Chapter 18: Man vs God

"I... won." Albert stands idle as he stands in the centre of the magic circle. A sly grin slithers on his face. He bursts into uncontrollable laughter and says, "There's no way he'll survive this. Like that boy from Professor Azrael's class, this magic circle sends its target to a black dragon's den."

"Is that so?"

Albert freezes. A chill sprints down his spine. This aura... If I turn around now, he'll kill me.

"Tell me more about this black dragon den, Professor Albert."

Albert does not turn around—he cannot. He senses a growing danger inch closer to him—Eyes with murder written in its pupils. The murderous glare pierces his body like a dagger. His breath becomes heavier as the sound of footsteps reaches him. Who is this? I've heard this voice before but never have I felt a presence this terrifying.

"Turn around," commands the voice.

Albert unwillingly turns around. He breaks out into a cold sweat when Azrael, the boy he had insulted walks towards him with lifeless eyes. This is... Professor Azrael?

"Kneel."

Albert falls to his knees. What... happened? Is this speech magic? No, I heard he could manipulate nether energy. Is this similar to speech magic? Shit! I can't control my body.

"I can see you're in a panic. Don't worry yourself, Professor Albert. We are both professors at this illustrious institute. I assume we are both capable of holding a mature conversation, correct?" He struggles to nod his head but achieves this gesture. "Good," says Azrael, stopping before Albert. He bends down and stares Albert in the eyes, "Now, you said one of my students is in a black dragon's den, correct?"

I need to break free of this spell. Albert nods his head to buy himself time.

"I see. And where exactly is this den?" Albert does not say anything. "Speak."

"The den... is..." He stops himself from unintentionally speaking for a second but Azrael increases the intensity of his spell and Albert says, "The... Zotsrel Aeoub... Mountain..."

"Zostrel Aeoub? Where is that? How do I get there?"

"Zoestrel Aeoub... is..."

"Is where?"

"Is... is..."

Azrael notices Albert's small finger movements in the corner of his eye. He jumps back before Albert can stab him with the dagger. Did he break free from my nether art? I guess the praises he's lauded with are not just all talk.

Albert gets on his feet. He stares at Azrael cautiously. "That was quite an amazing spell you used there."

"You have yet to see what I can truly do," says Azrael breaking into a cold sweat.

"Is that so?" Albert stops himself from bursting into a maniacal laughter. As if I'll believe that, he thinks. You're not at one hundred per cent, are you, Professor Azrael?

As Albert guessed, Azrael lost pools of nether energy when he inadvertently emitted it in his deep slumber. The cold sweat is not only Azrael bluffing but his body nearing its limit. Albert stalks Azrael and smiles, "You're breathing quite heavily, Professor Azrael. Are you sure you should be fighting me?"

Azrael smiles, "Even without nether energy, you are no challenge for me, Professor Albert."

Albert's smile drops into a frown. "Is that so? Well, no matter. You will soon understand, that I am not someone you should look down on." He charges forward like an irate bull. He thrusts the dagger in quick jabs, displaying elegance and mastery lost to him in his fight against Ubel. Azrael dodges the jabs, seamlessly swaying his body from left to right like water. Like a snake and mongoose, Albert and Azrael tussle back and forth without using mana and nether.

"You're quick on your feet for someone so slender." He cracks a laugh, "Or maybe it's because you're slender that you can seamlessly move your body like you can."

"I can say the same about you. You use that dagger as though it's an extension of your own body. I've only seen the greatest weapon masters expertly wield their weapons like you."

"Your compliment means nothing to me... but I'll accept it."

They continue their exchange for a few more seconds before Azrael chants, "Hades, the river of the underworld—"

"Resorting to nether arts, are we?" interjects Albert increasing the speed of his attacks.

Azrael struggles to keep up with his attack speed. "Red to sight, warm to touch," he continues, "Trap this infected soul in your perennial stream. Nether Arts: Seal of Hades." Azrael steps back and the ground ripples. Red water bursts forth and surrounds Albert in a sphere, as it did to Arthur.

"An imprisonment spell?"

"With this, you can't—"

Albert slices through the spell with the dagger. The sphere pops like a bubble. "Did you think such a lousy spell could contain me?"

"I was hoping," he says, wiping the sweat from his face. I'm running out of nether energy. If I don't end this soon, I'll lose.

"I see, you're starting to get desperate, Professor Azrael. Well, of course you would. You are fighting against a genius. I will; however, laud you with praise. You charged me with less than half your power and held out for ten minutes. Although I haven't used my magic, you should feel proud of yourself. But I think we've stalled long enough." He points the dagger at Azrael and then horizontally cuts the air before him. "Rift, open." The air tears open like fabric and a small rift appears. "My magic is space magic but I'm sure you knew that already. What you might not know, is that I specialise in teleportation." He reaches out to the rift and says, "I've spent years mastering this skill."

A chill runs down Azrael's spine. I can't let him place his hand in that rift, is the instinctual feeling coursing through him. "River of the underworld," he chants rapidly, "Red to sight. Warm to touch. Burst forth and inflict eternal suffering on mine enemy. Nether Art: Summoning - Hades."

As before, the ground below Azrael's feet ripples and red water bursts forth. The stream of water charges at Albert like a tsunami. Albert draws his hand away and jumps back but the water winds, following his retreat. It soon outpaces and drowns him. "AARRGGHH!" he exclaims in agony as the water burns his skin.

"Encage," whispers Azrael. The water surrounds him like the imprisonment spell before. "Impale." The water gurgles and shoots spikes into Albert's body.

"ENOUGH!" yells Albert, trembling with pain. "Rift, open!" Rifts open within the spherical cage and around Azrael. The water spikes disappear and reappear through the rifts, stabbing Azrael.

"Argh!" Azrael cancels the spell before he sustains any more damage.

"You..." says Albert, struggling to get onto his feet. When he does he wobbles like a drunkard and falls again. "How dare... you?" he asks with heavy breaths.

It looks like... he's nearly out of mana as well. Is it because of the spell he used on Ubel?

"I've had enough of this! Rift—"

"I've seen enough," says a voice. As soon as the voice disappears, Albert spews blood.

"W-what...?" He looks down at his blood-stained hands and his body starts trembling. He looks up at the sky and yells, "No... I didn't lose yet! Please! Don't do this! No... Lord—" His body suddenly vanishes and nothing, not even his mana, remains.

"Azrael," says Arthur running towards him. "Are you okay?"

What... was that? That voice... I recognise it. Was that...? No, it couldn't be. Why would he interfere? Is he the one working with Azazel?

"Azrael?"

Azrael looks at Arthur, shocked. He relaxes his expression and smiles, "Yes, I'm fine."

Arthur, relieved, says, "Good. I was concerned. When we came to you suddenly told me not to interfere with your fight against Professor Albert." He looks at where Albert sat before he disappeared, "What was that?"

"Orion."

"Orion? Who's that?"

"The Primordial God of Space, Orion—my elder brother."

"Does that mean...?"

"I don't know. But if he is helping Azazel, things may not go as smoothly as I wanted it to."

"Is he that powerful?"

"More than that. He's everywhere. He is the embodiment of space—with no physical form. Or at least not one he often uses. But, I don't think he's helping Azazel."

"What do you mean?"

This is just an instinctual guess but I don't think Orion is working with Azazel. Albert didn't know I was a god and if he was Orion's underling, Orion would have mentioned this to him. And... "It's not in Orion's style to go against a promise."

"A promise?"

Azrael remains silent for a while, then says, smiling, "No, it's nothing. Just something childish."

'Orion, I can't kill the humans.'

'Is that so? Why not?'

'There is too much good I would be wiping out. Humans are inventive creatures. If we leave them be, eventually they will become peaceful creatures.'

'Do you truly think that's possible?'

'It may take a long time for them to get to this point but I believe in them.'

'Is that so?'

'Hey! I told you to stop patting my head. I'm not a child anymore.'

'I guess you're right. Well, Azrael, if it's for my little brother, I will go along with what you say and hold out hope for the humans' peaceful future.'

'Thank you, Orion.'

'No need to thank me. Until you have no more hope for the humans, I will not harbour any hatred towards the human race. Consider this a promise.'

'You're the best!'

'Yeah, I know.'

Azrael brims with joy thinking back on the promise made with his brother that day. "Yeah, I don't think Orion would work with Azazel."

"But if it's not him, why would he interfere with your fight?"

"I... don't know. But I'm sure he had his reasons."

—The Beginning, Orion's Beige Palace

"Lord... Orion... Please!"

Albert digs his head into the crystal floor, pleading to an elderly man seated on his throne. The man, dressed in angelic white regalia, stares down indifferently at Albert with his rose quartz eyes. "Albert Stein, you betrayed me."

"No... I—"

"Silence," he commands. Albert's mouth vanishes from his face, making him panicked. "I now know how Azrael felt that day with that corrupt human king. You do not deserve my blessing." Albert shakes his head viciously and tears pool in his eyes. "Disappear from my sight." Orion waves his hand and Albert vanishes. Where to? Anywhere and everywhere. Like many others who have disappointed Orion, he is now a part of space. Orion sighs, "It's been empty without you here, Azrael."

"Empty? Have I not been enough company, dearest elder brother?"

Orion's lost eyes fall to his palace door opening. A woman with long, luscious blonde, almost white, hair, earthy skin and pink eyes enters. Her hair still falls to the ground despite being tied in a half ponytail. With her lips only slightly cracking on the ends and her eyelids partially closed, she wears a gentle, welcoming smile. "I thought I told you not to appear before me, Gaia."

"Is that how you speak to your dearest sister?"

"It's because of you that Azrael is in this predicament."

"Whatever do you mean?"

"Don't play coy with me. I see everything."

"If you see everything, you ought to know I am not the one who sent Azrael to the Mortal Realm. Nor was I the one who commanded Azazel. Why would I? I have no qualms with my twin brother or those wretched creatures I bore."

"You're right. You may not be the one who broke the agreement but you are just as guilty."

"Do you forget the reason we made that agreement, Orion?" Orion remains silent. "She is in the Mortal Realm. And if the seal breaks, we, the Primordial Gods will not be able to stand up against her."

"And you want Azrael to stop her resurrection?"

"Yes."

"ARE YOU INSANE!?" yells Orion, slamming his fist against the throne's armrest. "When Azrael finds out she is within grasp, do you think he will try to stop her?"

"I can only pray he does and this does not turn out like it did with Lucifer."

Orion glares at Gaia cautiously. "I hope you know Azrael may never forgive you."

"I'm prepared to accept that."

Orion sighs, "What have I done to be cursed with such troublesome siblings?"

"Hey, it's not that bad being the oldest," she says smiling.

"Azrael, I pray you can overcome this tribulation. Please, make the right choice this time around. If not, you will be the one breaking our promise."