Chapter 475 An old tale II

Chapter 475 An old tale II

The blessed race — Azazeal remember that's what everyone called them.

It was a race that naturally held supreme authority throughout the universe because all of its members possessed something celestial within their bodies from birth.

The people of that race bore a human appearance but possessed a pair of unique eyes that set them apart from humans. No matter the eye color, there would always be two slits in the center of their pupils.

Moreover, within that race, almost everyone had the potential to achieve the celestial rank because of their natural gift and exceptional talent.

However, due to this distinctiveness, the population of the race was always small, typically not exceeding a hundred members.

And even if the numbers somehow exceeded a hundred, the elder individuals would leave the universe as soon as they attained the celestial rank to avoid disrupting the balance of power.

Azazeal blinked as the obsidian in his pupils began to shift away, unveiling the two purple slits within. Instantly, a mocking gleam flashed through his eyes.

"The most powerful race, huh?"

He thought about the tale he shared with Kyle just moments ago. It revolved around the same blessed race that was ordinary yet so powerful at the same time.

The survivor in that story was one of the youngest members of that very race. A young kid, barely nine years old, whose mother hid him inside a separate space to protect him from the people who came to slay their entire race. The very race they themselves called blessed?

Yet, he remained silent even as the air around him grew suffocating... just as his mother had instructed him to do... Aze, you must stay quiet. Do not make a sound. The sky darkened even further, turning a deep red, almost as if mourning the blessed beings who perished beneath it.

He didn't know how many days or weeks had passed when the curtains around him finally began to break, and he collapsed on the ground, gazing at the remnants of what was once his home.

The kid wandered among the ruins, looking at the clear sky, hungry, with clothes that had become soiled with sweat from his time in that confined space. Only a few words managed to escape his parched throat that had turned so dry that it was difficult to even speak.

"Is it... finally over?"

After gazing at the broken land one final time, he started walking with a blank mind, filled only with the cries and sights he had witnessed while hiding inside the separate space, just like a useless person.

He walked and walked until his legs gave out because he wanted to go to a faraway place where the air wasn't filled with the suffocating stench of blood. But then he noticed a teleportation array drawn in the middle of the ruins, undoubtedly by the people who killed his race.

Having started learning at a young age, he managed to activate the array with hands that were trembling, even though his body contained not even a speck of mana as he had not yet awakened his talent.

His empty stomach twisted with pain as he used the array, only to drop to his knees the moment he arrived in a different place. But when he raised his head, he saw a bustling area that was completely different from the nightmare he had just left behind.

The remaining brightness in his eyes started to fade, and the two slits in his pupils vanished into the obsidian color when a few people gathered around him with concerned expressions to ask about his identity and why a child was present there, or if he was okay.

He willingly lifted his head so they all could identify him after seeing his eyes and end his life, just like all the others.

But at that exact moment, when he locked eyes with the person closest to him... he realized that his blessing was different from all the others, and it knew how to hide itself when threatened.