CHAPTER 148: THE PREDATOR’S GAME

The cavern trembled, the molten rivers glowing brighter as the air thickened with unrestrained power. The Elder knelt, chest heaving, his body still quivering from the humiliation of defeat. His Law of Wind had been shattered, his axe knocked aside like a child’s toy, and before him stood the man who hadn’t even drawn his true weapon.

Azariah’s back was turned. He walked away, each step echoing with absolute indifference.

"Stop..." the Elder rasped, his voice breaking with fury. "I am... not finished!"

The air convulsed.

The Elder’s body cracked, flesh splitting as veins glowed an unnatural green. His armor dissolved into fragments of wind, sucked into his skin. His back arched unnaturally, bones snapping, reforming. His face elongated, teeth sharpening into a beak. His silver hair burned into feathers of molten gold.

And then he screamed.

It was not the cry of a man. It was the shriek of a beast, piercing, ancient, resonant with power. His body expanded, feathers erupting until his form blotted the cavern ceiling. His wings unfurled — radiant, vast, each feather a blade of compressed wind. His transformation was complete.

A pedestal golden sky eagle.

One of the apex monsters.Their affinity with the Law of Wind was absolute, turning the air itself into a storm of blades.

The Elder, no longer man but monster, beat his colossal wings. The cavern exploded.

A tornado rose from nothing, a howling storm that crushed molten rivers flat and sent fragments of volcanic stone hurling in every direction. His golden eyes blazed with bloodlust, his aura suffocating.

And yet—

Azariah stopped.

He turned his head, for the first time since the fight began, a grin spreading faintly across his lips. His eyes gleamed like a storm given form.

"Finally," he said, his voice carrying over the shrieking storm. "You’ve decided to amuse me."

Black lightning surged.

The air warped, space itself bending. Sparks cascaded across the ruined cavern, crawling along Azariah’s body like serpents of destruction. And then, with a casual gesture, he raised his hand.

From the chaos, another blade formed.

Longer, sharper, even more violent than the last. A sword of pure black lightning, arcs writhing, the air hissing in agony as the blade came into existence.

The cavern dimmed beneath its glow.

The golden eagle shrieked again, fury and pride clashing in its distorted voice. "YOU DARE MOCK ME!?"

Wings snapped downward. The air detonated. A storm of cutting blades surged forward, thousands of wind-feathers sharper than steel, faster than arrows, each one imbued with the force to rend stone to dust.

Azariah stepped once.

His sword moved.

The feathers evaporated. Every single one, erased into sparks the instant they touched the storm surrounding his blade.

The Elder’s beastly eyes widened. "What—"

But Azariah was already in front of him.

One swing.

The colossal eagle screeched as lightning carved across its wing, golden feathers exploding in a storm of sparks. The beast crashed against the cavern wall, smashing stone and sending lava geysering upward.

Azariah did not chase. He simply walked, his casual stride unhurried, the sword resting at his side.

The Elder rose, wings battered but not broken. His screech shook the cavern, summoning a gale so violent it began dragging the molten rivers into a vortex of spiraling flame and air.

From his beak, he unleashed a concentrated blast — a compressed beam of wind that carved through stone like butter.

Azariah tilted his head. His sword flicked upward.

The beam split. The attack that could have split a mountain in two dispersed into harmless currents, hissing as they collided with the cavern walls.

The Elder’s fury only grew. His wings blurred, vanishing into golden light. In an instant, the cavern filled with slashing arcs from every direction, countless blades of wind meant to drown Azariah in unavoidable destruction.

Azariah raised his sword.

One slash.

The world shattered.

Black lightning erupted like a tidal wave, consuming the incoming blades and hurling the eagle backward as if swatted by a god. Feathers burned away, lightning scars carved across its golden hide.

The beast screamed in agony, the cavern quaking. Yet Azariah only tilted his head, watching.

"Pathetic," he murmured.

His tone wasn’t anger, nor mockery. It was disappointment.

The Elder dove, wings folded, his entire body a golden spear. The gale around him reached its peak, turning his descent into a meteor strike of divine wrath.

Azariah didn’t move until the last second. Then his sword flicked sideways.

The colossal form slammed into the ground. A crater formed, molten rock spraying like a volcano erupting — but Azariah was already on the eagle’s back, his blade casually pressed against its neck.

The Elder thrashed. The winds roared, tearing apart stone and lava alike, but Azariah did not budge. His feet were anchored as though the storm itself bent around him.

He dragged his blade across the feathers. Sparks flew. A line of seared flesh carved itself along the beast’s neck, smoke hissing from the wound.

The Elder screeched in pain, throwing himself into the air. He spun violently, crashing against walls, slamming into stalactites, desperate to shake off his tormentor.

But Azariah remained. He stood balanced, his grin widening, black lightning crawling more violently across his body.

Every movement of his blade left trails of destruction, shallow wounds across golden feathers that oozed smoke and sparks. He wasn’t trying to kill. He was marking, scarring, reminding the Elder of his helplessness.

"Dance harder," Azariah whispered, his voice carrying even above the storm.

"You’re too slow."

The Elder’s madness peaked. His golden form blazed, his wings turning into hurricanes incarnate. He unleashed his full power, his demonized core burning as he screamed:

"DIE, ZODIAC!"

The air collapsed inward, condensing into a singularity of wind — a sphere so dense it warped light itself. With a beat of his wings, he hurled it forward, a compact apocalypse that could erase the cavern entirely.

Azariah raised his sword.

Lightning converged into its edge, warping reality around it.

He swung.

The sphere broke. Not with a sound, but with silence. It simply ceased to exist, shredded into fragments of air before detonating outward in harmless breezes.

The Elder froze mid-flight, disbelief in his monstrous eyes.

And then Azariah was there.

One thrust.

The black lightning sword pierced through the golden chest, arcs exploding outward, dancing along every feather, every bone. The beast convulsed violently, its wings spasming as if the heavens themselves had turned against it.

Azariah leaned closer, whispering into the beast’s ear.

"You should have stayed human."

He twisted the blade.

The cavern erupted with a storm of lightning.

When the light faded, the Elder’s form collapsed. His feathers burned away, his golden sheen dulled, his body shrinking back into a twisted half-human, half-beast husk. His axe lay shattered, fragments scattered across the lava rivers.

He gasped weakly, blood spilling from his beak-like mouth. His once-proud eyes were wide with terror, locked on the man before him.

Azariah stood over him, the lightning blade still humming softly, arcs trailing from its edge like snakes seeking prey. His grin had faded. His expression returned to indifference.

"You forced me," Azariah said calmly, almost as though disappointed in himself. "To create a second blade."

The Elder choked, trying to speak, but only blood came out.

Azariah raised his sword.

Black lightning surged, swallowing the cavern.

When it cleared, there was nothing left of the Elder. Only ash, sparks, and silence.

Azariah let the conjured blade dissolve into fading arcs.

Not once had he unsheathed his real sword.

And that truth — that terrifying truth — this man is a real monster who seemed to have gotten stronger. The mysterious organization leader saw a bit of the fight through the elder soul. Azariah was aware of it, he purposely let them watch maybe he could trace them but unfortunately, he couldn’t.

’’How cautious of you. Well, it doesn’t matter a rat is still a rat no matter how big it is.’’

He turned, resuming his walk into the deeper dark. But found nothing else.