Chapter 46

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Eren's crew gathered, tension simmering in the air as they prepared for the inevitable confrontation with Azrael. The note was unmistakable—a challenge, not just for Eren, but a dare against everything he'd built in defiance of the tyrant's grip on Ezura's underworld.

They'd crippled Azrael's reach, fractured his control, and sent him into an exposed fury. Now, Eren would deliver the final blow. Every decision led to this night, a reckoning years in the making.

---

Word spread through Ezura like a spark igniting dry wood. Shopkeepers and street vendors whispered rumors, thieves shared glances over their shoulders, and Azrael's loyalists clutched their weapons tighter, anxiously watching for the fight they all knew was coming.

Eren moved through the streets cloaked in shadows, feeling the anticipation ripple through the city. He moved with purpose, aware of the silent figures watching from the corners, potential allies and wary spies alike.

In a secluded alley, he met Alaric and Renna, who waited with wary expressions.

"It's time," Eren said, voice as cold and sharp as a blade. "Azrael wants to make a spectacle of this. Fine. We'll make it his last."

Alaric nodded, his face set with a grim determination. "The men are ready. They know what's at stake."

Renna clenched her fists, her gaze dark. "We've bled for this, Eren. Tonight, we end it."

---

The chosen meeting place was an old warehouse district on the city's edge, long abandoned and shrouded in decay. It was the perfect battleground for Azrael—a place of bleakness and fear, steeped in memories of his brutal control over the city.

Eren's crew moved into position, silent shadows slipping between crumbling walls and rusted iron beams. Alaric and Renna took their squads, flanking the entrances, ready to cut off any escape. Eren waited alone at the center of the space, every sense sharpened, every nerve attuned to the tension simmering in the silence.

When Azrael arrived, he stepped into the moonlit warehouse flanked by his most loyal guards. He moved with his signature swagger, though his eyes carried a spark of fury barely contained. The scars on his face caught the dim light, painting him in a grim silhouette—a man who thrived on fear and violence.

Azrael's mouth twisted into a sneer as he looked Eren up and down. "So, you're the thorn that's been in my side all this time. A ghost turned warrior, whispering rebellion in the ears of my own people."

Eren's eyes narrowed, calm and resolute. "Your reign is built on threats and blood. But you've ruled with fear for too long, and now your city is turning on you."

Azrael laughed, the sound echoing hollowly through the warehouse. "You think they'd follow you? A shadow in the night, a mere spark that I'll snuff out right here."

Eren felt the familiar pull of his magic, power thrumming under his skin as he spoke. "You've mistaken fear for loyalty, Azrael. But tonight, you'll learn that loyalty born of strength can't be bought or broken."

---

The fight erupted like thunder. Azrael lunged, his fists charged with raw, brutal energy, while Eren's magic wove through the air, forming barriers and attacks with lethal precision.

They clashed, Azrael's blows crackling with dark energy, each swing fueled by years of anger and control. Eren's magic wrapped around him like armor, each strike he blocked sending a shockwave of force across the warehouse floor.

The air thickened with the weight of their power. Eren was faster, his movements calculated, each spell a precise strike meant to wear down Azrael's brutal offense. But Azrael was relentless, each blow designed to crush, to destroy.

Eren saw his opening, channeling every ounce of his energy into a single, focused attack. Shadows coiled around him, his magic darkening, sharpening into a blade as he plunged forward. Azrael staggered back, the blade grazing his chest, his sneer faltering.

"You can't win," Azrael spat, blood staining his lips. But his eyes held something new—doubt.

"I already have," Eren replied coldly, his voice like ice. "This city is done with you."

---

With one final surge, Eren unleashed his power, shadows entwining with magic as he struck Azrael down, his attack precise and unyielding. Azrael's defenses shattered, his body collapsing under the force of Eren's strike. He fell to his knees, gasping, his once-unbreakable presence crumbling in defeat.

Eren loomed over him, his expression a mask of calm. He felt the familiar pull of compassion rise up—an echo of who he'd once been. But he pushed it down, knowing mercy had no place here.

Azrael looked up at him, his gaze fading, resignation etched in his features. "They'll never follow you. Fear will always rule."

Eren shook his head. "Not my kind of fear."

With that, he struck the final blow, a swift, merciful end. Azrael's body crumpled, the weight of his rule gone in an instant, his reign extinguished like a dying flame.

---

As dawn broke over Ezura, whispers spread through the streets. Azrael was dead, his fortress taken, his control shattered. The people of Ezura stepped into the light of a new day, unsure but unchained.

Eren and his allies stood together, watching the sun rise over the city. The battle was over, but the work had only begun.

"This is just the beginning," Eren said, his voice low but steady. "We have a city to rebuild—a new order to shape."

Renna and Alaric exchanged glances, resolve gleaming in their eyes. They were ready, their loyalty unwavering.

And as they turned to face the city, Eren knew that his path was set, his place solidified. He would become more than a shadow, more than a whisper in the dark. He would be a force—a leader forged in darkness, bound to the city he'd claimed as his own.

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