The battlefield descended into a new level of frenzy. Standing amidst his trembling enemies, Saruel's voice rang out with a command that shook the very foundations of the earth: "Spare none! Show no mercy to the enemy! Annihilate them all!"
Following his decree, Saruel began to reap the bat-winged shadow-dwellers like a harvest of weeds. His movements were a blur of impossible speed; to the naked eye, there were only jagged flashes of lightning and the rhythmic rain of severed limbs. The celestial soldiers followed in his wake like a relentless tide.
Watching Saruel move with such terrifying velocity, Toram trembled, her mind still trapped in the logic of her old world. "How can a biological form withstand that momentum?" she whispered to herself. "According to the laws of physics, the sheer G-force should have shattered his skeletal structure!" Her scientific obsession refused to let go, even as her senses struggled to process the god-like feat before her.
Kaduel remained inseparable from his leader's side, a phantom of destruction shattering the dark forces in their path. Seizing a foe by the wing, Kaduel decapitated the creature with a surge of lightning, the infernal blood spraying into the air like macabre fireworks.
"Leave none standing! Annihilate them so they cannot achieve a Second Birth!" Kaduel roared, his voice thick with battle-lust. A shadow darted toward him, flickering like a ghost, but Kaduel was faster—the enemy was shredded into nothingness before it could even land a strike. On the other side of the fray, a swarm of dark angels descended upon a single warrior of light like starving ants, tearing him apart until his essence dissipated into the air like glowing mist.
Saruel paused for a heartbeat, surveying the carnage as he unleashed torrents of electricity. He began to forge a path toward the encroaching 'Shadows of Death,' his lightning blade carving a trail through the dark ranks.
Suddenly, four elite warriors, draped in ancient tattered robes and wielding blades of black fire, blocked his path. Their faces were obscured by masks of death, and a sinister, rhythmic breathing hissed behind the plumes of dark smoke rising from their eyes. Saruel knew these monsters. His eyes narrowed, crackling with electrical fury. Though he recognized their formidable power, his own was twofold. He lunged toward the four, trailing arcs of lightning behind him.
These were no ordinary soldiers. With haunting coordination, they attacked from the left, right, front, and rear. Their swords cut through the air like lashes of fire and streaks of dark light. Saruel, choosing defense over a blind charge, became an impenetrable fortress of iron.
As they swirled around him, the collision of their powers birthed a dark vortex of lightning and soot. The sheer intensity of the clashing blades threatened to melt the very atmosphere, leaving a heavy cloud of smoke suspended in the air.
Finally, Saruel's eyes ignited with a vengeful glare. His entire body began to discharge violent bolts of electricity. Suddenly, tendrils of lightning erupted from his form, coiling around the necks of all four elites at once. Desperate, they lunged at him with their blades, but Saruel flickered upward like a spark, drawing the lightning ropes tight and binding them together.
He unleashed a surge of millions of gigavolts directly into their bodies. Their internal structures fractured under the thermal load; molten embers spilled from their ruptured carapaces until their bones splintered and their forms detonated in a blinding flash.
Kaduel looked up just as the lightning vortex exploded with celestial brilliance. Friend and foe alike froze for a second, blinded by the light. As the four elites fell in charred fragments, Saruel descended, landing heavily on the cracked earth. He stood on one wing, his breathing ragged and his body severely wounded. Yet, the victory was his. He knelt, leaning on his sword to keep from collapsing, as the remains of the dark angels melted into bubbling black sludge.
"Commander!" Kaduel cried out, rushing to Saruel's side. A thick, milky fluid—the blood of lightning—flowed from Saruel's shattered wing. Kaduel hoisted the wounded god onto his shoulder, but there was no time for respite. The ground began to heave. A cataclysmic tremor rocked the sanctuary grounds.
The earth split open like a hungry maw. From the jagged fissures, dark angels bathed in volcanic fire emerged like boiling water, forming a fresh and terrifying front.
"Impossible... How did they achieve a Second Birth so soon?" Saruel growled, struggling through his pain. "My Lord, I don't understand it either. Hold onto my shoulder!" Kaduel replied, pulling his leader back as the remaining warriors of light formed a defensive wall, bracing their shields and swords against the screaming tide of shadow.
Just as the enemy approached, they suddenly halted, falling into a rigid formation that stretched to the very walls of the cathedral. A heavy silence fell over the warriors of light, replaced by a cold, creeping dread.
Kaduel supported the weakened Saruel as they approached the mounted guardians encircling the church. The leader of the horsemen—the God of the Beast Tribe—descended from his steed with somber grace. His face was darkened by grief and exhaustion. "I do not believe we can hold them like this," the Beast God said, his voice trembling. "Our strength is depleted, and most hauntingly, they are resurrecting. You must have seen it."
Saruel didn't answer immediately; his eyes were still spitting sparks of defiance as he looked at the commander. The Beast God stepped closer. "Forgive me, Saruel, but you know the truth. Unless the Twelve Tribes unite, we lack the power to tether this darkness."
The horseman reached out toward Saruel's broken wing. Unleashing a surge of divine radiance, he began a ritual of celestial mending. Flesh knitted, bone fused, and Saruel's agony was replaced by a rush of restored power. Reborn, Saruel spread both wings with sovereign pride and ascended into the air.
"Your words are true," Saruel declared, his voice now vibrating with renewed confidence, his eyes swirling with milky electricity. "We shall fight until the Twelve arrive. I will hold the line until then. But if they break through me... prepare yourselves for the final end."
Saruel descended and took his place at the vanguard of his army. Suddenly, the vast expanse between the two forces split asunder. The earth began to vomit columns of magma. Panic seized the ranks of light as a low, guttural rumbling shook the world.
Through the volcanic fire, a colossal entity emerged from the bowels of the earth, wielding a massive sword that pulsed with the heat of the core. The very air turned into an oven of infernal heat. As the dark angels shrieked in unholy joy, the warriors of light stood paralyzed in shock.
Dr. Toram's mouth hung open. To see a titan bathed in magma rise from the crust of the earth defied every scientific principle she knew; it was a scene of pure, dark fantasy. What law of physics or meta-physics could explain this?
This was the entity from the abyss. This was the Prince of Darkness: Daruel.
To be continued...