Having vanquished the battered shades, the Deathless stayed back as Azarax marched across the desert toward Sunny.
It seemed that even consumed by the curse of Shadow God, the Plague of Steel remained true to his nature. He didn't want to kill Sunny… he wanted to defeat him, trample upon him, and therefore make him a vassal. To add the Lord of Shadows to his ever-growing army.
Sunny took another step back and forced out a smile.
"You know! There are a myriad of Great abominations barreling this way right this moment. If you are so tough, why don't you try subjugating them, instead?"
Azarax did not respond — was incapable of responding anymore — and simply continued forward with heavy, confident steps.
Suspended inside the glass carapace, his black skull wore a menacing grin.
Sunny cursed.
"I guess not."
He stopped backing away and remained motionless for a moment, his head lowered, glaring at Azarax with angry contempt.
