God of Death

It felt like the entire world stopped.

The ground. The entire facility. Everything ceased moving.

Time stopped.

Everything outside the underground colosseum froze.

And everyone held their breath.

Azriel—the original Azriel—opened his eyes.

But in place of those eyes, where his eyes should have been, there was only darkness. No eyeballs—just pitch-black voids.

He... no, it.

It stood up.

Miraculously, the entire gown it wore returned to its original state, spotless, without a single speck of dust.

Its hair floated in the air, unaffected by gravity, revealing its face to everyone—the face of Azriel Crimson.

But it was no longer Azriel Crimson in that body.

No.

That madman... the moment he had stopped caring about survival, when he only cared about winning, he had stopped caring about his own life, knowing it was futile.

He gladly gave it all away.