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The Dark Godslayer

"I was called evil just because I killed a few Gods—Is that right?!! "My actions were justified. Who wants to worship beings who are nothing but power-hungry tyrants?" "So, I slayed them." *Haha!* After a battle that shook the Earth beyond anything recorded in history, the most feared entity—a rogue god—was finally vanquished: the God of Darkness. With his defeat, demi-gods and gods finally found peace, relieved of the threat he once posed. But peace came at a cost. As punishment by the supreme gods, Azrael, the rogue god, was transmigrated into a human body. Stripped of his divine powers, he now had to start from scratch, trapped in a mortal shell that could not sustain the will and power of a god. Just when all seemed lost, a new hope arose. [Ding!!] [New body sustainable unlocked: Reptilian skin] [20% of power gained] [Mission: eradicate all living things in a 20 mile radius] "I am coming for you all!!" **** [Note: Please don't forget to add to your library, and support thank you] Also, not a harem.

Theundyingsaint · ファンタジー
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36 Chs

Void blades.

Dalga's were among the most annoying and unpredictable creatures within the ranks of the Strogois.

In the celestial realm, Dalga's were infamous for causing chaos wherever they went.

They lived in colonies, multiplying rapidly like bedbugs, which made them a persistent nuisance.

These Strogois were of the lowest intelligence, driven by an instinctive penchant for violence.

Wild and perpetually hostile, they attacked indiscriminately, making them exceedingly dangerous—especially with their ability to transform their goo into crystallized weapons.

To Azrael, they could have been the perfect tools for war, but their erratic behavior rendered them too unreliable to control.

Not to mention their grotesque, unappealing appearance, ugly, almost skeletal humanoid forms with no flesh on their bones.

Their black, charred-looking skin wasn't burnt—it was naturally tough.

They had dark purple eyes with white pupils and shark-like brown fangs that only added to their monstrous look.

"Ugly bastards," Azrael muttered.

Cory, one of the females in their group, quickly activated her special ability, creating a light blue, transparent dome to shield them from the incoming attack.

The others grimaced, assuming it was too late for Azrael. The rain of spikes was already upon him.

The sharp projectiles slammed into the ground with such extraordinary force they buried themselves inches deep, each shard carrying enough weight to crush a person.

The spikes that struck Cory's dome ricocheted harmlessly, but the group braced themselves for the worst.

All eyes turned toward "Mike" (Azrael), expecting to see him riddled with spikes and turned into a grotesque pincushion man.

Instead, what they saw left them in stunned silence.

Azrael stood calmly, his hands in his pockets. Around him, shards of destroyed crystals—now pulverized into fragments smaller than dust littered the air.

Had they paid closer attention, they would have noticed Azrael using a single hand to deflect every spike.

But he hadn't merely deflected them—he had shattered each one with his palm as effortlessly as a master martial artist breaking wooden boards.

Azrael's perfection in combat was the result of relentless training and discipline.

While other gods pursued political power or devoted themselves to the supreme ones, he had honed his skills to an unparalleled level.

This was why Azrael was feared—why he was the greatest threat to the celestials, nearly unstoppable.

"Big brother! Are you okay?!" Charlotte shouted, running toward him with the others.

Azrael sighed inwardly. 'I thought they would have died from that... Arrgh!'

The group surrounded him, checking for injuries.

"Enough," Azrael said flatly, pointing to the fallen Dalga. "The fight is not over."

He turned toward the edges on the valley.

"Now, the real fun starts. Don't bitch around, time to clear out some pests."

"Kerrrgggg!!!"

The shrill cries of the Dalgas echoed across the valley, signalling their arrival.

From the boulders, they leaped into the air with screeches and chatter, their movements almost a blur—just black shades darting from side to side.

"Damn bastards!,"

He took two steps forward, spun around, and severed the heads of two Dalgas, their bodies collapsing to the ground, cold and lifeless with just his palm.

"You're just pests to me!" he growled, kicking one so hard that it smashed against a boulder and exploded on impact, black blood splattering across the walls.

Some tried to stab him with crystallized goo covering their arms, which had hardened into dagger-like weapons.

He dodged their attacks smoothly, even the ones launched at him, before smashing their heads into the earth the moment they came within range.

The Dalgas were five-foot-tall, skinny creatures. While they lacked mass, their speed and agility made them highly efficient in joint combat.

With so many darting and stabbing around him, Azrael eventually suffered punctures to his back and chest.

'They might be weak and dumb, but they sure know how to strategize their attacks,'

Nevertheless, he ripped out one of their hearts, took a taste, and removed the spikes embedded in his flesh.

His wounds healed instantly, even though one had pierced his heart.

His body was already dead; it was merely a vessel for his soul.

As a result, injuries—no matter how severe—weren't enough to incapacitate him.

Unless, a large chunk of him was ripped off.

He could keep fighting while his wounds regenerated.

The others joined in, though they were wise enough to stand behind Azrael, who dealt with the majority of the creatures.

They focused on the strays—those with broken parts, immobilized, or attempting to attack from behind, though there were only a few of those.

At first, about thirty were slaughtered, but more kept coming. Indeed, they were like pests.

'I guess I'll have to use a skill,'

"I awaken you from the depths of the shadows! Sharp and radiant with malice, destruction, and blood you bring—I call upon Void Blades!"

His hands stretched out as his eyes glowed crimson, and spatial shadows materialized in the sky, forming a dome that completely surrounded them.

Charlotte and the others swallowed hard, the oppressive pressure of the shadows bearing down on them, sending shivers through their spines.

"What kind of skill is that?!" Lucas, the coward of their group, blurted out in fear.

In the war against the celestials long ago, the skill had been exponentially useful in large-scale attacks or as a desperate move when he was pinned in a dangerous situation.

It was well known for its devastating effects when activated, bringing death in its wake and leaving blood behind.

However, the most severe part of it was that whoever the unlucky soul caught between this rampaging skill was, they would end up torn apart.

With his hands spread, he nonchalantly waved them back down, signaling for it to be unleashed with full force.

Like bullets fired simultaneously from multiple directions, blade-like slashes were sent out from the dark shadows to descend upon them.

"Let the chaos begin, hahaha!!"

[-20% energy]

It moved so fast that it exploded the earth upon impact; every corner was destroyed, leaving three-meter craters in its wake.

The ground shook from the powerful collisions, and even some giant walls crumbled.

"Damn!!! He's gonna kill us!!"

***

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