God Ash: Remnants of the fallen.

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Seated at the peak of a tall mountain in the Eastern continent of Prometheus, the demon who's name is Azazel had his eyes fixed on a battle between mortal and god.

How mundane the mortal was, and how divine this god was, was still up for debate, but the participants of the batyles coild be described as such.

It was an interesting battle, but it was reaching its climax.

Azazel sighed,

"So it's about to end. No, this is just the beginning..."

He looked up at the sky.

Because of its location in the Hell realms, Prometheus' atmosphere was very heavy, with a high mana concentration. Because of the enchantments he had placed on it, however, it was practically impossible for beings weaker than Tier 3 to use mana without his permission.

The skies had been muddy brown for a long time, perhaps a few thousand years.

But today...

Today, they were a deep shade of crimson.

It was like a river of blood had ascended into the sky.

He looked back down at the battle, his expression a mixture of relief, fear, and excitement.

"How interesting, how fascinating..."

The giant spectre of death floating right above the mountains recoiled back in shock,

"What is this?! How is this happening?!" It screeched in blinding rage.

There, in the mounta range flooded with flowing black sands, a new creature had appeared.

It looked nothing like the mortal that had been there just a few minutes ago.

Scales that shone and glittered like gold, but were as black as pitch with glowing crimson runes and cracks all over its body.

A large humanoid frame that made it almost as large as the specter. A pair of fleshly wings that protruded out of its back, a long, girthy tail that seemed capable of coiling around a small mountain, as well as huge limbs with razor sharp claws that looked like they could tear the world itself apart with enough force.

And of course, twisted horns that protruded out of the draconic being's temples to form a profane crown that sat on its head.

With one look, it was obvious something had changed over the past few minutes.

But the terrifying Black Dragon was not the most terrifying thing down there.

No, what made Azazel shudder a bit was what the Black Dragon was doing.

It had ignored the specter of death floating above its head.

Instead, it opened its large, abyssal maw...

And was consuming the black sands of death summoned by the specter.

"A being that can consume death. Ha... What the hell have I gotten myself into?"

It should have been impossible, but there proof was right in front of him.

The nature of that strange energy, was to consume.

However, there should have been limitations to its appetite.

Azazel chuckled wryly,

"Apparently not."

Like an insatiable beast, the dragon continued to suck in the black sands, until Balangol finally snapped out of it.

With a wave of his scythe, the black sands rose back into the sky to swirl around him. Only, the volume of the sand had drastically reduced.

Seeing that its meal was rudely ripped away from its mouth, the Black Dragon finally turned its sights to the sky and roared furiously at the specter.

Its roar was filled with madness, burning killing intent, and boundless malice.

It was as though this being, this Creature's only purpose was to kill and consume.

With a single flap of its wings, the Dragon soared into the skies, shooting straight at the god.

"Hmph!" With a snort, Balangol cut down.

The power of the scythe shot down and smashed into the body of the Black dragon.

It was immediately cut in half and it fell back down towards the mountains.

"At the end of the day, it doesn't matter. Despite how weak this body is, it is still has the power of a Tier 3 being. It is an impossible gap to close."

Just a second later, the Celestial was shockef for the second time in a minute, as the moment the severed parts of the Black Dragon hit the ground, it began healing.

Tendrils of viscous blackness, much different in hue to the black sands, but not at all less intimidating, shot out of the two cut parts.

They pulsed with a faint crimson as they pulled the two parts together.

A mere second later, the Black Dragon stood back to its feet and shrugged.

It was as though it had not taken any damage at all.

Balangol was silent for a moment.

Then he dove down into the mountain range and struck.

The nearby mountains were reduced to dust instantly, and the crushed, mangles body of the Black Dragon shot out into the air from the resulting dust cloud.

Balangol followed closely, his scythe swinging down again, cutting off one of the dragon's wings.

The dragon responded by biting down on the Balangol's army.

"Although I haven't recovered fully, your teeth cannot harm me, rabid beast!"

The body he had taken possessed physical form, but to him, that was just a vessel. In actuality, when he assumed this form, he was less fleshy body, and more spirit and soul than anything else.

As such, most physical attacks would have no effect on him.

And yet, the Celestial was proven wrong just a second later.

CRACK!

The sound of bones snapping could be heard as the dragon jerked its head back, snapping and pulling off his entire forearm.

For what felt like the first time in eons, Balangol experienced pain.

And he was immediately consumed by fear, terror, but kist importantly, rage.

The Celestial let out a mad scream as he let go of his scythe momentarily and stabbed his blackened claws into the dragon's chest.

A tremendous amount of mana gathered at his fingertips and the body of the dragon explodes into fragments that fell towards the ground.

And yet, as the bloody pieces fell, they were dragged together by the only black tendrils that pulsed with a crimson glow.

Before its body could hit the ground, the Black Dragon spread its wings again and soared into the sky, its eyes red with rage and hunger.

Balangol took that moment to inspect the damage.

'My body was harmed... No, not just my body. My spirit and soul were also harmed just now.'

An attack that could affect both spirit, soul, and body. The power was quite similar to the effects of Kalistik, but it was also different, yet just as terrifying, or perhaps even more.

Because whatever this strange power was, it could consume the black sands.

'It can consume death.'

Under normal circumstances, he battle should have ended the very first time he slashed the dragon in two.

But it just refused to die. No matter how many times he beat it, ripped it apart, or smashed it open, it just reduced to die.

Its regenerative capabilities were not just abnormal. They should have been impossible.

With his power, he possessed enough power to sink a portion of the entire continent they stood on into the waters below.

And yet, he couldn't kill a single annoying worm.

"Nonsense!"

He refused, rejected that thought with all his Divine will.

"What arrant rubbish! There is nothing I cannot kill! There is no being whose soul cannot be reaped by my scythe!"

For the very first time, resplendent light shone from Balangol's newly regrown hand, and a scepter appeared.

The scepter was absolutely glorious and beautiful. It looked to be made of some special metal, far superior to mere gold. It was inlaid with several colorful gems, but the most noticable one, was a giant translucent orb-like Gen inlaid on its head.

Aridrys, the weapon that signified Balangol's dominion over the element of Sands.

Calling it sand was purely figurative. Rather than the sand that signified the earth element, it was more of a concept of degradation.

Of having life slowly dwindle away.

The power to create a wasteland, or to suck life away, and turn everything imto a plave where only death could exist.

With a wave of the scepter, hundreds of giant magic circles appeared in the sky, and from them poured forth a seemingly infinite amount of white sand.

The moment the sand hit the ground, it changed color and turned black, influenced by the power of Kalistik.

If one met a seemingly unbreakable for, a reasonable conclusion to draw, would simply be to hit until the threshold was found, because unbreakable does not exist.

And that was what Balangol planned to do.

Overwhelm with sheer power. Nothing could defeat sheer power. No tactics, no plans, no techniques, nothing at all, could stand against true power.

And power was what he possessed in abundance...

As a Celestial Deity, power was one thing he could never lack, and it was his sharpest weapon.

This power came forth in the form of blackened sand that reeked of death.

And they came crashing down on the black dragon.

They bound its wings, stabbed through its heart, tore its flesh, and broke its bones over and over and over again.

But each time its flesh got ripped apart, each time its bones got broken, when they were healed back, they grew stronger, and far more resilient, making even hard to destroy the next time.

And even as all this happened, the dragon continued to gorge itself with the black sand, its mouth like a whirlpool of nothingness that knew only to consume.

Slowly, but surely, the Celestial, Balangol, began to fall into a panic.

Although it had a lot of power, in this body, that power was not infinite. It was going to run out sooner or later, and yet, it couldn't kill this damned thing.

What was even worse, was that the Black Dragon wasn't getting any weaker.

If anything, with the more black sand it consumed, the stronger it became.

It also became bigger. They now stood at the same height.

He could feel its hunger and bloodlust bearing down on him.

Fear gripped his heart once again.

A deep, despairing fear that only filled him with even more rage.

Again, the tides of black sand rose to the skies and crashed down once more.

The battle had reached its climax...