Azazeal watched the chaos for a long time, quietly observing how even the distant light, swallowed by the dark, faded into oblivion.
Sensing the ominous, dark power, even the corrupted beasts—formless creatures born from impure natural energy, dwelling only in the remote reaches of the Celestial Realm's skies, where the concentration of energies was highest—swooped down, drawn to the impure power that amplified their strength.
They entered the darkness, hunting down and tearing through the flesh of Celestials.
As the turmoil dragged on, the land of the Celestial Realm became a crimson sea of blood, flowing from the struggling bodies pulled into the shadows by dark tendrils.
The metallic tang of blood filled the air as countless Celestials ran in desperate flight.
Only then did Azazeal look content.
