Azrael stood tall, his chest heaving as the Abyssal Wardens circled him, their monstrous figures casting ominous shadows on the ruined wasteland. The acrid air of the Abyss choked the very life out of everything it touched, but Azrael felt no fear. He wasn't the same man who had entered the Abyssal Gate. Every fight, every wound, every death he'd experienced had shaped him into something stronger—something more than human.
But even so, facing four Abyssal Wardens, each radiating pure, unrestrained malevolent energy, was not a challenge to take lightly. These beings were embodiments of the past Tyrants, creatures forged by the very essence of the Abyss itself.
"All right," Azrael muttered, cracking his neck. "Time to get serious."
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The Abyssal Surge
The first Warden charged with terrifying speed, its massive sword sweeping down in an arc that could cleave mountains in half. Azrael twisted his body, narrowly avoiding the strike, his blade flashing in the air as he retaliated. Necrilith met the Warden's weapon with a thunderous clang, sparks flying.
"Not bad," Azrael grinned, pushing against the Warden's strength with his own. "But not enough."
With a twist of his wrist, Azrael unleashed a rapid barrage of strikes, each one imbued with a pulse of Abyssal energy. The ground cracked beneath the impact, and with each swing, he could feel his muscles burning, the sheer power of the attacks reverberating through the atmosphere.
But the Warden blocked every blow with its massive forearms, each strike sending reverberations of dark energy back toward Azrael. The other three Wardens roared in unison, their eyes glowing with malevolent intent, closing in to surround him.
Azrael didn't flinch. He'd seen this before—this was just another test, another battle. This time, though, he wasn't fighting just for survival. This time, he was fighting to prove that he was worthy of the Abyssal Tyrant's power.
"Let's see how you like this!" Azrael shouted, activating his Frozen Eclipse.
Time slowed. The world around him became a series of slow-motion flashes—every movement, every breath, every action stretched into eternity. The Abyssal Wardens moved as if they were trapped in amber, their attacks sluggish and predictable.
Azrael danced through the frozen battlefield, his sword a blur of shadow and light. Each strike cut into the Wardens' armor, sending cracks spider-webbing across their darkened forms. The ground below them shattered as the Abyssal energy coursed through his blade, fueling every strike with lethal force.
The first Warden fell to its knees, howling in agony as its armor crumbled away. But the others were quick to retaliate. Time snapped back to normal, and Azrael barely managed to evade a crushing blow from the second Warden.
"You really think you can win?" Azrael taunted, his voice dripping with confidence.
---
The Abyssal Judgment
The second Warden roared in response, its mouth opening to reveal rows of razor-sharp teeth. It raised its sword high, summoning a massive vortex of dark energy above it. Azrael recognized the attack—a Abyssal Judgment—a spell capable of annihilating anything within its radius. Dozens of black swords rained down from the sky like falling meteors, each one imbued with the power of the Abyss itself.
Azrael grinned. "I've fought worse."
He swung Necrilith with a roar, his sword glowing with the power of Abyssal Severance. A wave of black energy erupted from his blade, cutting through the incoming swords as if they were nothing more than paper. The remaining swords slammed into the ground around him, sending shockwaves of Abyssal energy into the earth, but Azrael was already on the move.
With a burst of speed, he dodged the second Warden's retaliatory strike and launched himself into the air. The third Warden swung its massive sword at him, but Azrael was faster—he twisted mid-air and landed behind the creature, slashing at its exposed back. Black cracks spread across the Warden's dark armor, and the creature howled in pain.
"You're tougher than I thought," Azrael muttered, his body already moving in a blur of fluid, calculated attacks.
---
A Dance of Destruction
The third Warden roared in fury and, with a single sweeping motion, slammed the ground beneath them. A shockwave of energy exploded outward, knocking Azrael back. He gritted his teeth, barely managing to keep his footing as the impact sent debris flying in all directions.
The fourth Warden, sensing an opening, rushed at him with lightning speed, its claws extending like jagged blades. Azrael's eyes widened, and in a split-second decision, he activated Soul Requiem.
The energy of fallen enemies flowed into him, and with it came an immediate rush of vitality. His wounds healed instantly, and his strength surged to new heights. He twisted in mid-air, sidestepping the Warden's attack, before slashing with Necrilith at the creature's face.
The Warden screamed, stumbling backward, but Azrael wasn't done. He pressed the advantage, diving into the chaos, his sword cutting through the air like a whirlwind. Each strike was like a hammer, shattering the Warden's defenses.
The three Wardens, battered and bloody, struggled to stand. Their massive forms were cracked, their armor shattered, and their once menacing aura dimmed. But Azrael didn't slow down. With a roar, he summoned all the power of the Abyss, flooding his body with its energy.
"Abyssal Surge!"
Azrael's body became a beacon of dark power as he unleashed a massive wave of destructive energy. The explosion tore through the wasteland, obliterating the remaining Wardens and sending shockwaves across the Abyssal Gate. The creatures howled in agony, their bodies disintegrating into ash as they were consumed by the raw force of Azrael's attack.
---
The Final Trial
Silence fell over the battlefield as the last remnants of the Abyssal Wardens crumbled to dust. Azrael stood amidst the ruin, panting heavily but triumphant. His body burned with energy, his wounds healing faster than he could register, but his heart pounded with exhilaration.
The Abyssal Gate flickered, the dark sky above him beginning to dissipate. The air was thick with the stench of death, but Azrael didn't care. He had conquered the Trial.
But just as he began to relax, a low rumble shook the ground beneath him. The sky cracked open, and from the rift, a towering figure descended—far larger and more terrifying than anything he had faced before.
A massive, skeletal form, wrapped in chains of abyssal energy. Its eyes were voids of darkness, and its aura radiated pure, ancient power.
The Abyssal Tyrant.
Azrael's pulse quickened. This was it—the true final test.
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To Be Continued...