A century had passed since Cazael was summoned, and now, as the incantations echoed through the darkened chamber, he emerged with a menacing grace.

The summoning circle you had painstakingly crafted with your own blood was aglow with an eerie, crimson light, its ancient symbols pulsating as if alive.

The air crackled with a palpable tension as Cazael materialized within the circle.

His grin was predatory, and in the dim light, his sharp fangs glistened like ivory daggers. His red eyes, glowing with an infernal intensity, pierced through the darkness, hinting at the power and malevolence contained within. The curve of his horns, partially obscured by the shadow of his hood, added to his formidable and otherworldly presence.

Cazael stretched lazily, the movement exuding both arrogance and an unsettling ease. His chuckle was dark and cold, reverberating through the chamber like a sinister whisper of the past.

"It's good to be back," he said, his voice smooth and chilling.