Godslayers never existed in the celestial realm until Azrael rose to power as the Dark God.
Azrael was the first to kill a god in battle—a crime the supreme ones despised.
A god ending the life of another god meant that the balance of the reincarnation cycle for that specific god would come to an end.
In simple terms, they would die forever. Because of this, Azrael was cursed with a mark indicating he was a threat to the celestial realm: the possession of Qi.
Common knowledge held that Qi was a special kind of energy humans used to enhance their bodies and physical abilities.
Overall, it made them ten times stronger than an average man.
However, it was different when a celestial being possessed Qi.
It became a stain on the gods' name, a mark that would last forever—since, well, gods don't die.
Azrael, the power-obsessed lunatic he was, sought ways to surpass his limits and began experimenting with the energy forced upon him.
After years of trying to figure out how this curse could benefit him, he finally found a way.
By merging part of his dark soul, about the size of a small sphere, with Qi, he created an energy that repelled and fed off divine energy.
He created a kind of Qi that would cause any god who came close to feel an instinctive fear for their life.
Azrael didn't stop there. Over the years, he perfected it and even trained his army to use this energy in battle.
With just a thousand troops, he conquered kingdoms before his eventual downfall.
As the very creator of this power, the Qi radiating intensely from this Godslayer did not harm him.
'What is a Godslayer doing here?' Evan thought.
Godslayers were incredibly rare and generally only dwelled in places where they could kill a god who had strayed from their duty to help humanity.
Their rarity was due to the fact that, to become a Godslayer, one had to end a god's life—a feat practically impossible without special weapons called (Secril weapons) that could harm celestial beings.
"I think you should get that food to go," Azrael said, still locked in a gaze with the individual across the room.
The person grinned from ear to ear in a sinister way.
"Why? If you're going to fight, I want to join," Evan replied.
Azrael just sighed. "I admire your bravery, but that wouldn't be wise. Judging from his aura, his power level is close to that of a last-stage demigod. Even with my current strength, defeating him would be a challenge."
"Besides, you'd be killed instantly before you even realized it. Go back to the inn; I'll return before sundown."
Reluctantly, and feeling the tension in the air, Evan stood up and ordered a meal to go, using the money Azrael had given her for expenses.
After collecting the food, she looked at Azrael, then at the figure.
'I hope you don't die—who else would give me gifts like this powerful sword?' she thought before leaving the building.
As soon as Evan left, Azrael stood up and casually walked over to the figure's table.
He had to practically push people out of the way as they walked too slowly.
He gently pulled out a chair, took a seat, and softly rested his hands on the table.
"You sure are gutsy for a celestial, heh, I like that," the man smirked. "They're easier to kill that way."
The man looked quite young, probably in his late twenties. He wore a duster coat that seemed a bit baggy but somehow didn't drag on the floor.
The collar of the coat stretched up about twenty centimeters, partially covering the back of his head.
Azrael's gaze shifted to the weapon the figure wielded, locked at both sides of his waist.
This weapon was something from ancient times; it was no longer than a meter.
It was known as a Kit Rae, a kind of short, curved blade with a black hilt adorned with red diamond patterns.
The blade itself had red markings Azrael couldn't quite understand, but he was certain it bore some spell cast for weapon enhancement.
However, that alone wouldn't frighten a celestial; a blade like that was nothing against a god.
But it was the material it was made of—a rare kind of steel not of this world, called Secril steel.
Secril steel was typically extracted from a mountain beside the river of life in the celestial realm, yet somehow, it had ended up on Earth and been forged into a weapon by some Godslayer.
A perfect tool to end a god's life permanently, with no reincarnation cycle.
The only reason Azrael could think of for Secril steel's presence on Earth was when celestial beings were sent here—perhaps a balance had to be sent to handle rogue celestials.
"Let's cut to it, shall we?" Azrael said. "You've sensed my presence ever since I set foot in this godforsaken city, plotting to catch me."
"Why? Let me guess. You got the word from Odin, the god-king, about me, so you decided to get to me first. Am I right?"
The man chuckled. "The rumors about your greatness are quite true. The Dark Godslayer, the god the celestials fear, the one who ruined the God-King's life and even escaped the supreme ones' clutches. Hehehe."
"That's quite impressive. Normally, no god dares to oppose them, or death is certain."
"As much as I love being praised, let's get to the point—before heads start rolling!" Azrael's smile suddenly vanished.
"Oh, oh. Don't ruffle your feathers, lad—or should I say, human skin? Kekeke," the man said. "You're human now, but as a god-killer specially made by you, I can still sense bottled-up energy threatening to burst."
"How cruel. The supreme ones couldn't end your reincarnation, so they trapped your soul in a human body. That's a pain, isn't it?"
"Damn, I haven't properly introduced myself, silly me."
"I am known as Velen, the Godslayer!, I am here to make a deal with the devil"
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