As soon as Arcaedus had sensed the connection between Wayte and Dmitri he had begun to move towards the battle. When he felt Draycott get wounded by the holy blade wielded by Dmitri, he had felt the darkness leaving Draycott. In fact, the darkness all around the battlefield had begun to dissipate. Arcaedus had blasted Draycott with a force of purpose and direction and he smiled wickedly as he felt the hate and darkness swell within the other man once more. The golden glow of Dmitri had flickered as Draycott had struck out at him, and as it struggled to sustain itself a golden glow had burst out from within Dmitri and burned brightly. It seemed that no matter what divine or demonic powers were at play here, the battle would be decided between two mortal men.

Both men circled each other warily, neither paying attention to the battle raging on around them. They both knew that any advantages given to them from their tainted or blessed blades was now gone; it really was a fight to the death. Draycott stepped in, bringing one blade down in a chopping motion. Dmitri brought up his sword to block the blow and a crackle of lightning ripped through the air. Draycott wasted no time and hammered his other blade down upon Dmitri’s raised sword, causing his defence to buckle. Draycott advanced and delivered a kick to Dmitri’s chest, sending him sprawling to the ground. He strode forward to finish the fallen man when Dmitri whipped up his sword. It bit deep into his inner thigh, severing the artery there. His energy pulsed from him and he fell to his knees and collapsed to the ground. Feebly, he rolled onto his back, trying to find Dmitri. A shadow fell over him and he tried to focus his eyes, but it was all too blurry. How could he be dying? Wasn’t he an all powerful demon? The form standing over him knelt down beside him.

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“You can rest now Edmund,” came the hollow voice.

Using the last ounce of his strength, he focused his eyes, it was the Arch-angel Uriel. Why was he here? Isn’t he the enemy?

“His control over you is weakening as you die. You are free of Akahaziel, die well,” said Uriel softly.

All around the battlefield, the clash of blades had stopped as the English appeared to have woken from a trance, looking around as if having no idea of where they were or what they were doing. Dmitri saw one man look at the sword in his hands, who saw the blood covering it and he dropped it, and falling to his knees, he began to weep.

An unearthly screech ripped through the air, and all around looked to the source of the noise. Arcaedus sat astride his horse, his open mouth was the source of the horrible noise. Arcaedus’ face seemed to ripple and distort, and then his entire body ripped asunder, revealing in all his fury; the Demon Akahaziel.