Library
Search
Home / Urban / AZRAEL / Recruitment of the Exiled
Recruitment of the Exiled
Author: JESpears
last update2025-10-05 05:51:38

The smoke hadn't cleared from the funeral pyres when they came.

Azrael stood on the cracked balcony, watching the ash spiral upward into the pre-dawn sky. Four bodies reduced to embers. Thirty refugees vanished into the city's uncertain mercy. His Dominion felt smaller somehow, the walls pressing inward with each loss.

Movement caught his eye—figures approaching the eastern barrier. Not the rushed, desperate flight of refugees, but the measured stride of those who'd made their choice long before reaching his gates.

He was moving before conscious thought, wings spreading as he dropped into the courtyard. The Forsaken guards had already taken defensive positions, flame-wreathed weapons trained on the approaching group.

Five figures stood at the barrier's edge. Three bore the unmistakable bearing of angels—straight-backed, radiating controlled power even in their battered state. The other two carried themselves with the predatory grace of demons, though their movements held none of the u
Continue to read this book for free
Scan the code to download the app
Previous ChapterNext Chapter

Latest Chapter

  • Trial of Fire and Fang

    The arena floor blazed white-hot, centuries of accumulated death igniting into inferno that made breathing feel like inhaling molten glass.Azrael's Black Flame responded immediately, creating protective barrier around him. But this wasn't like deflecting attacks or consuming divine judgment. This was environmental. Constant. The entire arena had become oven designed to cook anything inside it slowly, thoroughly, completely."Second trial is endurance," the Demon King called from his safe position at the arena's edge. "You changed the terms of the first trial beautifully. Made strength irrelevant. But endurance doesn't care about philosophy. It just measures how long you can persist when existence itself hurts."The temperature continued rising. Azrael felt it through his protective barrier—the Black Flame was holding, but burning energy at unsustainable rate. Every second cost him. Every moment of survival depleting reserves he'd need for whatever came after.In the observation deck,

  • Arena of the Damned

    The Demon King stepped fully into the arena, and the temperature rose twenty degrees instantly. Not from fire—from his mere presence. Reality adjusting to accommodate something that predated current cosmic order."You're wondering why I called you here," he said, circling slowly. "Why formal challenge instead of simple assassination. Why honor your rebellion with this display."Azrael kept the Black Flame ready but didn't attack. Something about the Demon King's stance suggested this was still preamble. Still setup before actual combat."The answer is simple," the Demon King continued, his voice carrying to every demon in the stands. To every chained gladiator. To the strike team watching from their designated position. "You're valuable. Too valuable to simply destroy. Too dangerous to leave unclaimed. So I offer what I offer no one: choice."He stopped pacing, facing Azrael directly."Survive my trials—prove your strength is more than legend—and I'll kneel the Underworld to you. Make

  • Descent into Inferno

    The three days passed like accelerated entropy.The Baptized fortified the cathedral ruins, knowing it wouldn't matter. Treated wounded, knowing they'd never fully heal before the next crisis. Trained combat drills, knowing they were preparing for a fight their leader would face alone.Azrael spent the time studying the challenge scroll's details. The Arena of Bone and Ash—formal combat ground where the Demon King settled disputes with rivals who earned his attention. The rules were surprisingly straightforward. Single combat until surrender or death. No outside interference. Victory recognized by all Underworld hierarchy."I'm coming with you," Maya said on the second night. Not asking. Stating."The challenge specifies—""Single combat in the arena, yes. Doesn't say you have to travel alone. Doesn't say you can't bring witnesses." She met his eyes. "You think I'm letting you walk into the Underworld without someone watching your back during the approach?""She's right," Sariel added

  • Shadows Stirring

    The first sign came three days after Metatron's retreat.Azrael woke in the parking structure to find a symbol burned into the concrete beside where he'd been sleeping. Not carved or painted—burned. Demonic script that still smoked faintly, spelling out a message in the Underworld's trade language:WE WATCH"What is that?" Maya asked, approaching with morning rations. She saw the symbol and stopped. "That wasn't there last night.""No." Azrael studied the script, feeling residual essence clinging to it. "Someone passed through our defenses without triggering alarms. Got close enough to leave a message. Could have killed me if they wanted.""But didn't.""Because they want me to know they could have. Want me aware of their presence." He touched the symbol and felt power respond—definitely infernal, but sophisticated. High-level demon work. "This isn't random warlord posturing. This is official."Sariel appeared, already armed despite the early hour. "We found three more. One in the foo

  • The First Throne Falls

    The news reached the Underworld within hours of Metatron's retreat.Not through official channels—demons didn't maintain diplomatic relations with the Otherworld. But through the same mortal networks spreading Azrael's legend. Through scouts who'd witnessed the battle from safe distances. Through the cosmic ripples that occurred when the Voice of the Goddess was broken by someone neither realm had properly accounted for.In the Infernal Citadel, the Demon King's throne room erupted with savage celebration."Metatron fell," one of the warlords roared, his voice shaking obsidian walls. "The Voice of the Goddess herself, broken by a single opponent! The Otherworld's humiliation is absolute!"Laughter rolled through assembled demons. Centuries of cold war with the angels, millennia of careful positioning and territorial disputes—all of it vindicated by this single impossible outcome. The Otherworld wasn't invulnerable. Its champions could be defeated. Its authority could be challenged."W

  • Forsaken Flame Proclaimed

    The news spread like wildfire across Earth's networks.First through military channels—governments that had been tracking supernatural incidents suddenly reporting that an angelic army had withdrawn in defeat. Then through survivor accounts. Mortals who'd witnessed the crater, the explosion, the impossible duel between seraph and something that transcended categorization.Within hours, the story mutated. Grew. Transformed in the telling.A fallen angel had stood against Heaven's champion. Had survived mutual destruction. Had broken the Voice of the Goddess herself and sent the celestial armies fleeing.Within a day, the details became legend.The Forsaken Flame—some called him savior, others called him demon, but everyone called him something—had proven mortals could stand against divine authority. Had shown that Earth wasn't just battlefield for realm politics. That humanity had a protector willing to burn the heavens themselves if necessary.The Baptized felt it before they saw it.

More Chapter

You may also like

Explore and read good novels for free
Free access to a vast number of good novels on MegaNovel app. Download the books you like and read anywhere & anytime.
Read books for free on the app
Scan code to read on App