Chapter 796 Azazel vs. Hubrion 2
"Lord Azazel, get up!" Iraelyn's voice cut through the chaos, expressing her unwavering moral support for their leader.
To everyone's relief, Azazel rose from the ground, his grin undeterred, even as he wiped away traces of blood. "Heh. I just let my guard down."
Ren and his group fixed Azazel with dead gazes. It was likely his overconfidence and arrogance that would ultimately lead to his demise.
"He's incredibly full of himself, even though he's this weak," Elena couldn't help but comment, her skepticism evident.
"If Hubrion doesn't kill him, I will," Lorelai added, her tone laced with a mix of annoyance and boredom.
"Don't be like that, everyone!" Avaris exclaimed between munches on the kernels. "Lord Azazel needs our support more than anything!"
"I'll believe you if you stop munching on your kernels and actually cheer for Azazel," Elena commented, raising an eyebrow.
Avaris was about to respond, but he was suddenly shocked and let out a scream when Lethargia snored loudly.
"Agh! My kernels!" Avaris cried out in distress as his popcorn flew to the ground due to the shock. He cried that his food were scattered on the floor. Meanwhile, back to the fight, Hubrion flexed his massive axe, and smiled with his pouty red lips, his face blushing as he issued a challenge. "You better fight with all you've got, Lord Azazel, or you'll die. Even if you're not at full strength, I won't show any mercy."
Azazel responded with a huff of laughter. "Just like what I wanted."
Azazel sprinted towards the towering centaur, his fists wreathed in an ethereal darkness that seemed to absorb the ambient light.
The demonic spectators, initially unsure of what to expect, were captivated by the scene. Azazel, in a display of audacity, forewent any weapon and relied solely on the lethal power of his fists. As he closed the distance with incredible speed, the darkness coating his fists seemed to ripple like an otherworldly aura.
Hubrion, wielding his colossal axe with a confidence born from centuries of battle, prepared to meet Azazel's charge. The clash was inevitable, and the anticipation in the arena was palpable.
Upon impact, an eerie resonance echoed through the coliseum as Azazel's fists collided with Hubrion's imposing axe. A surge of darkness emanated from Azazel's fists, swirling around the weapon of the Warlord of Pride. The demonic spectators squinted in disbelief as the axe began to corrode under the influence of Azazel's unique demonic power.
Hubrion was caught off guard for a fleeting moment, and could only watch as the corrosion spread along the surface of his cherished weapon. The shock of the unexpected turn of events flickered in his eyes, but it was a momentary lapse that cost him dearly.
Azazel, seizing the opportunity, unleashed a lightning-quick kick towards Hubrion's face. The kick, coated with the same engulfing darkness, aimed for a vulnerable spot. It was a moment of intense focus and precision, and the demonic crowd held their breath.
But Hubrion, despite the corrosive effect on his axe, proved to be as quick-witted as he was quick on his feet. With a swift and almost supernatural agility, the centaur-like demon evaded Azazel's kick, maneuvering with the grace of a seasoned warrior.
In the blink of an eye, Hubrion materialized behind Azazel, a new axe in his hand and already in motion. The audacity of the centaur's counterattack sent a shiver through the demonic onlookers. A powerful swing cleaved through the space Azazel had occupied just moments before, leaving a void of destructive force in its wake.
Desira and the others, watching the relentless exchange, couldn't contain their cries of concern for Azazel. The demon lord, however, demonstrated a mastery of his demonic abilities that defied the conventional rules of combat.
Fortunately, what Hubrion had struck down was not Azazel himself, but rather a shadowy clone that dissipated into ethereal tendrils upon impact. The real Azazel, utilizing his speed, had seamlessly repositioned himself behind Hubrion.
The battle between the two escalated, each movement blurring with supernatural speed. Azazel, now equipped with a tangible weapon manifested from his own darkness, engaged in a breathtaking dance of offense and defense with Hubrion's formidable axe.
Fists collided with the haft of the giant axe, producing shockwaves of demonic energy that reverberated through the arena. Kicks and counterattacks unfolded in a blur, leaving trails of darkness in their wake. The demonic audience strained to follow the rapid exchange, their eyes struggling to capture the intricate maneuvers of the combatants.
The ferocity of the battle reached unprecedented heights as Azazel and Hubrion engaged in a display of martial prowess that defied the limitations of the physical realm. Each clash resonated with a symphony of destruction and creation, a testament to the boundless power coursing through the demonic combatants.
The arena transformed into a maelstrom of chaotic energy, the demonic crowd witnessing a spectacle that transcended the boundaries of mortal comprehension. As the battle continued, the question of who would emerge victorious remained elusive, buried beneath layers of darkness and the resolute will of the Warlord of Pride.
"Seems like Azazel can really keep up," Evie remarked.
Desira and the others wore solemn expressions despite Azazel's prowess in combat.
"It's not as simple as that . . ." Vivi began.
Desira chimed in with a serious tone, "Azazel is giving everything he's got just to keep up with Hubrion, and the latter hasn't even unleashed his true power."
As the battle continues, it became increasingly evident that the centaur-like demon held the upper hand. The atmosphere within the demonic coliseum crackled with an intensified energy, signaling the unleashing of Hubrion's true power.
With an imposing aura enveloping him, Hubrion tapped into the depths of his demonic might, pushing his limits to achieve a level where all his stats doubled. The demonic spectators, their eyes widened in awe, could feel the surge of magical energy emanating from the colossal figure. The very air rippled with the sheer force of Hubrion's unleashed power.
Azazel, on the other hand, found himself pressed to the brink. He had already been giving his all, channeling every ounce of his strength and demonic prowess into the relentless onslaught against Hubrion.
