Chapter 883: Why hadn’t he killed me?
After a long time, Azazeal finally stirred.
His Celestial essence had successfully crafted a new body for him. His senses returned as he blinked his eyes open.
The purple flower beneath him dissolved into his body and vanished completely. His figure fell down, landing amidst something sticky and foul-smelling with a wet splash.
The first thought that drifted through his foggy mind through all the confusion was.
’I... I am still alive?’
A weak, disbelieving chuckle slipped from his lips as he raised his trembling fingers—now restored, flawless and without a scar.
Kyle hadn’t killed him—the very person he had tried to kill multiple times, humiliated, and used many times. The person he had beaten relentlessly, each time just to vent his frustration. The person he had warned never to show his face before him again.
The person he had threatened—vowing to one day return and annihilate his universe. Yet, despite having the perfect opportunity, that person had not killed him. He hadn’t.
"But why?"
As soon as the question took root in his mind, his cold smile faded completely.
"Why hadn’t he killed me?"
But before Azazeal could think any further, a stench so disgusting it seemed to claw at his nostrils slammed into him. It was thick, putrid, and overwhelming—like a thousand corpses left to rot under the blazing sun.
His stomach lurched, and he doubled over, gagging—only to clamp his nose shut as he realized his body had fallen into something revolting: a foul, tar-like, pitch-black liquid.
"Fuck... who the hell...!"
A sudden curse slipped from his lips as he scrambled to escape, but since his essence had just created a new body for him, he fell into the dark liquid again when it suddenly unleashed a strange, natural pulling force.
The wet splashing sound that echoed next struck a nerve he never knew he had, nearly causing him to collapse again. In that brief moment, unaware of how he had forgotten everything—the weight of every burden—he focused solely on cursing the one who had thrown him here. The one who was surely wearing a smug smirk right about now.
"K-Y-L-E...!"
He shouted loudly through gritted teeth, dragging out each syllable of the bastard’s name—the one who had dared to cast him into such a smelly and wretched place.
He tried to vanish using his natural laws—only to realize he was completely trapped.
The foul, dark liquid around him had been formed by a strange natural law—one that emitted a pulling force powerful enough to neutralize the power of other natural laws.
"Damnit!"
His natural laws were powerful—but his essence had only just finished crafting a new body for him, leaving him temporarily weakened. Worse still, the quantity of the dark liquid around him was too much.
In the end, Azazeal had no choice but to clench his jaw and trudge through the foul liquid, quickly making his way out of what appeared to be the ruins of a mountain.
When he finally emerged from the ruined mountain and stepped into a bustling area filled with various Celestials, he looked no better than a beggar dragged through hell.
His once-proud, tall figure was coated in sludge, his hair clumped and dripping, and the smell radiating off him made everyone recoil with clearly scrunched-up noses.
A vein flared on his forehead as he caught the pitying, wide-eyed glances from those passing by him—the first-stage Celestials who had the audacity to whisper, knowing full well he could hear every damn word.
"Look at that pitiful man. Oh my gosh, did he fall into the Dark Cursed Mountain?"
"How did he even survive that stench? Just a wisp of it can knock one unconscious!"
"Good thing the foul smell can’t leave the mountain. But how unlucky must he be to fall into such a wretched, vile place?"
Azazeal raised his glowing, dark, furious eyes, and his gaze alone was enough to send the Celestials around him fleeing.
He wiped his face, and with a flick of his finger, the tar-like black liquid coating him vanished. Even his clothes were replaced with a fresh set of pants and a shirt.
Yet, even after that, he couldn’t shake the feeling that the foul odor still clung to him.
In the end, he vanished and took an actual bath in a quiet lake he found—though, as a Celestial, it was entirely unnecessary.
He sucked in a deep breath, adjusting the collar of his shirt and brushing away dust that wasn’t even there to begin with.
"I will remember this."
He muttered, the words heavy with quiet fury. Yet, despite his words, he did not rush to find Kyle. He had said that if Kyle failed to kill him, he would kill that man—but now, when the time came, his resolve shifted.
"Later. I will deal with him afterward. Right now, I need to focus on growing stronger."
His voice hardened with determination.
"If I want to get my hands on Nathaniel, I must become far more powerful. At this moment, I am no match for him. I have to reach the pinnacle of the Celestial rank."
With that, Azazeal waved his hand, quickly creating three fake bodies of himself and sending them off to search for treasures.
Then he vanished to strengthen his natural laws and seek new natural laws to master—and if he couldn’t find any around him, he would simply devour them from others.
A cold glint flickered in his glowing eyes as Nathaniel’s face came to mind—the face of someone who looked at him as if he were a stranger. Yet, strangely, his mind was calm.
A lot calmer than before, at least... Well, it was always like this whenever his Celestial essence forged a new body for him.
He felt composed, unnaturally so, as if the chaos within had been caged behind glass—even though his mind still bore the scars of everything he had endured for so long. For now... he was steady. Cold. Focused.
***
At the same time, Kyle was laughing his head off in the Golden Guardians Clan.
He had returned a few days earlier, after disposing of Azazeal’s body in a suitable place, and was summoned by Clan Leader Ares for disappearing when he was meant to be completing his assigned missions.
Kyle accidentally laughed in Ares’s face while imagining how Azazeal would react upon waking from his long slumber—and was promptly punished for his insolence.
He was politely escorted—or rather, badly thrown—into one of the clan’s dungeons and tasked with mining natural crystals.
And right now, that was exactly what he was doing—pickaxe in hand—since using physical strength and natural laws to take out the crystals caused them to shatter.
The Celestials mining nearby all cast bewildered and quiet glances his way.
This was the ninth time he had burst into laughter to himself, causing them to keep their distance, unnerved by his behavior.
Kyle noticed the Celestials moving away and waved his hand, clearing his throat.
"Don’t mind me. Really. I’m just thinking about something... something... pfff."
He burst out laughing again, making the already gloomy atmosphere even heavier.
The Celestials were now truly, thoroughly convinced that something was wrong with his head—after all, who in their right mind would be laughing this much while toiling away in a damp dungeon, surrounded by nothing but cold crystals and silence?