Chapter 757 Silent Resurgence

Chapter 757 Silent Resurgence

"W-wha . . . what are you doing?! How can you move in my domain?" Desira asked in incredulously.

Ren and the others, their health dangerously low, could only watch in suspense as Azazel faced Desira head-on.

The air hung heavy with anticipation, the mist seeming to hold its breath, and the outcome of this unexpected confrontation remained uncertain.

"Have you forgotten, Desira?" Azazel inquired with a gravity that cut through the chaos. "I am the Demon Lord, and the corruption was initially mine. Even if I don't wield my full power, your domain won't exert control over me."

"What?" Lorelai expressed her bewilderment. "If he could do that from the start, he should have just shattered the prison and we could have escaped. Or better yet, he should have shatter this domain."

"It's not as simple as it sounds," Vivi clarified. "The truth is, it took a considerable toll on Lord Azazel just to resist Desira's domain. He doesn't even possess one-third of his full power yet. What he's employing is the corruption he acquired from me to counter Desira's influence, but utilizing those powers would only accelerate his corruption and taint his mind."Explore the genesis of this content at nov@lbin

On the sidelines, Ren silently observed the unfolding situation. His earlier intuition about Azazel being the linchpin of this Story Arc was proving true, emphasizing the importance of ensuring Azazel's survival as their top priority now.

Ren recognized the collective powerlessness of their group against the Warlords in the Netherworld, hindered by both the domain and corruption they faced.

The responsibility of navigating through this perilous situation rested squarely on Azazel's shoulders. It was up to him to find a resolution with his Warlords and untangle the complexities of their predicament.

Desira scoffed at Azazel. "Ha! You're bluffing! I know you're at your limit! This is the end, Azazel!"

As Desira's frustration and anger intensified, she summoned all the dark energies at her disposal, tapping into the very essence of the Netherworld.

Her eyes glowed with an eerie intensity as she focused on increasing her magic, the very air around her pulsating with an ominous energy.

With a commanding gesture, Desira unleashed a torrent of spells, dark and chaotic, hoping to quell Azazel's advance.

The magical onslaught was relentless, with beams of ethereal energy erupting from her outstretched hands like a malevolent dance of spectral serpents. Each spell carried the weight of her anguish and unrequited feelings, seeking to consume anything in its path.

However, as the spells hurtled towards Azazel, an invisible barrier seemed to envelop him. The dark magic splintered and dissipated upon contact with an imperceptible shield, leaving Azazel untouched.

Desperation etched across Desira's face as she realized the futility of her relentless magical assaults. Her dark spells, infused with the anguish of unrequited feelings, seemed to pass through Azazel as if he were an insubstantial specter.

Panic seized her, and she frantically screamed, "Stay back! Stay back!"

However, Azazel defied her plea, advancing with an unsettling calmness.

Desira's futile attempts to push him away with her magical forces only intensified the oppressive atmosphere.

The air was thick with dark energy as if protesting against Azazel's intrusion.

Before Desira could comprehend what was happening, Azazel was standing right in front of her, his sudden proximity catching her off guard.

A surge of dark fog and oppressive mist erupted from the very spot where he stood, engulfing the immediate surroundings.

The mist twisted and coiled in an otherworldly dance, forming an impenetrable shroud that surrounded Desira.

The tempest of magical forces intensified, causing Desira to close her eyes, bracing for the impending onslaught from Azazel.

The oppressive mist pressed against her, creating an ominous silence that hung in the air.

Desira's heart pounded in her chest as she awaited the inevitable strike.

As the seconds stretched in suspense, Desira cautiously opened her eyes, half-expecting devastation.

To her surprise, the scene before her was not one of destruction but of profound transformation. The mist and fog, instead of heralding a destructive force, began to dissipate, revealing Azazel standing there with an outstretched hand.

Azazel's signature grin had returned to his face, a peculiar blend of mischief and empathy.

The once oppressive atmosphere now carried an enigmatic calmness as if a storm had passed, leaving behind an eerie tranquility.