Two subjugation teams from both military schools had decided to attack the monsters near the Rift. Though the threat of death loomed heavy, the promise of rewards—and the chance to rise in school ranking—pushed them forward.
Azrael had expected to witness a grand fight between them and the monsters when he picked up the echo of fighting ahead. But nothing of the sort was in sight.
The snow was stained with the blood of both humans and monsters. Lifeless corpses lay scattered across the ground.
"What the hell?" he muttered, frowning. The Chosen, both from the Moon Breakers and the Elite school, had acted faster than expected and attacked—only to be slaughtered.
He examined the bodies carefully. Numerous wounds—some were scorched, others torn apart. Burned flesh, missing limbs. Whatever horrors they faced in their final moments, Azrael didn't know. All he could do was guess, judging by the frozen expressions of fear etched onto their faces.
The grip on his scythe tightened as the coldness seeped deeper into his bones.
The fog slowly began to disperse, allowing him to witness the Rift in its full glory, this was the first time he had seen one so close. Even if it was the lowest Danger Level possible, it proved to be far worse than he had expected.
A wave of dread crashed over his body, screaming for him to run. At the same time, something deep in his soul urged him to enter the Rift and clear it. It wouldn't be exaggerating to say that he felt himself being torn in two.
Taking a shallow breath, he crouched, eyes landing on the monsters he had seen before when he and Victor had exited from the cave.
Around a dozen Cryothanes stood nearby. Yet rather than fighting, they seemed calm. No Chosen were left to duel them. No infighting among the creatures themselves.
All the Chosen who dared challenge them were dead. And the reason for the eerie calm nature of the beasts became clear.
One being stood above the rest. Towering. Dominant. No one had been foolish enough to confront it.
Humanoid body, two arms and legs, skin paler than a ghost. Its head lacked any features except a large mouth that was twisted into a menacing grin. Several rows of black fangs were on display as the monster opened its maw wide.
The next second, its teeth sunk deep into the body of a fallen Chosen. With one swift motion it tore skin, muscle, and bones. Azrael wasn't sure what was worse: the sight or the sound of human meat being chewed.
Had he made a mistake? After seeing the members of the Elite school, he had assumed they'd band together, attack, and eliminate the Tainted monster. He had been so confident in their success that he was planning to ambush them from the rear and devour a few pure souls.
But they had lost.
These heirs of the great clans—those with more experience, better items, and superior skills—had failed.
And yet, they were supposed to clear the zone before being allowed to leave?
'What a joke,' he thought bitterly, eyes growing colder.
He was beginning to doubt whether even five percent of the Marked in the school would live long enough to advance to the next level, as the principal had claimed.
"We're getting out of here," he whispered to Victor. They hadn't gotten too close, it wasn't too late. There was still a chance to slip away unnoticed.
Victor frowned. For some reason, he didn't seem eager to run, now that they were this close.
'Don't tell me... after warning me about the danger, he's about to charge in? If that happens, my cover's blown too.'
Azrael was about to speak again when his body froze for a moment.
'What?' his eyes widened as breathing became significantly easier, almost like there wasn't a Rift and a monstrous being dangerously close near them.
The cold winds picked up speed while the falling snow ceased at a moment's notice.
Faint echoes of ice breaking resonated.
Two silhouettes appeared in the lifting fog that had crowded the area.
Azrael's breath caught, unsure if he was lucky—or very unlucky.
Two intense eyes pierced through the mist, landing on the pale creature still devouring Chosen like breakfast.
"A Tainted monster," a feminine voice spoke, soft and unbothered. "Finally, something worth my time."
The voice belonged to Seraphina. She spoke as if nothing around her posed any threat. The crimson attire she had worn since the beginning remained spotless. The same could be said for the mysterious girl beside her.
Isolde mirrored her calmness, not showing a single emotion on her breathtaking face. Not that she could know what stood before her. Blind, mute, and deaf—she likely had trouble perceiving the world at all.
A large shadow cast over the bloodied snow, as the Tainted monster stood up, smile not leaving its face.
'I'm out of here,' Azrael thought. Whatever reason these so-called angels could stand before a wave of monsters like this without flinching, he didn't know. And he wasn't planning to find out.
"It's too late."
Victor's voice stopped him.
Azrael frowned. "What?"
Victor didn't answer, he simply gestured forward with his chin.
Several of the Twisted monsters had locked their gazes on them.
'Troublesome,' Azrael thought. He was fast, but not fast enough to outrun a pack of quadruped monsters.
Since being attacked from the rear was worse than taking the challenge head-on, he showed himself fully. Victor followed suit.
The two men were drenched in blood from head to toe, giving them the appearance of demons. In contrast, the women on the other side of the monster's group looked elegant and pristine, giving them an angelic look.
Seraphina's gaze shifted from the monster to Azrael.
"Oh, quite lucky to meet you here. I actually wanted to ask you a few questions."
'From bad to worse,' Azrael cursed.
"Don't know what you want with me and I don't care. Just tell me—can you kill the Tainted monster?"
Her thin lips spread into a subtle smile. "Why don't you see for yourself?"
Azrael suppressed a frown, keeping a stoic face. 'Confidence or arrogance?'
He wasn't about to put his life into stranger hands. Making a mental note to sneak away should the chance present itself, he stepped forward.
Mighty roars erupted from the Cryothanes's jaws as they charged forward, their tails tearing through the air, threatening to pierce Azrael from both sides.
His eyes darkened, the world around him seemingly disappearing. The only thing that remained was him and his foes.
'Hesitation is defeat,'
Two tails hurled toward him, aiming to kill him on the spot. He raised his scythe, unfazed. The blade of the weapon intercepted the left attack, while at the same time, his body bent narrowly to avoid the one from the right.
But the Cryothanes were Twisted monsters for a reason—they didn't wait to see if their tails had hit before opening their maws, ready to devour the prey before them.
'Pests,' he cursed, piercing the upper jaw of the creature lunging at him from the left.
The attack from the right, however, was impossible to dodge. It was going to tear him in two.
Thinking fast, he reached for the dagger at his belt and thrust it forward.
An instant later, the Cryothane's jaws snapped shut. Its teeth pierced his right arm but didn't sever it—the dagger had jammed between its upper and lower jaw, halting the bite just in time.
'A damn mess,' he cursed. 'How did I end up facing two monsters I have no business fighting?'
Help wasn't coming. Victor was busy fending off the beasts that had pounced on him.
The two angels, meanwhile, seemed in far better condition. Isolde stood still, her blind eyes locked on the battlefield. Her lips moved, as if murmuring something yet no sound came out.
Seraphina's gaze drifted briefly toward the fallen Chosen—the ones who had clearly overstepped their abilities.
"What a shame," she sighed, taking a calm step forward.
Crimson flames, matching the color of her attire, appeared beneath her feet. Her right palm began to glow. A shining sword began to materialize, casting light over the frozen battlefield littered with corpses.
She was going all out.
There was no trace of hesitation nor fear in her posture. The corruption in the air around her seemed to gather towards her.
Azrael narrowed his eyes. The air became even lighter, with no trace of the corruption that had slowed him down and clouded his judgment. The Cryothanes near him shuddered, their bodies becoming noticeably slower.
Seraphina raised her sword, its tip pointing toward the biggest threat in the area. The frozen ground beneath her shattered.
Then she vanished.