You all lack it!

Ava's ferocious assault left her mouth stained with crimson, blood dripping from her fangs as she swiftly bounded toward her next target. One of the Lyrac soldiers stood frozen in shock, his gaze fixated on the scene unfolding before him—the Emperor's guard blown away by Azrael's devastating attack.

In a desperate attempt to defend himself, the soldier tried to turn his head, but it was already too late. Ava's predatory instincts took over as her razor-sharp teeth pierced through his body, tearing through flesh and bone. The soldier's anguished screams echoed through the air, his blood spilling into Ava's waiting maw. Without a moment's hesitation, she swiftly disengaged and set her sights on her next prey.

Meanwhile, Azrael, his aura dripping with malevolence, closed in on Garcia with deliberate and unhurried steps. Each movement exuded a menacing intent, as if his very presence heralded imminent doom.

Azrael's voice dripped with mockingly cruel amusement as he addressed Garcia, taunting him with disdain, "Was that your savior? The mighty Emperor's guard, lying motionless in the distance. Quite the disappointment, isn't it?"

A smirk played upon Azrael's lips as he continued his derisive mockery, the sunlight glinting off his blade, casting an ominous glimmer. "Hahaha," Garcia's laughter resounded through the area, his confidence unshaken.

"Do you truly believe you've emerged victorious?" Garcia's voice carried a hint of wicked amusement. "Oh no, my friend. All you've managed to accomplish is stoke the flames of his wrath. Prepare yourself for what comes next."

Azrael's gaze locked onto the resurrected Emperor's guard, who rose from the ground where he had lain. Every step the guard took toward Azrael exuded an increasingly palpable and lethal aura, their ki pulsating with a foreboding intensity.

"It was never going to be that simple, was it? Well then, allow me to finish you off first," Azrael declared, determination etched across his face as he unleashed a swift and forceful swing of his sword directly aimed at Garcia.

Yet, before Azrael's strike could land, he abruptly halted his attack, deftly maneuvering his blade to intercept the Emperor's guard's devastating punch. The clash of armour to blade resonated with a thunderous echo, rending the air with its power.

The force of the Emperor's guard's punch reverberated through Azrael's body, propelling him backward with tremendous force. With a sharp impact, Azrael dug his sword into the earth, halting his involuntary flight. As he rose to his feet, his eyes fixated on the fifth Emperor's guard, a faint grin curling his lips.

Azrael's grip on his sword tightened, his resolve unyielding as he launched himself at the approaching guard. His attacks were unrelenting, a flurry of relentless strikes that seemed to multiply a hundredfold with each swing of his blade.

Each motion was executed with a deadly precision, aimed to dismantle the guard's defenses and carve a path to victory. The clash between Azrael and the Emperor's guard intensified, a symphony of clashing steel and surges of energy as they engaged in a battle that surpassed the realm of mortal combat.

To Azrael's astonishment, the Emperor's guard displayed a remarkable ability to block and evade his relentless onslaught. Despite the barrage of strikes from Azrael and the myriad phantom strikes accompanying them, only a handful managed to find their mark, and even then, they inflicted meager damage at best.

As Azrael persisted in his assault, seeking to overwhelm the guard's defenses, he soon found himself on the receiving end of counterattacks. Each time Azrael blocked the guard's sword, the impact reverberated through his hands, threatening to shatter his grip.

Pushed back by the relentless assault, Azrael struggled to halt the guard's relentless advance. Desperate to regain control, Azrael swiftly created distance between himself and his adversary, seeking a momentary respite.

"This is your final opportunity to surrender," the guard declared, his ki swirling ominously as he drove his sword deep into the ground.

"Save your breath and come!" Azrael retorted, his voice tinged with defiance.

"As you wish," the Emperor's guard responded, his grip tightening around his sword, which now emanated a vibrant blue aura.

"Celestial Blade Dance!" the guard proclaimed, his voice resounding with unwavering confidence.

"Here I come!" he declared, launching himself at Azrael with astonishing speed, leaving Azrael struggling to track his movements amidst the blur of motion.

Azrael's reactions were reduced to mere instinct as he barely managed to brace himself for the initial onslaught. The sheer force behind the guard's attack sent Azrael hurtling through the air, his body contorted in pain. Before he could regain his bearings, the relentless guard closed in, slashing through Azrael's defenses with brutal precision.

Azrael found himself trapped within a whirlwind of blue, unable to escape the onslaught. The guard's blade sliced through Azrael's flesh repeatedly, leaving a trail of deep wounds in its wake. The final strike propelled Azrael towards an unforgiving rock, his body crashing against it with a sickening thud.

Blood covered Azrael's entire form, seeping into the earth below. His body, now a canvas of agony, rested against the unyielding surface.

With deliberate steps, the fifth Emperor's guard closed in on the fallen Azrael, his malevolent intent emanating palpably.

"Will you finally surrender?" the guard inquired, a hint of triumph lacing his voice as he approached.

"Surrender... to you?" Azrael's voice emerged as a faint murmur from behind his mask, his words laced with defiance.

"So be it," the guard declared, his resolve unwavering. With a swift motion, he lunged at Azrael, piercing his sword through his already wounded body.

"By the order of the emperor, you shall be executed. What are your final words?" the guard demanded, his voice cold and devoid of mercy.

Azrael's trembling hand slowly reached for his mask, his grip gentle as he removed it, revealing a visage marred by blood and pain.

"My final words?" Azrael's voice emerged, strained and accompanied by the steady drip of blood from his mouth.

"You lack it, all of you lack it. The power that girl possesses is far beyond you. And you see, that is precisely why your lives shall end here today," Azrael declared, his words punctuated by fits of coughing and bloodstained breaths.

"The mask... I took it off because none of you will escape this place alive," Azrael continued, his gaze fixated on the darkening sky.

"Absurd! You're a dead man!" Garcia exclaimed, disbelief tainting his voice.

"Ha, the time has come," Ava spoke, sensing the mounting power that cloaked Azrael.

"First God Form," Azrael muttered, his words a mere whisper. In an instant, a cataclysmic explosion of energy erupted, compelling the Emperor's guard to instinctively retreat.

Garcia staggered backward, his legs pushing him away in a desperate bid to create distance.

"What in the world is that?" Garcia exclaimed, his voice trembling with sheer terror.

Azrael became an embodiment of overwhelming dark ki, its malevolent aura billowing forth and enveloping him. The darkness was suffocating, rendering Garcia barely capable of coherent thought or even drawing a steady breath.

Ava, her once blue fur now transformed to pristine white and her golden eyes turned a haunting shade of grey, observed the unfolding scene with a hint of amusement.

The Emperor's guard remained silent, his unwavering gaze fixed upon Azrael, as he witnessed the astonishing sight of Azrael extracting the sword from his own body, witnessing his wounds miraculously heal before his eyes.

Azrael flung the Emperor's guard's sword back at him, accompanied by a clear directive.

"Do your best to survive," Azrael commanded.

With determination etched on his face, the Emperor's guard grasped his sword tightly, emitting a resolute yell akin to a battle cry, a final desperate attempt to cling to life.

"Celestial Blade Dance!" he bellowed, charging at Azrael with lightning speed.

Yet, this time, it took nothing more than a swift movement of Azrael's deft hand to block every angle of the guard's relentless assault.

In a sudden twist, Azrael seized the guard's sword, gripping it firmly and shattering it into fragments with sheer force.

"So, that was all?" Azrael remarked, delivering a single powerful punch that sent the guard hurtling through the air, crashing into the carriage alongside Garcia.

Azrael's eyes, now glowing with an ominous grey light, focused intensely on the two figures before him as he declared, "Embrace death, you'll find peace."

Raising his hands towards them, Azrael commanded, "Strike."

With a swift flick of his fingers, a devastating surge of dark lightning descended from the sky, obliterating everything it touched. The men, reduced to naught but dust, became one with the swirling abyss of Azrael's absorbed dark ki.