Azrael was subjected to torment again and again, but with each trial, he grew stronger. The Depravity Heart, which resided within Azrael's body, was a heart of curses and diseases.
Lucifer looked at Azrael and saw the black, plague-like heart pulsating within his chest. Without hesitation, Lucifer moved. He pierced Azrael's chest, opening it effortlessly with his bare hands, and ripped the heart out. As soon as the Depravity Heart was torn from his chest, it disintegrated into black ash, scattering into the air. Yet, almost instantly, another heart began to form within Azrael's body, dark and ominous, identical to the one before.
Lucifer paused, his eyes narrowing as he observed the phenomenon. What a unique creation, he thought. Then, a memory resurfaced. Is this the Depravity Heart? The one the gods warned me about? His gaze returned to the newly formed heart, pitch-black and silent, devoid of the rhythmic beating of a normal heart. A heart full of curses, plagued by unimaginable diseases, he recalled. But one question burned in his mind: Why would his body create a heart like this?
Lucifer turned around, but then he felt a sudden surge of black aura spreading around him like an encroaching storm. He spun back toward Azrael, his sharp eyes narrowing as he witnessed something unprecedented.
Azrael's body was regenerating, but this was no ordinary healing. The gaping wound in his chest began to close, not with simple flesh knitting together, but with a new layer of pale, pristine skin being generated, as though stitched by an unseen force. Moments later, a searing heat radiated from within, sealing the skin completely and leaving no trace of injury.
Azrael now stood, his white hair glowing faintly under the black aura, his pale skin so flawless it seemed otherworldly. Yet, his face remained unchanged—a haunting reminder of who he had always been.
"So, this is one of the curses, huh? Death Reconstitution," Lucifer muttered, his voice low and laced with intrigue. He watched as Azrael's body fully mended itself, the black aura swirling around him like a shroud.
"If an ordinary person had to endure this," Lucifer continued, his tone cold, "they would have gone mad from the agony—having new skin stitched onto their body and enduring the searing heat that follows." He stepped closer, his crimson eyes locking onto Azrael's pale, unyielding form.
"But this... this curse suits you, Azrael," Lucifer said with a faint smirk. "Because you, of all beings, is numb to pain."
Azrael's face remained eerily calm as his hand ignited with hellfire, the black and crimson flames crackling with a sinister energy. Lucifer's eyes widened slightly, a glimmer of intrigue flashing across his face. "Oh, so you can absorb anything and turn it into your power," he muttered, his tone tinged with amusement.
The battlefield was the infernal depths of Hell itself, a twisted realm of fire and brimstone. Rivers of molten lava carved through jagged obsidian cliffs, and the air was thick with the stench of sulfur. The ground beneath them crackled and splintered, radiating intense heat, as Lucifer and Azrael stood locked in their eternal struggle.
"Everything I touch will either die or be corrupted," Azrael spoke, his voice reverberating through the desolate wasteland of Hell. Without warning, he vanished in a blur of motion, appearing directly in front of Lucifer with his fist wreathed in hellfire. The flames crackled with malevolent energy, reflecting the corrupted essence of Azrael's existence.
Lucifer's crimson eyes narrowed as he blocked the blow with his forearm, the force of the impact sending shockwaves rippling across the fiery landscape. The nearby lava rivers erupted violently, spewing molten rock into the air. "Do you think you can challenge the king of Hell in his own domain?" Lucifer growled, his voice laced with mockery.
Azrael didn't respond with words but moved again, his attacks relentless. His fists tore through the air, each blow carrying the weight of death itself. Lucifer dodged and parried with unparalleled grace, the force of their strikes causing the ground beneath them to fracture. The flames of Hell roared in approval, as if the realm itself reveled in their violent dance.
Lucifer swung his blade, the weapon glowing with divine yet infernal energy. The strike was aimed at Azrael's chest, a blow meant to cleave him in two. But as the blade descended, Azrael caught it with his bare hand. The black hue spread rapidly along the blade, twisting and corrupting it.
Lucifer's eyes widened in shock. "Impossible! No one corrupts my weapon!" He pulled back, freeing the blade, but it was too late. The corruption had spread like an infection, and the once-glorious weapon crumbled to ash in his hands.
"You're in my domain now," Azrael said coldly, stepping forward as black flames erupted around him. He moved with inhuman speed, appearing behind Lucifer in the blink of an eye. Before Lucifer could react, Azrael's clawed hand raked across his back, leaving deep, smoldering gashes that oozed dark energy.
Lucifer staggered but recovered quickly, a growl escaping his lips. "You think I'm finished?" He raised both hands, summoning a massive infernal vortex. The skies above the battlefield twisted into a maelstrom of fire and shadows, as Hell itself bent to Lucifer's will. The vortex surged toward Azrael, a tidal wave of pure destructive energy.
Azrael stood unfazed, his pale face illuminated by the infernal glow. He raised his own hand, and the black flames around him intensified. With a single motion, he slammed his fist into the heart of the vortex. The collision created a cataclysmic explosion, the shockwave tearing through the landscape of Hell. Rivers of lava were flung into the air, raining molten fire across the battlefield.
Lucifer charged through the chaos, his fists burning with his own hellfire. He collided with Azrael, their blows shaking the very foundation of Hell. Each strike was a clash of raw power—Azrael's cursed darkness against Lucifer's infernal might. Azrael was torn apart, his limbs severed, his body split in half, yet each time, he reformed, his cursed regeneration ensuring his survival.
"You can't kill me, Lucifer," Azrael said, his voice calm despite the carnage. "Not here. Not anywhere."
Lucifer snarled, slashing at Azrael with another conjured blade. But no matter how many times he mutilated him, Azrael's body reconstructed itself, the black aura around him growing stronger with each regeneration. Frustration flashed across Lucifer's face as he roared, "Curse of immortality! Is that all you are?"
Azrael's pale face betrayed no emotion as he lunged forward, his hand ablaze with corrupted hellfire. The flames roared as his fist connected with Lucifer's chest, the impact sending the demon lord flying into the jagged cliffs. The obsidian rocks shattered under Lucifer's weight, but he emerged unscathed, his eyes burning with fury.
Lucifer rose to his full height, his aura erupting in an inferno that engulfed the battlefield. "You're no god, Azrael," he growled, stepping forward. "You're just a cursed wretch clinging to borrowed power!"
Azrael stepped toward him, unflinching, his aura of death darkening the very flames of Hell. "And you're nothing but a king who fears losing his throne."
The two forces collided again, their battle shaking the very core of Hell. The rivers of lava surged like oceans in a storm, the sky cracked with thunderous eruptions, and the screams of the damned echoed endlessly. Their fight became a spectacle of destruction, a clash of titans whose battle would leave scars even in the infernal depths of Hell itself