The heavenly forest was bathed in a surreal, ethereal glow as Daimon and Raizel stood face to face, their crimson eyes locked in an unyielding stare. This ancient grove, shrouded in mist and guarded by age-old trees, bore witness to a confrontation that would echo through the annals of World Tower's history.
Daimon, his crimson hair flowing like a dark river of blood, exuded an aura of unquenchable hunger. His fangs, sharp as daggers, gleamed menacingly in the otherworldly light.
Across from him, Raizel, his werewolf form imposing and awe-inspiring, bellowed a challenge that seemed to shake the very heavens. His fur bristled with electric anticipation, and his thunderous growl reverberated through the forest. He stood tall, the embodiment of raw power and primal fury.