A shockwave of raw force blasted forward, tearing through the entire altar and sending everyone flying backward like rag dolls. They crash onto the temple's walls, which fracture further.
Azrael reappeared midair, stabilizing himself with a burst of black lightning. "Pseudo demigod level…" he muttered grimly. "Great. I thought I was lucky earlier. Why would I be lucky at any moment, when my whole life is nothing but a mess?"
He clenched his fists. His lightning coiled tightly around his arms like serpents ready to strike. "Then I guess I have no choice but to depend on his power."
The Werewolf Lord tilted his head, amused. "Show me, human. Show me more despair. I would love to see despair from you more than ever, the one who forced me to such an extent…"
Azrael turned serious. "Despair? My whole life is filled with despair. Not even death can bring me despair. What can your stupid powers bring to me…"
