Cultivators stood in shock at the immense power displayed by the two combatants. Kal's final technique was undeniably potent, a manifestation befitting a Profound Sovereign Cultivator. His mastery was evident in every aspect of the technique. However, all of Kal's efforts proved inconsequential in the face of Azrael's formidable fist, and the robust and potent energy emanating from Azrael dispersed the might of Kal's techniques effortlessly.
Azrael had only disclosed the truth of his cultivation to Kal, and the surrounding cultivators remained oblivious to its nature. Even Azrael's revelation about a new cultivation system had only reached Kal's ears. The onlookers believed Azrael was utilizing a supreme technique that enhanced his physique by harnessing qi, attributing the abnormal effects to this unknown method. If Azrael had been weaker, the opportunistic and greedy cultivators surrounding them might have seized the chance to attack.
In the realm of cultivation, numerous Qi techniques existed to enhance the physique to a great degree. Even the fundamental use of Qi involved strengthening and supporting the physical body, as cultivators couldn't fully cultivate their bodies. While a cultivator's body was already significantly stronger than that of non-cultivators, with fists capable of shattering metals in the non-cultivation world, there were limits to the basic amplification of Qi. That's why Techniques that focused on supporting the body were often utilized by brawler-type cultivators.
However, what the onlookers witnessed from Azrael surpassed the norm. His "technique" stood at the pinnacle of such enhancements at least in their won knowledge. Yet, in the face of Azrael's overwhelming strength, the spectators could only acknowledge their own relative weakness, quietly contemplating these thoughts in the recesses of their minds.
Kal's lifeless body slowly slumped to the ground, the echoes of his final battle fading away. In the end, he had met his demise while fiercely fighting for his cause. Despite the initial terror that had gripped him, causing a fleeting desire to flee upon witnessing Bianca's formidable power, he had rallied against his own weak will. Kal fought resolutely, driven by a deep commitment to defend the prince, whom he treated as his own son.
Azrael walked slowly towards the prince, his gaze piercing and voice steady.
"You had a great elder, but you proved to be a fool. If you had followed his genuine advice, he might have survived. You might have survived. How foolish," Azrael remarked, his words carrying a weight of reproach.
The prince remained silent, his gaze fixed on the lifeless body of Kal.
"Kill me," he finally uttered after a prolonged silence.
"Sure I will, and I will make sure to end your life painfully and slowly. After all, you desired my wife to the point of using military might. I just can't let that go," Azrael coldly declared, his words carrying a chilling determination.
Azrael extended his hands, seizing the prince's head with a firm grip, accompanied by a subtle cracking sound that elicited anguished cries from the prince.
"Arghh!"
He hoisted him into the air and delivered forceful punches to the prince's chest, causing various parts of his ribs to crack audibly. Coughs of blood escaped the prince's lips as his body soared a considerable distance before colliding with a colossal rock. Azrael meticulously controlled his strength, refraining from employing his full power to prevent inadvertently extinguishing the prince's last breath.
Azrael, fueled by a tempest of emotions, slowly approached the struggling prince. Each step echoed through the Corrupted Region, a somber cadence marking the continuation of the relentless beating. The air was thick with tension as Azrael, with measured precision, delivered each blow, determined to imprint the weight of consequences upon the prince.
As Azrael's measured blows relentlessly landed on the prince, the brutality of the assault left an indelible mark on the once-arrogant figure. Each strike distorted the prince's features, rendering his face unrecognizable. The symphony of cracking ribs and pained gasps was accompanied by the ghastly transformation of the prince's visage.
By the time Azrael delivered the final forceful blow, the prince's countenance bore no resemblance to the confident and arrogant young man who had initiated this ill-fated encounter. The distant impact against the unyielding rock served as the morose punctuation to the prince's acceptance of his inevitable demise.
Azrael, standing amidst the aftermath, gazed upon the unrecognizable form of the prince. The prince, once a symbol of arrogance, now lay battered and unrecognizable, his every gasp carrying the weight of his ill-fated choices. The echoes of his final exhale mingled with the eerie stillness that settled upon the desolate landscape, creating an unsettling harmony of mortality.
The onlookers, a collective audience to the brutal spectacle, bore witness to a scene that sent shivers down their spines. Horror was etched into their eyes, replacing any inkling of desire that may have lingered earlier. The once-tempting prospect of seizing Azrael's technique vanished like a fleeting dream.
The power Azrael displayed in his clash with Kal had instilled a certain fear, but it was the aftermath of the prince's relentless beating that struck the deepest chords of dread. The unrecognizable state of the prince, a result of the punishment dealt by Azrael's heavy fists, had a profound impact on the onlookers.
In the face of such brutality, the lingering desire to covet Azrael's technique was swiftly replaced by a stark realization of the consequences. The Corrupted Region, a witness to the ebb and flow of power, echoed with the collective fear of those who had dared to challenge the unpredictable forces that governed their realm.
"Have you seen the prince's state? This could spark a war with the Eastern Kingdom."
"The man might be powerful, but challenging an entire kingdom is a different matter. Is he unafraid of the consequences?"
"Shh! Keep your voice down! We don't want to attract his attention. He could erase us without a second thought."
The whispered conversations underscored the palpable fear coursing through the elder cultivators. The seasoned cultivators exchanged furtive glances, their hushed whispers barely audible amid the tense air. Fear threaded their conversations, as they cautiously discussed the looming repercussions that would inevitably follow the prince's demise. In the eyes of these elders, the act of extinguishing the life of a royal figure from the formidable Eastern Kingdom felt like a direct challenge to the entire realm. However, their murmurs were laced with trepidation, careful not to offend the powerful being, Azrael, who stood before them, an entity capable of unraveling their world with ease.
The whispers of concern among the older cultivators reached Azrael's ears, their hushed discussions centering on the consequences that would undoubtedly trail in the wake of the prince's demise. In the eyes of these seasoned individuals, ending the life of a royal figure from the Eastern Kingdom was akin to challenging the entire realm. However, did it perturb Azrael? Not in the slightest.
For Azrael, the weight of a kingdom's retaliation was inconsequential. His power surpassed the bounds of mortal concerns, capable of reshaping not just the destiny of a realm, but the very fabric of the cosmos. The notion of challenging an entire kingdom, in the grand tapestry of Azrael's existence, seemed nothing more than a fleeting shadow against the brilliance of his capabilities.