The morning felt unlike any Zerek had ever experienced.Not because of the weather or the scenery… but because, for the first time in his fifteen years of life, he walked beneath the sun.
His skin—pale as marble—shivered under the gentle warmth of spring. The breeze that wandered through the streets carried the scent of flowers and laughter. It was a quiet town, untouched by war, magic, or blood. To Zerek, it felt like stepping into another world.
He turned his head—and saw her.
Her golden hair shimmered in the light. Her eyes—blue, soft, endlessly sorrowful—rose to meet his with that silent tenderness he always believed he didn't deserve.She was thin, fragile, her body marked by years of hardship.But to Zerek, she was everything. The only reason he could still feel human.As long as she smiled… as long as her voice could reach him… the world could burn, and he would still call it beautiful.
For the first time, he believed in a future.And that's what made it hurt so much.
The perfect day shattered—like silk set ablaze.Flowers withered. The air grew heavy, poisonous. Houses crumbled as if consumed by time.Everything died.And she did too.
He held her in his arms as her body grew colder, paler. Her lips trembled. Her fingers reached for his cheek, as if to stay one second longer.Zerek screamed. Screamed until his voice broke. He didn't know how to stop it. Didn't even know what it was.All he knew… was that he was the center of the disaster.
It took three hours to contain it.By then, twenty kilometers around him were reduced to nothing but dust and corpses.
Zerek awoke in his carriage, gasping for breath.That dream—again.That cursed memory, carved into his soul like a brand.And yet… he didn't hate it. Because in that dream, he could still see her.Even if it was her final moment, she was still with him.
The landscape beyond the window was cold and colorless. The icy plains of the Aurel Kingdom stretched wide and silent. He was no longer with Elizabeth or the royal entourage. The moment his humiliating loss at the tournament ended, he had withdrawn—at least formally.
He had no patience for unnecessary visits or diplomatic games.He had his own kingdom.His own war.His own guilt.
The moment he crossed the outer borders of Aurel… he felt it.A shift in the air. A fracture in time itself.
Using his Temporal Step, he vanished just as a devastating energy beam obliterated the carriage and everyone inside. No bodies remained. Only a scorched crater, still hissing with residual ether.
Zerek reappeared several meters away, floating. He dusted off his coat with mild irritation and adjusted his silver-rimmed glasses. This wasn't new. Being him meant there was always someone willing to pay to see him dead. He was used to it. Even welcomed it.
"Just what I needed," he muttered with a crooked grin.
He looked up.And there he was.
Floating in the air like a divine sentinel, as if he'd been waiting for this moment for centuries. Slender. Elegant. Radiating silent lethality.
"Azrael…" Zerek whispered with a mix of sarcasm and disdain. "So you're taking this ridiculous Selection seriously enough… to start by killing me?"
Azrael looked down at him, not with anger—but with calm, absolute contempt.To him, Zerek wasn't a prince.He wasn't even a threat.He was a mistake. A stain that needed to be erased.
Selection?Azrael nearly laughed at the word. A political farce to delay the inevitable.He had only agreed to participate so the Congress would finally give him the legal grounds to end Zerek's existence.
Every vote. Every signature. Every smile.All of it… led to this.
Holding back the fire that boiled inside him, Azrael spoke with a chilling calm.
"Of course my kingdom wants the Bloodstell," he said as he slowly descended, his voice like a verdict. "But I agreed to this charade under one condition."
Zerek crossed his arms, smirking.
"Let me guess—kill me."
"How perceptive."
"So, what's the reason? Did I kill someone you love?"
The answer came like a blade to the heart.
"You killed many," Azrael whispered, his voice drenched in grief. "Everyone I loved."
The air itself shivered.
Azrael's aura changed—like a calm sky splitting open before a storm.What had once been composed now roared with silent wrath.
The temperature dropped. The earth cracked.Zerek didn't flinch.He laughed.
"If I had a Bloodstell shard for every fool who's told me that," he said, stepping forward, "I could've bought this war. No need to woo that spoiled girl."
With a snap of his fingers, the scythe appeared.
It didn't form.It screamed into existence.
Forged from shadows and anguish, its blade twisted the air. Hundreds of souls howled within, their cries reshaping reality. It wasn't a weapon.It was a curse made flesh.A window into Hell itself.
Azrael didn't blink. He descended with the stillness of a falling star.
And without so much as a gesture…
BOOM!
A divine thunderbolt tore the sky apart and struck where Zerek had stood.
But he was gone.Reappearing just beside Azrael, smirking.
"Too slow."
Then—something unseen struck him like a divine fist.Zerek was launched through the air, crashing against a distant cliff.The ground trembled.Dust rose.And yet, he emerged unscathed—furious.
"What the hell was that!?"
He didn't care. Not anymore.
He clenched his teeth and activated one of his darkest abilities.By sacrificing a soul trapped within his scythe…He bent reality itself.
A fraction of the present twisted. Whatever had struck him—would miss next time.
He reappeared again, ready.
This time, his scythe sliced through Azrael's neck.
Clean.
Precise.
The head rolled across the ground like a cursed fruit.Silence.Triumph.Or so he thought.
A crack tore through the air."Hey… something's wrong," growled the voice of his weapon, a metallic echo dripping with disdain.Zerek narrowed his eyes, irritated."What do you mean? I just decapitated him… his soul should be in your belly.""That wasn't a soul."
Before he could reply, a supernatural howl erupted from the scythe. As if poisoned, hundreds of trapped souls began violently escaping the weapon. A tide of spectral light burst in every direction—like a nightmare vomiting itself into the world. They screamed. They wept. They died a second death.Zerek tried to reassert control, to tame the fury of his weapon. But he couldn't.His scythe trembled, gasping, as if something inside was rotting. With no other choice, he dematerialized it… and the darkness ceased.
A cold laugh brushed the back of his neck.The severed head on the ground twisted and writhed like a parasite, transforming into a mass of black jelly.From it, a new Azrael emerged… identical to the last. And he was not alone.Beside him, the real Azrael hovered—untouched.
Now there were two.Zerek didn't feel fear. He felt rage.He hated what he couldn't understand. What mocked his senses. What defied logic.
Lightning continued to fall around him like divine blades. Each strike devastated the land, creating craters and curtains of fire. The energy in each blast was immense. Zerek estimated that each shot must cost at least half a Bloodstell stone.That comforted him.Nothing is infinite.
His Temporal Step consumed barely any resources by comparison.In a war of attrition, he had the upper hand.And yet…There was still a problem.
Every so often, something invisible would strike him.Precise, monstrous hits that he couldn't predict.His body and wards protected him, yes… but he couldn't fight an enemy he couldn't see.Azrael barely moved. Meanwhile, he bounced from place to place like a frantic grasshopper.
It infuriated him.
The dormant scythe growled from its pocket dimension."This guy's dangerous, kid. Stop playing around."For the first time, Zerek heard something odd in the voice of his weapon. Was it… fear?
He removed his coat, folded it, and tossed it aside.Loosened his tie. Let it fall.With one swift tug, he ripped off his shirt—revealing a body carved by perfection, etched with tattoos that looked like ancient magical circuits.The markings began to glow with electric blue intensity, sparking like trapped lightning in his flesh.
"Why is your opponent still alive? I want his soul!" roared the spirit bound to the weapon."Shut up. He disarmed me. He neutralized the weapon you gave me!""Impossible! Nothing can neutralize a weapon forged by me! Stop wasting time—use me and kill him!""I can kill him without you!""You are nothing without me! Use me, or die here like the arrogant dog you are!"
Zerek clenched his jaw.He had no choice.
He raised his hands, tattoos flickering like a living storm.The air thickened. The ground began to rot.
"Rivales externum manifestium omnipotencium manifestium… manifest, Santa Muerte."
The world seemed to stop.
An angelic figure emerged behind him, rising like an apparition from the folds of another dimension.A woman. Her skin was pale as ancient wax, her eyes hollow as eternity. Her dress was a funerary shroud. Her crown, an offering of bone.Her face… was hers.The girl from his dreams. The one who always died in his arms.The only one he ever loved.
The figure embraced him from behind, arms lovingly curling around his neck in a macabre tenderness.And then… Zerek shone.His body transformed. His skin became living marble. Two angelic wings, beautiful and tragic, unfolded from his back.
He looked like a god.A god… of death.
Around him, life began to disappear.The grass turned to ash.Insects dropped like black rain.The trees collapsed.The air became heavy… putrid.Everything died.
"This is my pact," he said with calm, deadly clarity. "Santa Muerte.The death radius will continue expanding… until I stop it.And there are only two ways to stop it: I shut it down…Or I die."
Azrael descended, his expression serious for the first time.But not afraid.
"So this is how you destroyed that city, isn't it?"Zerek nodded."It took me three hours to stop her. By then, twenty kilometers were already a graveyard.""Don't worry. This time… that won't happen."
Azrael raised both hands, performing sacred, impossibly fast seals.A titan with a thousand arms materialized behind him, a glowing wheel spinning on its back like a mechanical star. Each arm held a symbol—some blessings, others punishments.
"This is Zanjará," he declared. "The one who governs the cycle of reincarnation.Today… we'll release every soul you've enslaved with your damned death."
The skies darkened.The earth trembled.And the war of princes… truly began.