Celestial Hybrid

Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Mira stood frozen, watching as Remiel effortlessly tore through her team, his movements precise and unrelenting. Her face remained blank, her eyes devoid of emotion, yet her racing heartbeat gave away her fear.

Remael, wielding a longsword forged from his divine energy, easily predicted his enemy’s moves, striking them down with brutal precision.

His eyes — The Divine Gaze of the Oracle — granted him the uncanny ability to read the flow of intent, perceiving his opponents' next moves before they made them. To him, the people around him were nothing more than tools—pawns he used to test his skills, as this was his first time wielding control over Remiel's body.

One of them lunged at him with startling speed, aiming for a fatal strike. Remael, not moving an inch, cleaved through her blades as effortlessly as a knife through bread, claiming her head in a single, fluid motion.

“Come on, kids! Make my time here worthwhile," he taunted, his voice dripping with mockery. "Show me what the warriors of the Red Dragon Tooth are truly made of.”

Mira's eyes widened as a gasp escaped her lips. "How does he know who we are?" she thought, her mind racing with questions. Who was this mysterious figure, and how did he seem to know so much about them? As she watched the battle unfold before her, a shiver ran down her spine.

The intensity of the scene was overwhelming, and Mira's thoughts swirled with confusion and fear. “f**k! If all doesn't go well I'd just use it.”

Without hesitation, the others closed in, intent on overwhelming him with sheer numbers. Remael charged forward, slicing through them with reckless abandon.

In less than a minute, he was surrounded by their remains. Their bodies lay slain on the bloodied ground as his longsword dripped with their blood.

Angels are divine beings, primarily inhabiting Caelestia. Among them, archangels — awakened angels — are forged for battle, wielding their immense power with reverence and caution. These holy entities abhor bloodshed, taking up arms only when defending their Creator or a righteous cause.

Unlike other archangels, Remael's existence is singular. Born from the lifeforce and essence of Remiel's father, he emerged as an archangel from the very beginning. This makes him the first of his kind — an archangel by birth, unregistered in the annals of Caelestia. Therefore he abides by no rules and lives only to serve his host.

“Now I feel more like Emriel.” He soliloquized, staring at the bodies around him. “Yunno I'm still here right? Emriel spoke within him “And don't pretend like you haven't noticed anything strange around you?”

Remael looked around him with a knowing look on his dazzling face. “She's performing a forbidden technique.” He said, as he turned his gaze towards Mira. “Not just any technique! She's performing the soul absorption technique! You have to stop her or else the villagers will be in grave danger.” Emriel warned

Mira knelt on the ground,eyes closed, her lips moving in a silent chant as black veins crawled across her skin like cracks in stone. A faint red aura seeped from the bodies of her fallen men, their lifeless forms dissolving as their essence flowed into her. Suddenly, dark tendrils burst from her body, writhing through the air toward the terrified villagers.

Remael stood motionless, a smirk playing on his lips as he watched the chaos unfold.

"Stop her, you winged i***t!" Emriel’s voice roared within him, filled with fury. "She's going to kill them all! Give me control—NOW!"

Before the tendrils could reach their targets, however, they slammed into an unseen barrier. The dark limbs sizzled and recoiled, burning away upon contact with the glowing shield.

“"Arrrrggg!" Mira's scream pierced the air, her voice now twisted with a dark, malevolent edge. Her eyes, glowing with a deep crimson hue, locked onto Remael with a murderous glare. "What did you do?!" she snarled.

Remael remained unfazed, his smirk unwavering.

"No wonder you didn’t act," Emriel’s voice echoed within him, laced with mockery. "You’ve finally managed to impress me." He added, eliciting a chuckle from his counterpart.

“I secretly erected a divine barrier around us before our... well, would you call it a scuffle? I just didn’t want our confrontation to endanger the innocent villagers." Remael replied. “So this was your plan all along huh?

Mira rose slowly to her feet, black veins writhing across her skin as her crimson eyes burned with a terrifying, demonic glow. Yet the figure before her stood unmoved, his calm demeanor unshaken.

"I like to assess my enemies' strength before I strike," she said coldly, her voice tinged with calculation. "And that's where my team comes in. I had to use them to gauge your power. They were nothing more than pawns from the very beginning.” She added, her voice devoid of remorse.

"So you'd sacrifice your own teammates just to fulfill your selfish goals?" Remael demanded, his voice laced with disgust and simmering anger.

Mira's shrill, wicked laughter echoed through the air, chilling to the bone. "It's all for the win," she sneered, her tone dripping with cruelty. "They were expendable, easily replaced. But now that you've ruined my plans..." Her voice dropped, cold and venomous. "I'll have to resort to this."

Without hesitation, she drove her fingers into her chest, tearing through her flesh to extract a pulsating, red-glowing orb.

"I sacrifice my essence and lifeforce as the key to unlock the gates of the dark realm. Come forth, Rodaniel, Creature of Phlegethon!" Mira's voice rang out, laced with desperation and power.

As her incantation ended, her body was engulfed in black flames, the inferno consuming the barrier that had shielded them. Remael gasped, his eyes wide as he watched Mira writhe and scream in agony, her form slowly succumbing to the flames.

"Black flames? Phlegethon? What has she done?!" he muttered to himself, his expression a mix of shock and disbelief.

Emriel’s voice echoed within him, steady yet grim. "If my memories serve me right... Rodaniel was an angel who fought in the celestial war millions of years ago. She sacrificed her soul to summon him." He paused, his tone darkening. "So tragic, really — he chose the traitors’ side."

All that was left in her place was a deep black hole and what happened next sent shivers down the spines of all who beheld it — except Remael.

From the abyss, a monstrous form began to emerge. First came clawed hands, their silver talons gleaming like blades. Then a head followed, its crimson eyes burning like embers, framed by jagged fangs that gleamed with hunger. The creature's black, scaly skin glistened like molten obsidian, and a spiked tail lashed out behind it, carving deep gouges into the earth as it fully stepped into the mortal realm. Rodoniel let out a deafening roar, the ground trembling beneath its fury as its blazing red eyes locked onto Remael.

"Well, it’s clear he doesn’t like me," Remael remarked casually, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Don’t you think he looks a little like you?" he added with a teasing edge.

"That thing looks nothing like me, you moron!" Emriel snapped, his voice sharp with irritation. "Now stop wasting time and give me control! You’ve had your fun."

Remael sighed, rolling his eyes. "Fine," he relented, his tone dripping with exaggerated reluctance. "Just… don’t cause too much destruction. There are still people around."

As he spoke, his body began to shift. His golden hair darkened, streaked with strands of white, as if the light itself was being drained from him. His once-lustrous wings blackened, their feathers shimmering faintly with an eerie sheen. Silver claws extended from his fingertips, glinting like knives, and his eyes turned a chilling blood red. He exuded dark energy and malevolence.

“"Happy now?" Remael’s voice echoed faintly from within, laced with irritation.

Emriel grinned, his sharp teeth glinting in the dim light. "Yes, I am," he replied smugly. "Total control feels very good." He stretched his hands, a dark, crackling energy swirling around him like a living storm. The energy coalesced, twisting and solidifying into the shape of a double-bladed scythe. Its blackened edges gleamed with a deadly aura, and faint whispers seemed to emanate from the weapon itself.

Emriel twirled the scythe with practiced ease, the blades slicing through the air with a sharp, menacing hum. "Let’s see how good I am with this weapon," he mused, his voice dripping with anticipation.

Turning his blood-red gaze toward Rodoniel, he pointed the scythe at the monstrous creature. "Rodaniel," Emriel said coldly, his tone filled with dark resolve, "it’s time I put you out of your misery."