As soon as Azrael entered the underground area, his eyes immediately fell upon a crimson-colored space rift standing in the middle of the chamber.
A barrier surrounded the rift, suppressing most of its energy fluctuations and allowing only faint remnants of power to seep out.
But at this moment, the barrier covering the rift abruptly disappeared, and Azrael saw Boris, who had just deactivated the barrier device at the side sprinting desperately toward the rift, his expression twisted with despair.
Just by looking at his face, anyone could tell that he wanted to retreat into the rift to escape from Azrael.
There was still one full minute before the effects of Absolute Decree would end, and in his current state, Boris was weaker than even an ordinary level 26 Epic Rank warrior.
Seeing him rushing toward the rift, Azrael's eyes flashed with coldness and with a single flick of his wings, his figure blurred and reappeared directly behind Boris.
The Fallen Star in his hand glinted with a sharp, chilling light, and in the next instant—
Boris let out a blood-curdling scream as both of his legs were severed cleanly below the knees. He collapsed to the ground, writhing in agony as a puddle of blood spread rapidly beneath him.
Like Melissa, Boris also possessed an Epic Rank defensive prop—one that was even stronger than hers.
But due to the effects of Azrael's Judge class, which allowed him to judge everyone and everything in existence, even Boris's props had its power reduced by fifty percent.
As a result, the Fallen Star effortlessly tore through its defenses before the prop could even display its true strength.
"D-Don't kill me!" Boris sobbed, snot and tears streaming down his face as he desperately dragged his mutilated body away from Azrael.
Azrael found his pitiful display laughable, and the killing intent in his eyes sharpened even further.
"When you experimented on us…"
A brutal punch slammed into Boris's face.
"…Did you ever think of sparing us?"
Another punch shattered Boris's nose and slammed his head back into the ground.
Azrael could have ended him instantly with a single powerful strike, but to him, such a death would have been far too merciful.
After seeing the tube earlier, he finally understood why he had felt such a powerful sense of urgency, a warning that he would regret it if he didn't hurry and enter the hideout.
It was all because of No.4's condition.
If, instead of taking action the moment he discovered the hideout, he had chosen to wait for the security forces to arrive and handle the matter, No.4 would have undoubtedly died... And when he eventually discovered the truth, he would have definitely regretted his choice.
The memory of No.4's faint, flickering lifeforce when he first laid eyes on her earlier only fueled his rage further and his fury grew like a storm, swallowing him whole.
Two blades of wind materialized beside Boris's hands, severing them in an instant just as his legs had been.
"Arghhh!" Boris shrieked in agony, but his scream was silenced a moment later as another punch crashed into his mouth, breaking his jaw and leaving him unable to cry out.
Boris struggled to lift his head, but Azrael smashed it back into the ground again and again.
Blow after merciless blow rained down, breaking bones and rupturing organs one by one.
Boris wanted to scream, to beg for mercy—but a sudden wind blade sliced his tongue clean off, leaving him mute and drowning in his own pain. Chapters first released on NoveI[F]ire.net
Soon, the effect of Absolute Decree ended, and the vast power of the world that had filled the hideout vanished.
Just before it disappeared, Azrael felt as if something emotionless, devoid of thought or will, as if acting purely on instinct glanced at him for the briefest of moments.
Azrael's expression remained cold and indifferent as he relentlessly continued to beat Boris without pause.
Although Boris's strength returned the moment Absolute Decree wore off, it made no difference as he was already on the verge of death, and his restored power meant nothing.
Only after pulverizing nearly every bone in Boris's body into powder did Azrael finally stop. He drew in a long breath, steadying himself as his storm of emotions slowly subsided.
The crimson aura radiating from him gradually dispersed, and his mind slipped back into its usual calm, calculating state.
Azrael looked down at the blood-soaked, nearly lifeless Boris and sneered.
"Beating you to death a second time brings me just as much joy as the first."
Boris's sunken, hollow eyes glared up at him with hatred, unable to comprehend what Azrael meant.
But Azrael had no intention of explaining. He simply placed both hands on either side of Boris's head.
Boris's eyes widened in terror and he tried to shake his head frantically, desperation twisting his features, but Azrael's cold gaze remained fixed.
Without hesitation, Azrael pressed down with all his strength.
A muffled, sickening sound echoed as Boris's head was crushed into a pulp of blood and bone.
(You have received 100 points of Causality)
The moment Boris was killed, a strange notification flashed before Azrael's eyes and now that his emotions had settled, unlike earlier, he did not ignore it.
"What's this?" He muttered with a faint frown.
As he examined himself, he realized several things felt off.
His gaze shifted to the two wings of wind extending from his shoulders, and his frown deepened further. Even though his mind had been unstable during the fight, he clearly remembered using these wings instinctively, as though he had been familiar with them for a long time.
Taking a steadying breath, Azrael looked once more at the massive crimson rift before him. After a moment's hesitation, he chose not to approach it immediately.
Instead, he turned back toward the damaged elevator and stepped inside, deciding to first check on No.4.
As the nearly-broken elevator creaked and rattled while ascending, Azrael finally opened his status window to review the long list of notifications he had received earlier.