Chapitre 8: Fall of the White wolf clan—1
The celestials were not on good terms with each other, which is why each race separated to form their own organizations or methods of gaining followers to strengthen their power.
Followers were crucial for celestials. If they wanted to gain more power and dominate other celestials, they needed people to worship them.
Believers generated energy that celestials could convert into celestial energy, empowering themselves.
The Omni-Power Suppression (OPS) was an organization specializing in hunting down anything related to celestials.
They operated like a military force, choosing not to be controlled by the gods.
For a long time, gods were seen as the higher beings most people worshiped.
However, these gods were as corrupt as politicians.
The gods had already begun to pose a threat to humanity, and with a mere snap of their fingers, humans could be wiped out.
So, it was best to eliminate them while humans were still seen as insignificant fools.
Body Capacity (BC) was the measure of how much power Azrael's current body could contain.
Any excess energy would destroy his body, which is why acquiring a new one was crucial.
He wasn't sure how the system would provide a new body—whether he'd transfer into a new host or if his current body would undergo an upgrade.
Either way, he didn't care, as long as he could return to his peak or, better yet, surpass it.
The bullet that pierced Elder Fin's head narrowly missed Azrael, who effortlessly dodged it by tilting his neck to the side.
The large cuts on his throat were healing slowly due to the significant damage he'd sustained.
Bending his neck might have severed a few muscle fibers, but they healed quickly.
Slowly, individuals in black OPS suits approached, each gripping specially made firearms with itchy trigger fingers.
"Get on your knees!" one of them shouted, ready to fire at any moment.
"Hmm, who might you be?" Azrael asked, tossing Elder Fin's corpse aside.
"Men in black armor... no, something more like fibers."
"You don't harness Celestial energy, so you're just humans."
"Welcome, I am the—"
Azrael's speech was cut short as the butt of a KSG-12 shotgun slammed into his face.
The KSG-12 is a high-powered, semi-automatic shotgun designed for tactical use.
It features a 12-gauge chamber, a durable polymer body, and an adjustable stock for stability.
With an 8-round magazine capacity, it excels in close-quarters combat, making it ideal for ambush operations.
"I said, get down!" one of the soldiers barked.
"How dare you, bastard!" Azrael roared, swiftly grabbing the soldier's helmet and slammed his face into the earth.
"He's a champion! Open fire!" another soldier shouted.
Bang!!
Bang!!
Bang!!
Five soldiers immediately pulled their triggers, unleashing a barrage of bullets at Azrael.
In response, he crossed his hands, summoning a shadow shield.
At first, the shield appeared as smoke, seemingly useless against the high-velocity tungsten bullets—the strongest steel in existence.
But as the bullets neared the shield, it solidified into a dark, impenetrable form.
The bullets that made contact were instantly incinerated into ashes.
And just like that, Azrael dissipated into black smoke and vanished.
"Where did he go?" one of the soldiers muttered nervously.
He couldn't shake his discomfort.
Their bullets, capable of causing serious damage to champions, were turned to ash in front of them.
Worse still, that being had vanished right before their eyes.
Evan, who knew exactly who these people in suits were, tried to remain unnoticed.
But her efforts were futile.
"Hey, you! On your knees!" one of the soldiers shouted at her.
*He must've run away,* they thought.
However, one of the soldiers' shadows began to darken, and Azrael, shrouded in black smoke, emerged from it.
'Keke, Shadow Lock is quite handy,' Azrael thought with a sinister grin.
He immediately struck the soldier's ears from both sides, rupturing his eardrums and causing internal hemorrhaging.
With a heavy thud, the soldier collapsed to the ground, now suffering from severe brain damage.
"Back off, you bastard!" another soldier yelled as he loaded his weapon and unleashed a volley at Azrael. But in a flash, Azrael vanished with the speed of lightning.
He reappeared in front of them, ready to strike and finish them off. However, something strange happened, and a notification appeared.
---
[Warning]
[You have unleashed excessive Dark energy. Your body can't withstand it.]
[Stamina depleted completely.]
---
"Oh no..."
As the notifications flashed, Azrael's veins began to rupture, and his skin cracked like fragile glass, blood dripping onto the ground.
His legs gave out from the blood loss, and he collapsed to his knees, feeling utterly drained.
'What's happening to me?! System?!' he panicked.
[Your body is breaking down. You need energy.]
'This weak body! Energy, huh? Fine—activate the skill!' Azrael shouted internally.
[Devourer skill activated.]
"What's happening to him? His body seems to be shriveling up," a soldier said, confused.
For a moment, they thought their end was near, given the raw power Azrael had displayed.
But now, it all seemed temporary.
"I don't care, just take him down!" another soldier commanded, eager to end the threat.
But just as they aimed their weapons, a beautiful, white-skinned woman—who had been keeping her distance—finally stepped forward.
"Did you boys forget about me?" Evan said with a smirk, grabbing their attention.
Unfortunately, it was too late.
In seconds, Evan had closed the gap between them and decapitated the first soldier she encountered with her blue, lethal claws—the true symbol of the White Wolf clan.
"Damn it, we forgot about her—" the soldier's sentence was cut short as Evan's claw impaled his neck, spraying blood.
The last soldier was about to flee to warn the others.
Although he could have used his telecommunication device, fear overwhelmed him like a constricting python, and it didn't occur to him.
As he tried to escape, Evan snapped her fingers, and a detached claw shot forward, stabbing him in the head.
She then turned to Azrael, whose body had shriveled into that of a 200-year-old man.
He likely wasn't alive anymore.
She had used him earlier to take down a few soldiers and intended to finish him off after the battle, but fate intervened—Azrael collapsed and died.
It had been the perfect distraction to eliminate the remaining soldiers.
"I know you weren't yourself… *sigh*," Evan said, before dashing out of the hut.
'We'll meet in hell, old friend.'
She realized that for OPS soldiers to enter the elders' huts meant they were vulnerable, confirming an attack was underway.
With the elders dead, she wasn't sure if their village could survive this time.
*****
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