Azerak stared at the drop of blood.
It pulsed faintly now, as if responding to him. Slowly, he stretched out his hand.
The blood floated from Alayot's palm and sank directly into Azerak's body.
"Argh...!"
Azerak groaned, overwhelmed by the pain. His divine cells were being obliterated, torn apart and replaced by new, incomprehensibly potent ones. His bones, already golden and dense, were now covered in darkness, reforged into something even harder.
This… this blood…
A being who had lived since the early days of this multiverse was stunned. Now that he was in direct contact with it, there was no doubt this blood was divine. And more than that…
It's not from this multiverse... Then where is this race from?
Just as Azerak's mind wrestled with the pain, a vision struck him.
