image [https://i.imgur.com/eY2gF5l.png]

"The ritual... it is not complete, it is not done!" Ifrit whispered urgently into Mila's ear, his voice barely audible amidst the chaos.

Mila nodded, determination etched on her face. "I am aware," she replied, her voice filled with resolve.

With unwavering focus, Mila raised her hands high into the air, continuing the intricate movements of her ritual. The ground quivered beneath them, responding to the immense power being channeled.

Serving as her guardians, the fire elementals stood tall and unwavering, their flames burning fiercely as they protected Mila. Meanwhile, Graybeard, exhausted yet determined, gasped for breath as he leaned heavily against his trusty axe.

Alpos, consumed by anger and a sense of betrayal, bellowed, "Cease this madness! Ifrit! Reveal yourself, you treacherous worm!"

In response, Ifrit's commanding voice echoed through the chamber, "Advance, my greater flames! Show this pretender the extent of our wrath!"

"Pretender is that it?" Questioned Alpos.

Obeying their master's orders, the flame elementals shifted into an offensive formation, their fiery presence intensifying.

Alpos, his voice seething with rage, commanded his elite guard, "Annihilate them all! Leave none standing!"

With a unified battle cry, Alpos's elite guard surged forward, their weapons gleaming in the dim light as they charged toward their flaming adversaries. The clash of steel against fire filled the room as the two forces collided in a desperate struggle for supremacy.

The clash between the two opposing forces erupted in a flurry of chaos and elemental power. The fire elementals unleashed a relentless barrage of scorching flame attacks upon Alpos's elite guard, who stood resolute at the forefront. Fortified by their exceptional armor and honed abilities, the elite soldiers skillfully deflected and neutralized the onslaught of flaming projectiles. However, their victory was short-lived, as new flaming elemental minions emerged from the remnants of the extinguished flames, replenishing their ranks.

Graybeard, weary yet determined, leaned on his trusty axe, his mind racing with thoughts of the path that lay before him. He observed the unfolding battle, contemplating his next move amidst the tumultuous clash of powers.

The convergence of energy beams intensified once more, signaling the imminent completion of a formidable spell. Alpos's forces, bolstered by the aid of newly risen undead, pressed forward, marching resolutely toward the heart of the chaotic fray, where the flaming elementals amassed.

With a relentless barrage of flaming attacks, the elemental minions unleashed their magical prowess, engulfing the undead in a maelstrom of scorching flames. The air filled with the acrid scent of burning flesh and smoldering remains, as a towering inferno surged skyward.

Observing his elite guard's struggle against the relentless assault, Alpos mumbled to himself, "I suppose I should intervene..."

A chill permeated the room as Alpos revealed his intent, causing concern to stir within Graybeard. The seasoned warrior's senses tingled. "I sense... despair..." Graybeard thought anxiously. "There's still a lingering sulfurous odor and a malevolence in the air..."

Alpos tightened his grip around a spear-like weapon, his grin directed at Ifrit and Mila. "I took the liberty of bringing this with me," he declared, his voice laced with a mix of arrogance and satisfaction. "A courtesy of the angels, leaving behind such a gift... Raguil's lance..."

The ritual abruptly halted as Ifrit's voice resonated through Mila's body, filled with disbelief and disdain. "No... How could someone as vile and powerless as you possess the weapon of an archangel?"

Alpos, wearing a sly grin, locked eyes with Ifrit. "It was through the blessings of our Lord, whom you so recklessly defy, that I obtained this weapon. A tool mighty enough to render you powerless. Raguil's Lance."

Ifrit expression shifted, a mixture of anger and uncertainty clouding his features. "You must be bluffing! Only an angel can wield such a weapon. It will scorch your very flesh if you dare use it in combat."

Alpos chuckled softly, a glint of malevolence in his eyes. Suddenly, behind him, a shimmering portal crackled with infernal energies, unveiling an unimaginable horror. It was a sight none of them were prepared for.

"Behold!" Alpos proclaimed, his voice echoing with triumph. "I present to you... Michael!.. or whatever's left of him..."

From the depths of the portal emerged an angel of darkness, exuding an aura of despair that sent shivers down to the bone. His presence cast a pall of darkness, and the room's temperature plummeted to freezing levels as a chilling shadow radiated from him.

Michael stood before them, his form a twisted reflection of the noble angels they once revered. His ethereal wings were tattered and charred, his eyes blazing with an otherworldly fire that seemed to devour hope itself. The room grew heavy with an oppressive silence, broken only by the sound of their pounding hearts.

"I must admit, it was no small feat to acquire him as well. Thanks to our Lord's triumph over such a formidable monster, he now stands broken and obedient to my every command... including using this lance to extinguish your existence."

"Foul creature!" Ifrit's voice thundered, filled with fury.

Graybeard, alarmed and unwilling to witness Mila's descent into darkness, reached out to her in an attempt to calm her raging spirit. However, he was forcefully tossed aside with a flick of her wrist, the impact launching him high into the air, leaving him disoriented from the powerful blow.

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"Stubborn dwarf! Stay out of my way!" Mila's voice, infused with Ifrit's essence, resonated with an eerie echo as raging flames began to consume her form.

"You have finally revealed your true nature," Alpos snarled in response. "So be it! Michael, deal with this infernal abomination!"

Upon hearing Alpos's commands, Michael seized the lance, his wings beating with an otherworldly grace as he charged toward the possessed Mila.

Ifrit, his voice dripping with cunning as he evaded Michael's attacks, interjected, "You are indeed cunning, but do not forget one thing! It was I who defeated you once before!"

with a flick of his wrist, Ifrit created greater fire elementals with a silent chant, giving rise to more minions for him to use.

"Enough with the minions! Focus your wrath on Ifrit!" Alpos commanded with conviction, his voice cutting through the chaos.

Michael, holding the lance in the name of evil without question, propelled himself forward with tremendous speed. However, as he advanced, he was relentlessly struck by the flames conjured by Ifrit's minions. The infernal fire engulfed Michael's armor, melting it away under the intense heat. Yet, undeterred, Michael pressed on, refusing to grant Mila even a moment of respite.

Ifrit, astonished by Michael's resilience, exclaimed, "How is this possible? Your armor... You endured those flames head-on?"

"With his mind shattered, do you truly believe a mere sensation of pain can halt him?"

Gritting his teeth in frustration, Ifrit summoned forth a blade of his own creation. The weapon, known as the Blade of Flames, was a mystical artifact crafted by the hands of his master, the Demon God, in ages long past. With this formidable blade in hand, Ifrit skillfully parried the relentless onslaught launched by Michael, effortlessly thwarting each strike.

Sensing the major gap within their powers, Ifrit taunted, his voice dripping with smug superiority, "Your obedient pet may possess great strength, but devoid of a conscious mind, its attacks are nothing but futile gestures!"

Disregarding Ifrit's taunts, Alpos confidently made his way toward the center of the chamber. The intensity of the battle between Michael and Ifrit had consumed their attention, providing Alpos with an opportunity to pursue his own agenda.

"It appears you have your hands full," Alpos remarked, a sly smile playing on his lips. "But this magic, it rightfully belongs to me..."

As Ifrit's attention shifted towards Alpos, he was suddenly caught off guard by a swift and unexpected maneuver. Michael, seizing the opportune moment, launched the lance towards Ifrit with incredible force. The weapon cut through the air like a comet, leaving a trail of swirling energy in its wake.

The sheer velocity of the lance caused a powerful gust of wind to surge through the chamber, disrupting the battle and scattering debris in its wake. Mila and Ifrit were forcefully propelled away from the center, their bodies carried by the turbulent current, their grip on the fight momentarily severed.

Graybeard, gradually regaining consciousness, found himself witnessing a grand battle unfolding before his eyes. Confusion mingled with his growing awareness as he tried to piece together the truth.

"You deceived the girl, didn't you?" Alpos spoke with amusement. "The seal, you broke it long ago..."

A sinister grin stretched across Ifrit's face as he retorted, "What are you babbling about? Explain yourself!"

"And what exactly did you promise her? Power? As if it were yours to give. You are nothing but a thief, a lowly creature who cowers behind your flames."

Ifrit, his rage ignited, retorted, "You are no different! You dare to judge me?"

Ignoring Ifrit's words, Alpos pressed on. "Tell me, how did you manage to break free from the seal that confined you within that jar?"

A momentary flicker of uncertainty crossed Ifrit's face, but he quickly regained his composure. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Don't feign ignorance with me," Alpos shot back, his voice filled with certainty. "You possess an intimate knowledge of these caverns, far beyond what I can fathom. Yet, you were trapped here for years? The truth is, you were never confined within that jar; you were sealed within this entire labyrinth... It was with my help that you were locked within this cavern in the first place, however, I did not understand the nature of the spell she cast on you until now."

"I WILL INCINERATE YOU AND THE WHORE WITCH!" Ifrit's fury erupted like an inferno, his rage engulfing the chamber.

Seeing the fury and rage within Ifrit and Mila as they struggled against Michael's powerful magical and physical attacks, filled Alpos with sadistic joy.

Graybeard, in that moment, finally comprehended the full extent of Alpos's words. A profound understanding washed over him, as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place.

"A fool... I have been a fool for placing my trust in a demon..." Graybeard muttered, his voice filled with regret.

Alpos, overhearing Graybeard's words, responded with a sharp retort. "Indeed, you were a fool, a fool to trust Ifrit at that, a lunatic, a child who doesn't understand the powers they are messing with."

While Ifrit remained focused on his fierce battle against the archangel, Graybeard and Alpos seized the opportunity to strategize.

"But perhaps there is something we can do."

"How can we defeat him?" Graybeard asked, his voice filled with desperation.

"You? Defeat him?" Questioned Alpos with a joking manner.

Seeing the resolve on Graybeard's face, Alpos smirked. "It's simple. We kill the host."

"Kill the host? Are you out of your mind? She will die if we do that!" Graybeard exclaimed, his disbelief evident.

Alpos paused for a moment, his expression turning contemplative. "There is no other way..."

"No other way?? No other way???? WHAT DO YOU MEAN?" Graybeard's voice rose with frustration and confusion.

Alpos sighed, realizing the weight of his words. "We cannot bring her back, not after Ifrit has taken control. The best that can happen for her is that her body will be transformed into a vessel for Ifrit's dark magic..."

Graybeard's gaze shifted to Mila, who fought relentlessly under the possession of Ifrit. Despair etched into his features as he absorbed Alpos's words.

"No... I won't stand by and watch her be consumed!" Graybeard's voice rang with determination, his eyes filled with an unwavering resolve.

Alpos, his twisted delight evident, responded with a sadistic grin. "By all means, go ahead. Try to stop Ifrit from destroying your precious friend. But know this, your efforts may be in vain."

With an unwavering determination, Graybeard charged forward, leaving Alpos behind in the center of the chaos.

As Alpos stood alone, a dark gleam sparked in his eyes. "Well, there is a way, but it would be too bothersome to tell you... Anyway... it appears that the ritual is nearly complete," he whispered, a sinister excitement lacing his words. "Once it's finished, I will gain untold powers... The world will tremble before me."

A surge of dark energy emanated from Alpos as he raised his hands into the air, commanding the very essence of darkness to heed his call. "WISPS OF DARKNESS, I AM ALPOS! DEMON GENERAL OF HELL! BOW DOWN BEFORE MY MIGHT! TREMBLE IN THE FACE OF MY UNLEASHED POWER!"