Pov Aria
The air was a gelatinous horror.
Every breath burned my lungs, thick with ash and sulfur. The corrupt energy emanating from the two demons pressed down on my shoulders like a slab of lead, compressing my chest until every heartbeat felt like a hammer blow against my ribs. I kept my divine energy flowing constantly, injecting it into my veins like morphine just to stay standing. But it was like trying to put out a forest fire with a bucket of water.
Ignis—no, Laplace—and that monster called Azazel clashed twenty meters away, their figures distorted by the heat radiating from them. Every clash of their claws against infernal flames unleashed shockwaves that made the ground tremble. I tried not to think about how Ignis's body moved—too agile, too fluid, as if every bone had been dislocated and reshaped to accommodate the demon inside him.
"When I come back for him, I'll show him what it truly means to burn."
