He flicked his finger a second later. The miraculous cigar appeared in his hand before he lit it up with the cooling blue flames of his flint.
Almost lazily, he took a puff, the smoke seeping into his body and quietly stitching shut wounds he hadn’t even realized he’d sustained.
"I did say I don’t want you to interfere," he muttered, eyes locking on Cinder.
"But then again... when it’s a hassle to beat one, fighting many at once is a bit unfair, don’t you think?"
Cinder, still airborne, tilted its head to the side. A second later, the beast descended.
Azrael grabbed the Remembrance’s leg with one hand and held his deadly scythe in the other.
’These are just sharks at the end of the day,’ he reasoned. ’To beat them, I just need to get them out of the blood.’
He inhaled deeply, drawing more healing smoke from the cigar.
In a matter of seconds, he and Cinder soared into the air—only for massive shark-like monsters to lunge toward them from below, their gaping maws rising from the blood.
’Five.’ Azrael counted them. Fighting so many foes wasn’t something that he was meant to do.
After all, these sharks were equal to the Unworthy Knights, and Seraphina—the woman that was supposed to be the strongest Marked—had struggled against two.
And here he was, facing five.
Yet instead of fear or caution, something else surged through him.
It was an emotion that he rarely felt, but rising above the blood lake meant his attire had stopped consuming the precious substance below—and that was starting to gnaw at him.
His eyes fixed on the cause, he grimaced.
Tensing his muscles, he swung forward and released Cinder’s leg.
’Doesn’t look like they can fly or attack from range.’
He neared the first shark just as it lunged to bite. He bent his body at an awkward angle. Gripping the fin of the shark with one hand, he used the other to drive his scythe into the creature’s brain.
Thanks to his precise strike, he pierced the eye, reaching the brain without any kind of resistance, killing the monster on the spot.
The words of the system echoed in his head, yet he was too focused to pay them any mind.
Still airborne, he turned to the other sharks that had leapt after him.
With unyielding determination, he jumped on his second foe. This one was trickier to reach, so he used his weapon like leverage. He stabbed into its side and pushed forward, finding himself below the being’s stomach.
To hold on, he wrapped his legs around its torso. Instantly, he swung Gravebloom and carved a deep, wide wound across its exposed abdomen.
Azrael had great knowledge about monster anatomy; just by a sheer glance, he had deduced that while its top part was protected by its skin, its stomach was left exposed.
’If these things had any intelligence, they wouldn’t be leaping into the air, exposing their weak spots. Thank goodness they’re just dumb beasts’
When he finished mutilating the second foe, he turned toward the rest.
He wasn’t going to let a single one escape.
Item Blood Progression: [16,000/1,000,000 (cubic meters)]
Corruption Progression: [12/100]
Seated atop a pile of corpses, Azrael let the miraculous cigar do its job while he examined his stats.
"It’s good that my Corruption is of the Twisted Rank. Killing Twisted monsters nets me only 1 Corruption Progression, while the weakest Warped will not push me to madness at all."
Massaging his shoulder, he gazed toward the horizon. The day was nearly over. Since the crimson armor wasn’t absorbing blood at an efficient rate, he’d need to spend much more time in the blood lake.
’Better head further south.’
The farther he went from the edge of the canyon, the fewer sharks he would encounter. Which made sense—after all, they would be mainly clustered at the areas where the knights would throw them bodies to feast upon.
Thanks to the Blessed Teapot, thirst wasn’t an issue. And since he had devoured as much food as he could before leaving the hollow tree, he would be able to last quite some time without food.
If there was one thing the System did right for the Chosen, it was drastically boosting their adaptability.
’Still, even if I can stay here for a long time, it’s not a good idea. Sooner or later something beyond me will appear, and if that doesn’t happen, my Corruption will progress too much.’
The Heir of Death loved to experiment, always seeking more knowledge—for knowledge was power. But one thing he was reluctant to test was ranking up his Corruption before his Purity. He was as certain as one could be that doing so would turn him into a monster. And that was a fate he would rather avoid, if possible.
"Maybe Seraphina can help..." he muttered before even realizing he’d said it aloud. He didn’t know much—if anything—about her, but one thing was certain: she could somehow rid him of the accumulated Corruption, and that was a valuable trait.
A loud, piercing screech reached his ears, breaking him out of his own thoughts.
Cinder screeched again, eyes fixed on the distance.
Following the gaze of his beast, Azrael squinted his eyes.
Tiny figures were flying toward him with wings similar to bees. Their bodies were bloodily red, mimicking the lake itself, with a sharp needle at the end of their abdomen and faces that bore an uncanny resemblance to humans.
"There’s a lot of them," Azrael muttered, activating [Inspect].
Danger Level: [Feral]
Corruption Rank: [Warped]
’Feral and Warped?’ A momentary surprise flickered over Azrael’s face. He hadn’t expected to meet the weakest monsters possible in the area, but fate seemed eager to prove him wrong.
’At least getting rid of them shouldn’t raise my Corruption.’
He took another puff from the miraculous cigar.
With a flick of his finger, Gravebloom was once more in his firm grip.
’Ranking up the armor will be a pain,’ he thought bitterly.
A heartbeat later, he had dashed towards the incoming swarm of insects.
’But it’s going to be worth it.’