The sword of ares cut through the air with a sharp whistle akin to a hypersonic missile.
Lightning pulsed around the white blade, the sky crackling with tension.
It could not be dodged, not when Azarath had seen it too late and the spell was homing.
Azarath suspected as much, so he gave up on escaping. Instead, he immediately teleported the gate of sheol in front of him, using its hulking frame as a shield.
"Foool! The [Gate Of Sheol] cannot be destroyed by magic!" Azarath screamed out, a wide grin on his face as the sword came.
He would suffer a few burns, maybe lose a limb at most. But it was nothing he could not heal.The gates of sheol closed up, the thick metal-like material glowing nefariously.
Clang!
"Bring it on—"
The sword slammed into the gate, the gates giving off a purple hue. And then right before Azarath's wide eyes, it cleaved right through it.
"I-impossible!"
