The enemy of the Gods...

'I am nothing compared to this monster. All my life, I have trained my body to its limits just to surpass everyone in the village.'

'My goal was to make our village the most feared, but that turned out pointless as it was wiped out like it never existed.'

'The celestial being that blessed us with abilities comparable to a white wolf DNA abandoned us. Now, I am the last of our race. I can't even defeat a fallen god. Am I that useless?'

'My muscles are coursing with pain, my ribs and a few of my bones are probably broken; I might even have internal bleeding. Damn!'

'Just from a single strike, packed with this much force...'

Evan was severely injured, but somehow her bones and internal injuries began to heal at an abnormal rate.

Upon closer inspection, a purple mist seemed to slowly drift out of her body and evaporate into the atmosphere.

It was like steam rising from a boiling pot, but without the heat.

"I hope I didn't break you, mortal… I mean—Evan," Azrael asked. Not that he cared, but breaking a new toy to play with wouldn't be fun, would it?

"Hm, that's the first time you've called me by my name," Evan said as she stood up.

Azrael raised a brow. 'What exactly is this Moonfang energy? It even has impressive healing speed. I need to find the celestial who made it and kill him.'

'Or else, if more like her are created to oppose me, it could be a problem.'

Azrael knew the celestials well. Since he was the main threat, they would stop at nothing to end him once again.

He was quite sure that a possible army was being formed for war against him.

'The celestials are so predictable. Sometimes I wonder if I am the only threat, because there are others who threaten the celestial realm. I'm just targeted because they hate me. Hehehe.'

To Azrael, being hated was like pure fame. He stood in the spotlight, viewed by all, lingering in their thoughts of despise.

Who wouldn't enjoy that? It was every villain's joy to be that famous.

The most glorious feeling, however, was watching them suffer.

"Take this," Azrael said as he threw his sword, which landed perfectly, pinned to the earth right in front of Evan.

"Take that weapon as a token of your resilience in our fight. You've earned it."

Evan lifted the dragon slayer sword with both hands. It felt a bit heavy, and the warm steel against her skin gave a sense of peace and destruction, like a sleeping dragon.

"Thank you."

"Now that's over with, I'm bored. I need to explore the city. Follow along, little mortal," Azrael said, walking to the door.

Evan nodded, then placed the sword in the sheath of her destroyed sword, which, surprisingly, fit perfectly.

"And what about the damages you've caused?" the manager finally spoke up.

He was the manager of the inn; no one had the right to intimidate him, or else he'd send them packing.

Well, those were just thoughts he'd never actually voice aloud.

His expression, however, showed the frustration that threatened to make him go bald.

Azrael simply used his abyssal maw control, and a bag of gold coins landed in the manager's grasp.

Instantly, his sour expression softened, and a bright smile appeared.

"I hope that will be enough to cover the damages. Now clear a path, you maggots, before I erase you from existence!"

The small crowd quickly dispersed, ending the little event. From what they had seen Azrael could do, they dared not object to his power.

As always, in this world, where there is power, there is respect.

As they exited the inn, people stared at them once in a while, trying not to get noticed.

Well, they were doing a pretty bad job.

Whispers clung to the atmosphere, and Evan picked up a few:

"Look at them, they're the ones who started a fight in room 604..."

"Yes, they almost destroyed the building. Do they know how much it costs?"

"They probably don't. Poor people who spent months trying to gather enough money to rent a room, just to show off..."

"Pitiful; they have no class, just simple barbarians..."

The news about the fight had spread like wildfire, and people had all sorts of opinions and insults, calling them poor, classless, and more.

Evan looked at the indifference in Azrael's eyes, and she admired it.

Azrael didn't care; if he wanted, he could extinguish all life within a 20-mile radius in ten minutes. Yet he remained unfazed by their words, not wanting to draw too much attention to himself.

For now, he preferred to stay under the radar and rebuild his empire until he was strong enough to face any being that came his way.

After they exited the building, they entered a bustling crowd, with people moving back and forth, either buying items from roadside vendors or simply passing by on their way to various destinations.

Firstly, they were starving and searching for a place to quench their raging hunger.

Luckily, after wandering around for a while, they finally reached a restaurant a mile away from the inn.

The building was well-decorated in an eastern style, with beautifully crafted roofing, elegant walls, and a sign that read Choi Yang Food Place.

As Azrael stepped forward, he suddenly felt a sensation run through his body, like a long-lost connection being restored.

This aura was something he was very familiar with.

In fact, he himself had once exuded that aura. Though it was faint now, almost nonexistent, it was still present.

If any other god had been here, they would have felt uneasy from the aura, likely shaking in their boots.

Without hesitation, Azrael entered the restaurant and surveyed the room filled with people eating and conversing.

"Look, that spot is empty," Evan said, taking a seat with Azrael.

Upon inspecting her companion's face, Evan could see he looked troubled—something she hadn't expected from a being like him.

"What's wrong?"

"About three tables in front of us sits the enemy of the gods... my creation."

"A Godslayer."

***