Celestial Bloodline Chapter 948: Make me stronger I

Azazeal spared not a single look toward them. To him, they served merely as disposable instruments, tossed aside the instant their utility ran dry. He recalled the shadow generals solely by their assigned digits, much less the Rulers he harbored such deep contempt for.

No necessity existed even to label them with numbers—they scarcely merited such a thing.

Coldly, he demanded.

"Understood?"

Valance inclined his head, and the rest followed suit, their gazes utterly vacant, devoid of any spark.

Not one entertained thoughts of defiance, let alone retaliation. Such was the might of unchallenged dominance. Shivering, they all hurried from the open space, dissolving into the fog to exit the domain and execute his command to annihilate their own world.

Once they had departed, Azazeal's voice resonated once more, profound, hushed, and devoid of pity.

"In exchange for your compliance, I shall bestow upon you a demise that's somewhat less agonizing—provided... that you linger in my memory."

A chill, hollow chuckle escaped him—gentle, joyless, and profoundly vicious.

His jet-black eyes tightened as he gradually shifted his attention leftward, at last pulling his stare from the portal where Nathaniel had vanished.

One after another, his leftover forms stirred to life. Indeed—each and every one.

All proved authentic. No illusions persisted among them, not since he had split his essence into seven equal shards.

At this point, they had all attained the End.

Not merely one—all fragments alike.

Every piece had withstood identical agony, identical suffering. They had witnessed their bodies ripped asunder, their spirits devoured, only for the very obscurity responsible to shape unbreakable new vessels encasing the voids left in their souls.

Having survived such ordeals, they now perched at the zenith of might. This was the strength he had craved relentlessly for ages, all to exact vengeance on all who had forged him into this state.

Yet why...

"Why does emptiness consume me?"

Even the fierce drive to advance in power—the relentless compulsion that had sustained him—had evaporated. What remained? Zilch.

Azazeal brushed against yet another delicate snowflake, murmuring absently to himself in a stupor. He parted his lips, only to seal them once more, before addressing his other incarnations.

"If... even he has faltered, then we should conclude it all."

"We should fade away. No purpose lingers in persisting. It would only exhaust us."

"In the end, nobody awaits us."

"Nobody at all."

For an instant, a trace of feeling flashed across his aloof stare. As his form reconstituted, every buried recollection—even those long erased—flooded back like vivid recollections, ripping wide old wounds that had never mended.

A grin tugged at his mouth as he fixed on the void, as if beholding a presence.

"This is the beast I've transformed into. If only you could witness me like this, you'd likely lament concealing me to shield me back then."

"That's the version of you etched in my mind."

"But I harbor no regrets."

"For that lack, I do regret."

He shut his eyes, sensing one of his forms engaging in something intriguing.

At the same moment, in a remote section of the Layer of Ancients, distant from the open area, a wounded hand clutched the ankle of the lofty cloaked silhouette facing him.

Cassian pleaded.

"Make me stronger."

He yelled.

"I know you possess the ability! I sense it!"

"I'll surrender all I have to you!"

"Thus, I implore you..."

"Make me stronger."

His frame lay ravaged, utterly drained of vitality. Still, the moment Azazeal stepped forth from the shadows, recognition struck him—the individual capable of confronting numerous Rulers directly, the one who had ascended by merging with the abyss. By yielding his soul, he was certain to obtain something—whatever might aid him, anything to lessen the fractures within.

In contrast to Valance and the other Rulers, whose sanity had crumbled under the Celestial aura cloaking Azazeal, Cassian burned with such urgency that no other force could claim him.

The sole impulse preserving his awareness, amid wounds that pierced his very core, was the compulsion to act—do whatever necessary—to overpower Nathaniel. Sufficient to strike once. A lone blow. Even if victory eluded him ultimately, that would suffice—just one time. Without it, he would shatter entirely.

However, the possessor of those ebony eyes showed no mercy, peering down at him with vacant shadows in his gaze. Azazeal blinked. His voice carried a feigned compassion, though his words sliced deep.

"What reason compels me to?"

He had barely emerged from the gloom when Cassian daringly seized his limb, ignoring the enveloping void. This figure appeared indifferent to his digits dissolving upon touch. Without a second thought, Azazeal flung him off, amusement creasing the edges of his eyes.

"Such a shame. He relocated you to this distant corner of the Layer of Ancients to preserve you, even expending his... core—and still, you kneel before the abyss itself."

A gleam of mirth danced in his luminous ebony eyes, unnoticed by Cassian as madness overtook him from the harsh denial.

"No, no—mercy. I'll undertake anything! Just grant me a fragment more of strength. Only a touch. I beg you... I beg."

Azazeal's tone grew more somber.

"Anything at all?"

Desperately, Cassian nodded. In his view, Azazeal resembled a flawlessly sculpted statue—ethereally captivating, yet exuding the most horrifying shadows.

"Anything whatsoever!"

"So be it. I'll bestow power upon you. But first, extract the souls of every acquaintance in this domain and deliver them to me. In turn, I'll amplify your might further."

"Do we have a deal?"

Cassian stiffened. Azazeal's declaration washed over him like an unyielding wave. Extract the souls of all he knew here?

That required slaying Zami, Ares, Silver, all those he'd deemed allies, his comrades, the rare few who had rekindled his ability to smile. For power, he'd need to turn against his nearest, those... who placed absolute faith in him.

Cassian's gaze reddened further as a choked snicker escaped. Tears blended with blood, streaming down his face.

He bowed his head and murmured in a quivering tone, soft and tormented.

"Why... why must this prove so arduous..."

"I merely desire to eliminate the one responsible for my ruin... who stripped away all I held."