Aza'zel let out a long sigh of exhaustion after reviewing the entire battle. Now that he'd reflected on things, he also knew that executing such finite content over power was much harder said than done.
For now, he would focus on the first stance until he was capable of manipulating the power output throughout his body just as fine as the blood puppet. Be it one point of power or a full ten points of power, he needed to execute them meticulously.
And so, his long hours of scouring for rodents, drinking blood, practicing the first martial stance until his muscles felt numb due to tension, then reflecting on the exchange with the blood puppet some more in his inner world while his physical body recuperated.
Aza'zel continued with this cycle for a full three days and nights. During these days, he learned how easy it was to launch a full-powered attack, but it was quite difficult to keep the full power in a state of passive dormancy while separating definitive volumes for use.
At the moment, Aza'zel could only stress the tension in his muscles up to three points of passive dormancy while channeling one point of power actively.
This conservation and concentration technique was too difficult for the current Aza'zel to completely master!
However, since he was forbidden from increasing his power by absorbing source energy and attempting the second transformation, this was his only way of getting stronger.
One step at a time, thought Aza'zel. For now, he couldn't concentrate his power on his hands and feet respectively, but concentrating the power throughout his entire upper body or lower body was doable.
Footsteps and water splashing, together with indistinct chatter quickly filled the world of echoes. Aza'zel slowly stood up, his body relaxed and tension-free as his ears twitched.
At long last, enemies whom he didn't wish to be his own followed him into the sewers. Aza'zel might be inexperienced in the ways of the world, but he knew the basics of hunting for prey or targeting your enemies to the dead end.
Isn't this what the myriad races of the Sacred Staircase are doing right now?
Aza'zel surveyed his surroundings, even though he couldn't see anything, he assumed others must be under the same circumstances in these underground sewers, unless they brought touches down here.
Nonetheless, the domain of a torch was just that much, nothing close to the range of his world of echoes.
Since they couldn't see him clearly…
Aza'zel smiled, picking his direction based on the closest source of chatter as Soulguider and Exsanguinator appeared in his right and left hands respectively.
The ancient revolvers seemed to phase between reality and illusion, the intricate floral patterns pulsing distinctly. Aza'zel felt a tug at his soul and bloodline as each gun took its respective ammunition from his body, two new bullets taking form in their respective chambers.
The ancient revolvers suddenly felt a bit heavy, and the young boy's face paled slightly while his consciousness experienced something akin to drowsiness.
Aza'zel almost tripped right there and then, and he got the subtle feeling that was he to attempt creating two additional bullets, either his soul would extinguish or his bloodline would lose all signs of vitality.
The realization frightened him greatly just as it had excited him. Just as he was feeling giddy, his perception was drawn into Soulguider, and the latter seamlessly projected a wide domain of soul sensory that overlapped with the world of echoes.
This was the same perceptiveness Aza'zel felt on that day when Caidie was in close proximity to him.
However, he realized now that when he had Soulguider equipped, the range of this perception far exceeded his immediate surroundings, but this type of perception that couldn't last long wasn't very helpful.
In the distance, five lonely souls were goofing around.
If soul power was based on the transparency of a person's soul in his perception, then these see-through souls reflected the presence of such weak individuals.
This tunnel was a stretch of darkness, and although Aza'zel couldn't see it, he could imagine a few lit torches wobbling through the dim corridor not that far away.
Be it in his soul perception domain or his world of echoes, the five tokens of inexperienced toy soldiers were as clear as clear could get.
Their life or death was but a single decision, a single thought, and perhaps one or two actions away from the current Aza'zel.
Aza'zel hesitated, took aim with Soulguider, and listened closely to the urging of this ravenous ancient revolver. Its appetite was so large, it took the initiative to project a beautiful finale into the young boy's mind.
He saw himself pulling the trigger, he saw a spherical projectile silently leave the bullet chamber and traverse the elegant barrel, quickly reaching the heart of the opposing group.
The bullet defied physics as it stood stationary under the curious eyes of the clueless and the dead. The bullet seemed to revolve, extracting five disarrayed silhouettes from the ruffians, rendering them all lifeless.
Mere husks, full of vitality yet devoid of spirit.
Painless, efficient, and soundless.
The vision shook Aza'zel to the core. Inhaling sharply, the young boy ignored the wracking discomfort in his body and soul, retrieved Soulguider and Exsanguinator, and proceeded to walk in the opposite direction where he sensed no activities whatsoever.
He couldn't do it after all.
He couldn't kill.
Not when he had the opportunity not to do so.
As long as he wasn't pushed into a corner, Aza'zel didn't wish to pull the trigger. Not now, not in the future, not ever.
"We've been here for almost an entire day," Aza'zel heard the clear voice of a young ruffian.
The voice continued, "How can someone survive that heavy rain of steel and the subsequent collapse of an entire building?"
Another voice asked, "What does subsequent mean?"
The earlier voice paused, not knowing how to respond for a moment. He rubbed his head, "I don't know, my boss said I can use it like this."
The other replied with a hint of admiration. "Your boss seems very smart, unlike mine. She's good at foreplay, though."
Aza'zel had the urge to come back and ask what did foreplay mean in exchange for explaining what the word subsequently meant, but he quickly thought better of it and disappeared into the darkness in the distance.
That search party seemed to be taking things at leisure, not at all concerned with whether or not they found him.
If all of their search parties were on this level, he was positive he could avoid their search ranges and detections until they either gave up or sent someone more capable.
Then again, no matter how capable the person they sent was, Aza'zel was a first transformation state supernatural who also practiced the martial forms of source energy, putting him on par with ordinary Rakshas.
He was only lacking in connections, human resources, manpower, and business. Well, he was lacking everything that qualified a Raksha, save for personal power.
Should he strive for the seat of a Rakaha too?
Aza'zel never thought about it before, but now that he planned to obtain the remaining stances and their accompanying martial forms from the aristocratic military divisions, connecting with them through the channels of the wastelands didn't seem like a bad idea.
For the first time since leaving the forbidden ground, Aza'zel felt like he had a clear direction toward his ultimate goal of power and hegemony.