As sweat trickled down Azazel's face, he observed the approaching soldiers, well aware of the limitations imposed by his diminished form and the scarcity of mana and power.
"I wouldn't last long against this many demons and devils in my current state," Azazel reflected inwardly. "I owe my chances of survival to Nori releasing Ren and the others."
Taking a deep breath, he grinned, "Well, everything's going to work out in the end." He laughed.
The soldiers rapidly closed in, their menacing expressions revealing their intent to kill.
Azazel gulped and added, "I hope."
With magic at the ready and a common knife in hand, Azazel clashed with the soldiers, unleashing bursts of energy that illuminated the darkening sky.
Azazel dove into the chaos, his instincts overriding any inclination to hesitate. Fear and the notion of retreating from a fight were not part of his inherent nature.
