[This chapter might be gruesome]
The warrior, his body mangled and bloodied, stumbled forward, his grotesque face barely recognizable beneath the hideous scars and the single eye that remained. Despite his disfigured form, he led Azrael deeper into the realm, guiding him toward the grand temple of the Goddess of Seduction. The temple itself was an architectural marvel, a structure that seemed to warp and shift with the flicker of the light, its walls glistening with opulence and allure.
As Azrael stepped inside, the atmosphere shifted drastically. The air became heavy with an enchanting fragrance, and the scenery around him transformed into something more beautiful than anything he had ever seen. The colors were vibrant, the flowers appeared to bloom with ethereal grace, and the sounds of distant birdsong filled the air. It was an illusion, crafted by the goddess herself, to beguile and charm any who entered. In this illusion, Azrael's appearance seemed to change as well. His face, once a grotesque sight of pallor and emptiness, now appeared ordinary, even beautiful, in comparison to his previous form.
He walked through the illusion, the world around him shimmering with false perfection, until he saw her—a stunning figure standing before him. She was everything the illusion promised: radiant, captivating, and full of desire.
"Oh, my love," she whispered, her voice a melody that seemed to wrap around him like silk. "Can't we live together for all of life, just you and I?"
Azrael's heart, if it still had one, seemed to stir at her words. A flicker of something akin to love, something almost human, flashed in his empty sockets as he stared at her. His steps were slow, drawn toward her as if something deep within him sought to connect, to reach for what she offered.
She smiled seductively, stepping closer, her voice hushed but full of longing. "Let's fulfill our desires, Azrael. I know you want me."
But the moment she came near, something in Azrael snapped. Without warning, he reached out with an unearthly speed, his hand closing around her neck. His grip tightened like an iron vice, and with a brutal motion, he hurled her across the room. She flew through the air, crashing into her throne with a resounding impact that shattered the illusion's beauty. The shimmering world around them faltered, cracking like glass, as Azrael stood there, his expression unreadable.
The goddess coughed and gasped, struggling to regain her composure, her eyes wide in disbelief. Azrael's gaze was cold, his emotions locked away beneath layers of apathy. "You are nothing more than another illusion," he muttered, his voice hollow. "I am beyond your games."
The Goddess of Seduction's eyes widened in shock as she struggled to comprehend the turn of events. Her enchantments, her illusions, and her seductive powers—all of it had failed against Azrael. "How... how can you break my seduction spell?" she demanded, her voice laced with disbelief and fury. "Even demons are no exception! No mortal or god has ever resisted me. Why would you—"
Azrael stood unmoving, his gaze unwavering. His voice was cold, as if cutting through her confusion. "Why would I fall for such useless desires? Your power is nothing but a fleeting illusion. It holds no weight over me."
The goddess recoiled, her confidence faltering. Before she could react further, Azrael's presence became oppressive, and with a mere gesture, black chains erupted from the ground, binding her in place. The chains coiled around her body, tightening with unnatural force. Her attempts to break free were futile as the chains locked her in an iron grip, draining her strength with every passing second.
Her once-glorious power seemed to wane, her body trembling as the chains consumed the very essence of her energy. She felt her divine strength being siphoned away, her connection to the realm growing more distant. "What have you done to me?" she gasped, her voice filled with panic. "I am the Goddess of Seduction! You cannot do this—"
Azrael stepped closer, his expression unreadable, as he gazed down at her. "I have a perfect plan for you," he said, his voice echoing with cold intent. "And you will serve it, whether you wish to or not."
The goddess's struggle grew weaker as the chains continued to drain her energy. She could feel her power slipping from her grasp, her once-unbreakable resolve crumbling under the weight of Azrael's control.
Azrael's senses sharpened, and his eyes narrowed as he detected the presence of another being in the room. It wasn't the warrior, nor the goddess—but someone else. Silent as a shadow, Azrael moved swiftly behind the celestial throne, his steps unnoticed. There, concealed behind the intricate divine gate that had been crafted to block any senses, he removed the barrier with ease.
Out stepped a young girl, no older than seven. Her silver hair shimmered faintly in the dim light, and her wide eyes, full of innocence and terror, locked onto Azrael.
The girl froze, unable to do anything but tremble at the sight of the wretched being before her. She couldn't comprehend the full extent of Azrael's nature, but the raw, palpable misery radiating from him was enough to paralyze her. How could she—only a child—respond to such an unholy figure? He was no mere demon. Azrael's appearance defied description, far worse than any nightmare she could have conjured. A demon, even in its most monstrous form, could at least possess a face, a semblance of humanity. But Azrael? He was a twisted mockery of all things living.
Her small body was quickly bound by the same black chains that had ensnared the goddess. She struggled weakly, but there was no escape. Her limbs were bound, and the pain she felt was only a fraction of the horror she would soon face.
Azrael turned his gaze to the Goddess of Seduction, his voice cold and venomous. "Oh, goddess," he spoke with chilling calm, his eyes never leaving the girl. "Since you like to be defiled, how about you witness what I will do to your child?"
The goddess's eyes widened in horror, her face twisted in a desperate mixture of fear and fury as she realized the depth of Azrael's intentions. Her form, once regal and commanding, now trembled under the weight of his words. She had always been in control, always seduced and controlled the desires of others—but now, she faced something even she could not manipulate.
Azrael stepped forward, his presence oppressive and dark, his emotions unreadable. "Let's see if you still find beauty in your illusions once this is done."
The Goddess of Seduction's fury erupted in a burst of raw emotion, her voice cracking with anger and desperation as she screamed, "AZRAEL, DON'T YOU DARE TO PUT A FINGER ON HER!" Her words reverberated through the room, the chains binding her constricting tighter as her power drained away. But she could do nothing—she was powerless, a mere shadow of the might she once commanded. The truth was clear: She was the weakest of the gods, and her desperation was palpable as she realized there was no escaping Azrael's grip.
Azrael, however, remained calm, his expression as unreadable as ever. "Don't worry," he said, his voice cold and detached, "I won't lay a finger on her... not at this moment."
A black spear materialized in his hand, its form as dark as the void itself. The goddess's gaze flickered toward it with a mix of horror and confusion. "Azrael, what are you trying to do?" she demanded, her voice trembling with fear.
Azrael turned to face her, his empty sockets locking with her terrified gaze. "What do you think?" he asked, his voice like ice, devoid of any emotion.
The Goddess of Seduction's eyes widened in realization, her face paling. She stammered, "Azrael, it was a mistake, please... I-I don't do anything like that. I only make illusions, nothing more! You... you don't have to do this!"
Azrael's gaze didn't waver as he raised the black spear, his voice as cold as the weapon in his grasp. "It seems you still don't understand," he said, his tone devoid of mercy. "This spear isn't meant for you. It's meant for your daughter."
The goddess's blood ran cold as her worst fear materialized before her. Her mind raced, but she was too weak to stop him, too bound by the chains that drained her power. All she could do was watch helplessly as Azrael stepped closer, the spear now poised for the child, the symbol of her once-glorious reign.
Azrael's voice was low and menacing as he commanded his spear to pierce the young girl's pelvis. The air seemed to vibrate with malevolent energy as the spear obeyed, tearing through flesh and bone with a sickening crunch.
The girl's scream was ear-shattering, a sound that seemed to shatter the very air itself. Her small body convulsed violently, her limbs thrashing about like a puppet on a string. Blood oozed from the wound, a dark, viscous liquid that seemed to flow endlessly. It poured down her thighs, forming a gruesome pool on the ground beneath her.
The stench of blood and death filled the air, a noxious odor that seemed to cling to everything it touched. The goddess watched in horror, her face pale and drawn, her eyes wide with terror. She tried to speak, to beg for mercy, but her voice was frozen in her throat.
The girl's screams grew weaker, her body trembling with each passing moment. Her eyes, once bright and full of life, grew dull and glassy, her pupils constricting as her life force ebbed away. The blood continued to flow, a steady, relentless stream that seemed to mock the goddess's helpless despair.
Azrael's expression remained impassive, his eyes gleaming with an otherworldly intensity as he watched the life drain from the young girl's body. His power, a dark and malevolent force, seemed to pulsate with an energy all its own, feeding off the girl's suffering and terror.
[Azrael is good guy😇]