The battle of Sword might - 4

Even now, as he prepared to unleash it, he could feel its dormant power waiting to be released.

The devastation it had wrought during his experiments was still fresh in his mind.

And so, he had named it fittingly: Blade of Reaper's Slaught. It was a name that had come to him in the heat of battle, a name that perfectly embodied the sheer devastation the technique would bring.

Azrael stood calmly, his piercing gaze fixed on Aragon, sizing him up. There was an eerie stillness in his demeanor, as if he hadn't even begun to tap into the well of power within him.

His voice broke the silence, dripping with subtle condescension. "Are you sure you can fight further, lad?" he asked, his tone almost taunting, a challenge hidden beneath the question.