The Werewolf Lord halted mid-motion; however, his crimson eyes snapped toward the center of the altar.

The Devil was also stopped, and just like the Werewolf lord, his burning eyes flickering faintly as he stared in the same direction as a figure materialized out of thin air.

White light shimmered, forming into the shape of a tall man dressed in black robes lined with gold.

Azzy looked completely unfazed by the devastation around him, with his hands folded behind his back.

"Hmm… let's put this away first."

With a tap on the floor, he turned into a blur and reappeared right between the two attacks and then stretched his arm widely before resuming the time.

All of a sudden, the spectators saw that both attacks struck something but didn't generate any explosion. Instead, they saw a single being floating in mid-air, strangely looking like Azrael before his demonic transformation.

"W–Who is that…?" Celia whispered. Her voice trembled as her knees gave way under realization. "That's not a mere expert…"

Cyro's face went pale, every instinct screaming. "No… that's a Demigod."

The Werewolf Lord leaped backward immediately, with his instincts roaring in alarm. His fur bristled. "A Demigod!" he snarled, laced with fury and fear. "What is a being like you doing in this mortal realm?"

Azzy turned his gaze toward him. For a moment, silence stretched as if the world itself was listening.

Azzy finally spoke calmly, yet carrying the weight of judgment. "I'll deal with you later," he said simply.

Then, he turned his head slightly, his eyes falling upon the Devil. "But before that…"

The words hadn't even finished leaving his lips when the Devil moved in a blur of darkness, taking the initiative to attack.

Wrapped in black lightning and demonic energy, a fist came flying straight at Azzy's face, at supersonic speed.

BOOOOOOM!

The impact never landed.

Azzy raised one hand and opened his palm, and stopped it.

A wave of invisible force expanded outward by the collision, but before it crossed his grip, Azzy closed his palm and caught the devil's fist, crushing all the force in his palm.

The Devil's fist trembled in Azzy's grip. His lightning surged to attack his enemy, but Azzy didn't even flinch.

For a brief second, they just stared at each other before Azzy's eyes narrowed slightly. "Your soul energy…" he murmured. "It's quite familiar."

He tilted his head, studying the transformed youth before him. "Who are you?"

The Devil didn't answer.

Instead, his eyes flashed scarlet, and a black beam of condensed demonic energy erupted from one of his horns.

SHRRRRAAAAK!

Azzy, however, vanished in that microsecond before it reached him.

The beam tore through the space where he stood, vaporizing the stone floor and blowing a hole through the temple wall behind him, sending chunks of debris flying around.

When the dust cleared, Azzy reappeared several meters away — completely unharmed. His robe wasn't even wrinkled.

The Werewolf Lord growled lowly with his tail whipping behind him. "He dodged that… effortlessly."

Azzy brushed off a speck of dust from his sleeve and glanced between the Devil and the Werewolf Lord.

And then the Devil tilted his head and let out a low chuckle. His demonic voice echoed strangely in the vast, shattered chamber, both mocking and strangely familiar.

"I didn't expect you to come after me, Brother," he said, his tone carrying an odd, amused venom. The corners of his lips curled into a smirk all of a sudden, revealing rows of jagged teeth.

Azzy didn't respond. He just observed him calmly.

The Devil then raised a clawed hand and tapped his chest lightly, right where his heart would be. "Haha… Sorry. We're not exactly siblings, are we? Considering the one I possessed was this guy…" He pointed to himself.

The Devil's scarlet eyes glimmered. "And it also looks like you have a better life in this reality. You became a transcendent at such a young age. I guess you have trained there at Elysia…" He tilted his head, his smirk widening. "But too bad — you're going to die…"

Azzy's brow furrowed slightly. "This reality?

His eyes narrowed in subtle confusion. "Reality?" he repeated softly, as if tasting the word.

For a brief moment, his composure wavered. The term wasn't random — it carried weight.

But his expression soon returned to its usual calm as there were others.

Azzy then said firmly, "I'm afraid you're coming with me, demon. I have questions to ask you."

The Devil laughed, his laughter booming like thunder, shaking what remained of the temple. "You must be filled with so much confidence, Brother," he said mockingly, eyes burning like molten stars. "Because you entered this realm at such a young age, you think you can command me?"

Azzy raised one hand slightly. His voice was quiet, almost a whisper.

"Stop."

And the world obeyed.

In an instant — everything froze once again.

The flickering lightning halted midair.

The rolling waves above turned to still glass.

The echoes of destruction died mid-sound.

Every single thing — down to the smallest grain of dust — stood motionless.

Everyone except four. The Werewolf Lord, his eyes wide with panic, found his body locked in place but his mind racing. Cyro, too, realized something was wrong — his breath stopped mid-motion, but his consciousness still intact.

The Devil, his claws inches from striking, could only move his eyes, darting back and forth in fury.

And Azzy, untouched by time, moved freely — walking through the frozen storm like a ghost.

His boots echoed softly as he walked forward, each step deliberate. His hands remained calmly clasped behind his back as he approached the immobilized Devil, whose black lightning hung in the air around him like frozen veins of glass.

The Devil's glowing eyes followed him with pure rage, every bit of his immense power useless. However, nothing could come out of his mouth.

Azzy stopped just before him. For a few seconds, he simply studied the creature

Up close, he could feel it, the familiarity of the soul energy, and yet he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

"As I said earlier," Azzy then murmured, "I have questions for you, demon."

He slowly extended his hand, resting his palm over the Devil's chest.

The moment his fingers touched the corrupted flesh, faint ripples of energy spread across the demon's form.

"And," Azzy continued, his tone lowering, "you're going to comply with them — whether you like it or not."

The Devil's eyes glowed brighter in defiance. But it was of no use.

Azzy's gaze dropped slightly, noticing the object clutched tightly in the Devil's left hand. A small, ornate music box, its surface cracked and pulsing with alternating waves of divinity and curse.

Azzy frowned, his mind quickly assessing it. "So this is the cursed music box, I presume? he murmured. "The Olympians' Treasure."

With a flick of his wrist, he pulled the Music Box of Semele free from the Devil's hand. The Devil's eyes flared in fury. He tried to move, but Azzy had already shifted his hand mid-air, summoning an hourglass.

"Soul skill: Time Prison.

His voice echoed like a divine command.

In an instant, a sphere of translucent energy enveloped the Devil — a rippling, glass-like dome that sealed him completely. Within that sphere, time itself ceased.

The demonic lightning that had been flickering across his skin froze mid-motion, suspended in eerie stillness. His body turned motionless.

But his eyes… his eyes still moved.

They darted slowly from side to side, wide with fury and horror, forced to witness the flow of time beyond his prison — to watch everything continue, while he himself remained trapped in an eternal second.

Outside the bubble, the world resumed.

The air rushed back. The crackling of lightning returned. Dust drifted lazily through the air.

The silence, however, remained — thick and crushing as all eyes turned toward Azzy.

He stood there, the cursed music box glowing faintly in his hand. Then, slowly, his gaze shifted — falling upon the Werewolf Lord.

The towering beast stood several meters away, but his body was involuntarily trembling despite the fact that his mind was strong.

"You…" he snarled, voice cracking with both fear and rage, "You are a demigod! You have no right to interfere in mortal affairs!" His claws dug into the stone floor, cracking it under his grip. "You cannot come into my home, into my world, and kill me? Gaia herself will punish you for breaking the laws set by the heavens…"

Azzy tilted his head, completely unbothered by the outburst. His tone was calm as he replied…

"I have no intention of killing you," he replied simply. "That is not my purpose here."