Tmkoc Sex Stories Chapter 231: Azrel
Chapter 231: Azrel
Alistair, son of one of the most powerful women in the world, had never tasted defeat.
He had always had everything.
Hundreds of servants tending to his every whim, bodyguards posted at every turn, mansions scattered across distant lands, and a fleet of luxury cars reserved solely for his daily travels.
Raised with love and pampering, he had never needed to fight for anything in his life. Even his position as the Golden Lord had fallen into his lap, the fruit of his mother’s tireless efforts.
Even as Lord of Whitefall, he had never faced a single true difficulty .
The territory had already been far more developed than Goldenveil when he inherited it. There was no opposition to his rule, and two vassal villages paid him tribute without question.
All the administrative burden fell on his mother’s shoulders, and he himself rarely exerted himself beyond what was absolutely necessary.
In every battle he had ever fought, overwhelming numerical superiority had always been on his side, and he had never once needed to consider the possibility of losing.
He was, without hesitation, what many would call a child blessed with a life far too easy.
But on that day, everything changed.
His soldiers were cornered. Ice spears tore through his allies, flames devoured entire ranks, and the stench of blood and burnt flesh invaded his nostrils.
The agonizing screams of his men echoed from every direction.
For the first time in his life, Alistair tasted the bitter flavor of a real battle.
"ETHAN GOLDENVEIL!!!" Alistair roared, his throat raw with fury. "Face me, you coward! Let me rip your head off—and with it, victory!"
That was all he needed to do.
If he could just kill Ethan, it wouldn’t matter if his entire army were annihilated. Victory would still be his!
Raising a hand that trembled with rage, Alistair activated one of the abilities of his Golden Lord’s ring.
In an instant, his soldiers’ eyes flared with a reddish glow. Veins bulged beneath their skin as raw strength multiplied within them.
Ethan didn’t deign to respond.
He simply maintained a gentle smile on his handsome face as he readied his blade.
Alistair had already lost this war, with or without a direct confrontation between them.
Still, Ethan was curious to test his new abilities. Without hesitation, he took a battle stance.
His eyes flashed as he activated the Burning Blood Body Enhancement Technique, followed by the Lost Crimson Blade Technique, and finally, the fifth form of the Golden Dragon Emperor’s Fencing.
The metal of his blade trembled, vibrating against the air as the power of his aura surged through every inch of steel.
Ethan drew in a deep breath, feeling his base attributes double, every fiber of his body flooding with raw power.
His gaze turned icy. Along the length of the blade, five golden dragons began to dance, their aura shrouded in crimson threads that crackled through the air like living embers.
"Five blades in one."
The moment the words left his lips, he activated the Golden Steps.
His body blurred into a streak of light, the ground beneath his feet cracking and splintering from the sheer force of his thrust.
Alistair, who only moments earlier had been staring at Ethan with a face full of confidence, froze.
An icy chill crawled down his spine, a pure, murderous intent piercing straight to the marrow of his bones.
What the hell was that? Why was he so damn fast?
Alistair’s eyes widened in horror as Ethan soared over the entire formation, the thrust aimed directly at his chest.
For a single breath, despair gripped Alistair’s heart and he hastily raised his blade to parry the blow.
A bluish barrier sprang to life around his body, forming a shimmering dome of light.
"A defensive artifact? It doesn’t matter!" Ethan roared, his sword slamming down on the barrier with a deafening boom.
Every soldier below the second stage within a two-meter radius was reduced to mincemeat in an instant, their bodies shredded into a rain of blood and shattered bone.
Hundreds of invisible cuts tore through the air around Ethan as he pressed harder and harder against the barrier.
"You damn son of a bitch! Where did you get so much power?!" Alistair spat, seething as he felt the barrier around him quiver dangerously.
The shield was going to give way soon. He knew it.
With a fierce growl, Alistair braced his stance, eyes flashing with murderous intent as he gathered every ounce of strength for a counterattack of his own.
Unfortunately for him, Ethan was far from an ordinary third-stage warrior.
With a sharp, splintering crack, the barrier around Alistair shattered into nothing.
The very instant his blade collided with Ethan’s, he realized just how immense the abyss between them truly was.
It was like striking a wall of reinforced steel.
Alistair’s sword shattered into thousands of tiny, glittering fragments, and the bones in his arm snapped one after another with sickening cracks.
Ethan paused in midair, drove his sword downward, then whipped it back up in a upward arc, executing the moonclaw severance.
"M-master! Save—" Alistair didn’t even have time to finish his plea.
Following Ethan’s sword, three colossal golden claws materialized in the air, tearing through Alistair in a single devastating sweep before continuing on their path of destruction, mowing down hundreds of soldiers along their trajectory.
At that very moment, just as Ethan was preparing to claim victory, he froze.
His body stiffened like stone. An immense pressure crashed down upon him, crushing the air itself into a suffocating weight.
[You are being watched by Azrel, demon of cruelty.]
[You are terrified.
You resisted the adverse effect.]
Ethan’s eyes narrowed instantly, scanning his surroundings.
The world had plunged into pitch black. The entire battlefield was shrouded in an impenetrable veil of shadow, leaving him with mere inches of vision around him.
He recalled Alistair’s last words.
The bastard had called out for a master. Could it be that this so-called master was a demon?