way I am, I will slaughter you all."

Before anyone could hurl a retort his way, he was high in the skies in hot pursuit.

"You have better perception than me, so find her," Azrael commanded.

Cinder screeched, crimson eyes starting to scan the area ahead.

A sigh escaped Azrael's lips, now that he had the opportunity to relax just after waking up. His exhaustion dawned upon him. Not that it was surprising—he had run for days until reaching the camp. Just 8 hours of sleep wasn't going to fix him up.

He flicked, and a moment later Gray's Cigar appeared in his hands. While his mind raced about what to do, he took a deep puff, feeling his exhaustion lessen.

"Just a few hours ago I considered killing Raven in her sleep impossible… And now I have to do it while she is awake?"

He laughed at the absurdity of the situation. How could he have expected that Isolde was going to be kidnapped?

"What's done is done… better focus on the present."

The strong wind whipped his snow-white hair to the side. Hopefully he was going to find Raven before she reached the Hollow Tree. If he failed to do that, he wasn't getting Isolde back; that was for certain.

He took a glance at his system interface, searching for anything that could give him a fighting chance.

Name: [Azrael]

Race: [Human]

Inborn Trait: [Heir of Death]

Ascension Level: [Marked]

Purity Rank: [Blessed]

Corruption Rank: [Twisted]

Skills: [Inspect], [Blood Manipulation]

Items: [Document], [Gravebloom], [Frostflare Flint], [Maiden Skin], [Mother Needle], [Teapot], [Gray's Cigar], [Truth Devourer], [Heartroot]

Remembrances: [Ashfeather]

A few minutes passed in tense silence. Finally, once he formulated a plan, he called forth Mother Needle.

Inspecting the blade that was left from Champion Frederick, he steeled his resolve.

"Come on, I have slain a Champion before, a mere Proven shouldn't pose that much of a threat."

Without hesitation, he pricked his left palm, drawing blood. Then, extending it to the side, he used [Blood Manipulation].

The blood shivered and dispersed to all four sides simultaneously like a spray. Traveling as far from him as possible, drops would fall on the black soil every few meters.

"This might be my most desperate plan as of yet," he muttered, seeing the way his blood was falling down like rain.

Still, a plan—no matter how reckless—was a plan.

The farther he traveled, the larger the path of blood he left behind became. Naturally, since it was a human's blood, it began to attract the attention of monsters hiding in the Golden Lands. They moved slowly, starting to follow the trail.

The more time passed, the bigger the monster tide behind Azrael became, yet he didn't show worry of being shot down as he continued.

His focus was solely on the path Cinder was taking him along. Eventually, he began to notice signs of someone having passed through the area—faint footprints visible even from his high altitude. Broken branches, even monster corpses from time to time.

A fool could guess that he was being guided in a certain direction.

Yet his prey was probably expecting a group of weak Chosen to come after her… not a tide of monsters.

A slow smirk curled up on his lips.

Raven had kidnapped Isolde, which could be considered a low move.

And a hero or a righteous person would never stoop so low as to be on a level playing field with their enemies.

Good thing that Azrael was neither.

So he was going to go even lower.

As low as he humanly could.