Chapter 475 An old tale II
The blessed race — Azazeal remember that's what everyone called them.
It was a race that naturally held supreme authority throughout the universe because all of its members possessed something celestial within their bodies from birth.
The people of that race bore a human appearance but possessed a pair of unique eyes that set them apart from humans. No matter the eye color, there would always be two slits in the center of their pupils.
Moreover, within that race, almost everyone had the potential to achieve the celestial rank because of their natural gift and exceptional talent.
However, due to this distinctiveness, the population of the race was always small, typically not exceeding a hundred members.
And even if the numbers somehow exceeded a hundred, the elder individuals would leave the universe as soon as they attained the celestial rank to avoid disrupting the balance of power.
Azazeal blinked as the obsidian in his pupils began to shift away, unveiling the two purple slits within. Instantly, a mocking gleam flashed through his eyes.
"The most powerful race, huh?"
He thought about the tale he shared with Kyle just moments ago. It revolved around the same blessed race that was ordinary yet so powerful at the same time.
The survivor in that story was one of the youngest members of that very race. A young kid, barely nine years old, whose mother hid him inside a separate space to protect him from the people who came to slay their entire race. The very race they themselves called blessed?
How laughable.
The nine-year-old kid held the celestial bones in his body, a blessing from nature, just like his entire race who carried a celestial element within them from the beginning of their lives.
After all, they were the last, yet distant descendants of the pure celestial race that had become extinct after the last of them transcended mortality and left the universe to fight among themselves because the mortals were too weak to even witness their powers.
However, just like how precious gems captivate admirers, their blessing stirred jealousy and envy among all the other races in the universe. This was the reason why the kid's mother, despite knowing she would die once she used the last of her strength, created a separate space to save her one and only child.
Azazeal gazed at the sky as purple and obsidian particles emanated from his skin, coalescing to create a beautiful purple flower with numerous petals nestled between his collarbones.
The flower petals radiated a faint yet brilliant light, but they were completely tainted by the red and dark spots within.
"Her tear-streaked face... I'm glad I can't recall it anymore."
His ears buzzed with distant cries, and the scene before him blurred to show a familiar kid with striking obsidian eyes, each holding two purple slits within them. The eyes were fixed on the tragic event unfolding just a little distance away from them.
The kid sealed his lips and ceased all movements to ensure that the fragile curtains of the separate space created around him stayed intact as he watched everything being drenched in crimson.
Not to mention, those who did it loudly declared before his very eyes that they were purging the universe of wicked individuals... as the blessed race had veered off the right path after washing their bodies in dark energy just like the demon race.
However, he witnessed it all... when they slyly chuckled amongst themselves, whispering about how they would divide the otherworldly blessing within the bodies of the people they killed. The kid was certain of their actions as they carried the bodies away right before his eyes. It was the first time he saw so many races together, and the most beautiful among them were the golden dragons and the winged people who soared across the pitch-black sky after the entire land where the blessed race lived was shattered into pieces to ensure they hadn't missed anyone alive.
Yet, he remained silent even as the air around him grew suffocating... just as his mother had instructed him to do... Aze, you must stay quiet. Do not make a sound. The sky darkened even further, turning a deep red, almost as if mourning the blessed beings who perished beneath it.
He didn't know how many days or weeks had passed when the curtains around him finally began to break, and he collapsed on the ground, gazing at the remnants of what was once his home.
The kid wandered among the ruins, looking at the clear sky, hungry, with clothes that had become soiled with sweat from his time in that confined space. Only a few words managed to escape his parched throat that had turned so dry that it was difficult to even speak.
"Is it... finally over?"
After gazing at the broken land one final time, he started walking with a blank mind, filled only with the cries and sights he had witnessed while hiding inside the separate space, just like a useless person.
He walked and walked until his legs gave out because he wanted to go to a faraway place where the air wasn't filled with the suffocating stench of blood. But then he noticed a teleportation array drawn in the middle of the ruins, undoubtedly by the people who killed his race.
Having started learning at a young age, he managed to activate the array with hands that were trembling, even though his body contained not even a speck of mana as he had not yet awakened his talent.
His empty stomach twisted with pain as he used the array, only to drop to his knees the moment he arrived in a different place. But when he raised his head, he saw a bustling area that was completely different from the nightmare he had just left behind.
The remaining brightness in his eyes started to fade, and the two slits in his pupils vanished into the obsidian color when a few people gathered around him with concerned expressions to ask about his identity and why a child was present there, or if he was okay.
He willingly lifted his head so they all could identify him after seeing his eyes and end his life, just like all the others.
But at that exact moment, when he locked eyes with the person closest to him... he realized that his blessing was different from all the others, and it knew how to hide itself when threatened.