Cleaver Of Sin

Chapter 1253: Azazel’s Thoughts

As Azaron left, space tore in a particular direction, and through that destroyed space, Azazel stepped out. He floated in the air for a moment, his gaze shifting towards the ground as he surveyed the destruction Azaron had caused.

Although he couldn’t bring himself to watch Azaron wipe out everybody, he had remained nearby, just in case, and with Azaron gone, he decided to show himself. Although Azaron had held back by wiping out everyone at once rather than letting them suffer before their deaths, his heart still felt heavy.

As for the Knights Azaron had killed before he wiped out half of the Empire, he didn’t even feel anything for them. Personally, he didn’t care about Nobles and their Knights, as most Knights tended to become arrogant and look down on commoners with condescending gazes, forgetting that they themselves were commoners, too.

If Azaron had just wanted to wipe out the entire Noble ranking within the Velkarin Empire, he wouldn’t have made a move to stop the man, as personally, he couldn’t give two fucks about Nobles.

But Azaron had targeted ordinary people, wiping out billions of them. Although Nobles were among those who died, it didn’t make the tragedy any less painful.

He was once like these people. He was still a commoner, and his parents were commoners, too. He remembered them waking up every day at the crack of dawn for work, then returning at night or in the evening. He couldn’t help but remember the number of Territory Monster invasions they had survived through the years.

His gaze remained fixed on the enormous sinkhole Azaron had created. He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again. His black eyes shifted towards the other half of the Empire, where various locations lay demolished, buildings shattered, and rubble falling on people, many of whom were injured, while some lay unconscious after fainting.

Azazel watched as many wailed, watched as tears streamed down their faces, and watched as they trembled in fear and pain. The sight before him was a painful reminder of the lives that had been lost.

If only I hadn’t lost...

The thought echoed in his mind like a broken stereo.

He had fought Azaron twice and had brought both battles to a tie. Then, the one time he was fighting for his people and not for fun, he lost. He closed his eyes once more, unable to help wishing he possessed some reality-warping ability. That way, he could bring everyone back to life, and that way, he could end the suffering.

Azazel made up his mind on the spot. Although he wasn’t one to be involved in the Empire’s affairs, he would get in contact with his connections within the Velkarin Military Force and have them help those in pain using his own personal funds.

Although the Military Force was supposed to be focused on the War, the War was as good as over at that moment.

The Emperor was dead, for one, and his Imperial Cabinet members had been wiped out, too. Various Nobles had been erased, the Imperial Knights annihilated, and, finally, they had lost half of their Empire and about sixty percent of their population.

It was a total loss for them. They had gone to War for their Empress, only to lose even more in return.

But the Velkarin Soldiers at the Zarethorne Empire didn’t even know this. At that moment, they would be fighting for their Empire and their fallen Empress, oblivious to the new developments.

But it wouldn’t last long. Knowing Azaron, Azazel guessed the man would end the entire War himself after dealing with every force acting against them across the various Wargrave Frontiers, and not a single Soldier from the Velkarin Empire would escape.

That was how powerful a man like Azaron was.

Powerful enough to wipe out an entire Empire, powerful enough to end the War by himself through sheer power and might.

’When did he even learn that transformation?’

Azazel thought to himself as his mind flickered back to Azaron’s transformation. After thinking about it for a moment, he simply chose to forget about it. All he could do was grow stronger for next time. He couldn’t lose next time. The score was simply one to zero, and he would equalise it next time.

Although he would love to dive into training at that moment, that wasn’t possible. For one, the Vandross and Thalvorn Empires would certainly pounce. They would move to rob the Imperial vaults of every artefact and anything of worth they could get their hands on.

He had to stay and act as a deterrent against these people, as there was no one strong enough to hold back an entire Empire. He was the only one.

Although it would be difficult, the Vandross and Thalvorn Empires had their own powerful people who were no joke.

And as for anybody trying to politically pressure Azaron, capture him, or do anything of the sort, Azazel already knew how such matters would end. Anyone making a move should be prepared to die.

Azazel shook his head. The world was simply unforgiving. They had to face Monsters, Sinvairas, Emovirae, and then men like Azaron, who stood at the threshold of power and were still getting stronger.

Azazel vanished from the sky after a moment as he headed towards the Military Force. Although they would be stretched thin, he needed to help the people.

In the history of the Velkarin Empire, Emperor Horace Sol Virelle would go down as the worst Ruler to ever exist, as, in a mere three months of rule, he had lost nearly everything.

With the ridiculous amount of loss reaching billions, and the surging emotions and bloodshed spreading across the Velkarin Empire, the Sinvairas were about to receive an immense power-up.

This was one of the methods through which they grew stronger: from the bloodshed and emotional turmoil of war and carnage.

But that didn’t mean they instigated war every single year or anything of the sort. Such a thing was simply impossible, as wars couldn’t happen every year when one needed money, people, causes, and motivation to go to war.

Secondly, not every war allowed their power to spike. The carnage and destruction had to be significant, with the numbers and requirements rising each time. Therefore, it scaled according to their current strength every single time.

So, starting another war after this and expecting a power-up from the deaths of one to two billion people would be stupid.

But the Sinvairas didn’t particularly care about this method, as they could cultivate and get stronger on their own. After all, the power-up didn’t sharpen their skills or grant them combat experience and the like; all that had to be acquired by themselves.

At the Velkarin Empire, Halemir appeared once more, his figure invisible. He appeared within a Noble Territory and simply walked down the corridor, whistling nonchalantly about everything.

The Noble House he was within was an ancient one, whose Ancestor had been a powerful individual thousands of years ago. Too bad not every bloodline was like the Wargraves, which could remain abnormal, as this particular Ancestor’s subsequent descendants were weaker because their Bloodline had thinned.

But regardless, the living ones were still geniuses to a certain extent.

He entered their vault easily, as not everyone possessed a sophisticated mechanism like the Wargraves. Upon entering, he picked up an item that seemed like a tongue wrapped in a talisman. It vanished from his hand, and then he turned around and walked away.

He and the other Sinvairas had always known that this particular item was here, but they had never been bothered to retrieve it, as they believed they could acquire it at any time, unlike with the Wargraves, where they had to prepare this entire elaborate scheme just to get Azaron to leave his damn house.