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

The forces of evil advanced towards the gate of the eastern sector, a crucial entry point leading into the city's civil district. However, their progress was impeded by a formidable challenge. Elven archers, positioned advantageously on higher ground, relentlessly showered the demons with a hail of arrows.

Undeterred, the demons pressed forward, erecting ladders against the walls. They faced an uphill battle, clashing against elite dwarven soldiers who expertly felled any demon unfortunate enough to cross their path. Alpos and Arbious observed from a distance, witnessing the resounding failure of their forces in the face of this opposition. Despite their formidable armor, the enemy's devastating magical spells had decimated them with ease.

Witnessing the relentless onslaught and the ramp leading up to the gatehouse now littered with the corpses of fallen demons, Arbious watched as Alpos issued the command to stand down, awaiting further instructions. Despite Arbious having managed to dismantle the enemy's magical tower, which served as the source of their destructive spells, it had not been enough. It was clear that they demons were severely outmatched.

"If victory eludes us in this manner, then we shall lay siege upon them or starve them into submission, whichever comes first. Let them cower behind their feeble walls, for it shall become their tomb," Arbious declared, devising a new strategy. "Order the infernal juggernauts to unleash their full firepower upon Tasildor, deploying every last ammunition we possess."

"But, my lord, the Tree of Life will nullify our hellish flames," Alpos interjected, voicing his concern.

"Indeed, but it shall weaken the tree, and that is the opening we require. As the tree's energies wane, the elves will inevitably suffer the consequences, as their magic relies heavily upon its power," Arbious explained, seizing upon weakening the link in the elven defenses.

"Very well, my lord. I shall issue the order immediately," Alpos conceded, understanding the strategic value in Arbious's plan.

As Alpos turned to issue the command, Arbious's eye widened in awe at the breathtaking sight that unfolded before him. From the heavens above, a tear in the darkened clouds revealed the magnificent descent of four archangels, their celestial armor radiating with divine power, and their resplendent wings of light illuminating the battlefield with their heavenly presence.

The demons on the ground quivered in fear, instinctively cowering before the radiant light that bathed onto the battlefield. The elves, on the other hand, erupted in jubilation, cheering for the arrival of the archangels. Arbious had expended a substantial portion of his mana in wielding his God Magic, and the odds seemed stacked against them.

"My lord, should I order a retreat...?" Alpos hesitantly proposed, sensing the impending danger.

"No..." Arbious replied firmly, his resolve unyielding. "I shall not retreat! This city shall crumble beneath our might!"

Alpos's face brightened with a grin upon hearing Arbious's response. He swiftly relayed the command to the artillery squadron, summoning forth the devastating siege weapons of doom.

In an instant, Arbious propelled himself into the air with astonishing speed, his infernal demonic wings trailing black flames beneath him as he ascended to the skies. Gripping his sword tightly, he charged toward the archangels who had dispersed, each heading in a different direction.

Among the Archangels stood Uriel, the Angel of Knowledge, his presence emanating wisdom. Clad in armor that gleamed like molten gold, he wielded a tome of holy scripture, his eyes alight with the understanding of ages.

Beside him was Raziel, the Angel of Order, his attire woven with jadish threads bearing ancient runes of power. In his hand, he held a scepter that crackled with arcane energy, a testament to his mastery over maintaining balance.

Raguil, the Angel of Justice, stood with an air of confidence, his lance held ready for righteous battle. His armor, lighter than most, allowed for swift movements, enabling him to outmaneuver his foes in the pursuit of justice.

Lastly, there was Anauel, the Angel of Unity, a beacon of harmony among his brethren. Eschewing traditional weapons, he wielded the magic of unity, bringing together the hearts and minds of all who crossed his path. As a messenger, he traversed realms, spreading the message of unity and peace.

Arbious came to a halt, watching intently as the four heavenly beings positioned themselves around him, maintaining a safe distance. "To think the heavens above would be so foolish as to send seekers of knowledge onto the battlefield. Has the loss of your beloved Michael left you with such desperation?" Arbious taunted, seeking to undermine their resolve with pointed words.

Observing their unified presence, Arbious decided to activate his ability to shift his demonic eye into his demonic head, enabling him to convey more than just messages. With his demonic countenance adorned with a devilish grin, he aimed to provoke them further, striking at their pride.

"And how does your father fare?" Arbious inquired with a malevolent smile, aiming to inflict a wound upon their collective pride.

Infusing his words with intentional provocation, Raguil swiftly responded, charging towards Arbious with his holy lance—a divine weapon bestowed upon him by God himself, capable of inflicting amplified damage upon demonic entities.

In response, Arbious brandished his sword of darkness and swung it through the air, tearing the very fabric of the universe apart. A rift in space emerged, unleashing void like tentacles that surged towards Raguil, seeking to ensnare him in their grasp.

Seeing this and quick to act, Raziel swiftly chanted, "Maximize magic, Reality Fix!" Closing the tear in space, he nullified the threat of the void tentacles. Undeterred, Raguil continued his relentless assault, thrusting his spear towards Arbious with unwavering determination.

Evading each of his attacks with precision, Arbious assessed the situation. With approximately 5 million mana remaining, he held a slight advantage in terms of available power compared to the archangels, who possessed around a million mana each. However, they were capable of casting spells four times faster than him, placing him at a disadvantage in terms of speed.

Arbious taunted Raguil, intentionally seeking to provoke him further. "I seem to have forgotten to send flowers to your beloved father. Please convey my regards to him," he uttered, gripping Raguil's lance while transforming into a shroud of profound darkness, enveloping Raguil within his shadowy embrace.

In response, Uniel invoked, "Heaven's Light Illuminate!" Summoning a radiant beam of light that cascaded down upon Raguil, creating a temporary impasse in their conflict.

Emerging once again from the shadows, resuming his divine form, Arbious found Anauel stepping forward as their appointed messenger. "Ah, the negotiator," Arbious muttered, gesturing disinterest with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"Put an end to this madness," Anauel pleaded. "Withdraw your forces, return to the depths of darkness from whence you came, you pitiful excuse for a God."

Arbious narrowed his eyes, his patience waning. "Watch your tone... You're starting to sound like... a DEMON!"

With a swift motion, Arbious summoned his tenth-tier magic, the Judgment of Hell, unleashing its devastating power upon the battlefield.

image [https://i.imgur.com/7fgH3qs.png]

10th Tier Magic: Judgment of Hell

Effects: Unleashing the cataclysmic power of this spell, all creatures aligned with the forces of light are subjected to devastating debuffs. Designed to specifically target enemies of positive alignment, its potency intensifies in direct proportion to the purity of their essence. As the malevolent eyes of the Lord of Damnation, the God of Hell, penetrate the very depths of their souls, victims find themselves ensnared within his unholy embrace. The relentless scrutiny of these sinister eyes drives them to the brink of insanity, relentlessly tormenting them until they inevitably succumb to the inescapable clutches of eternal damnation.

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Requirements: God of Hell Title, Lord of Damnation Title, Mastery of Dark Arts.

Mana Cost: 0

Info: This spell is a passive spell that recharges once a day, due to the nature of the spell, it can rival even God Tier Magic, with it being one of the highest damage output spells in the known universe.

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

The suffocating darkness engulfed the four Archangels, their divine forms cloaked in the sinister gaze of the eyes of hell as they faced their impending judgment. Aware of the temporary nature of this entrapment, Arbious understood that it would require a tremendous expenditure of their mana to break free.

Seizing the opportunity presented by their weakened state, Arbious firmly grasped his sword. Witnessing his opponents struggling to maintain their composure as despair permeated their very essence, he swiftly advanced towards Raguil. With a precise strike, his blade cleaved through Raguil's armor and flesh, the darkness imbued within the sword transferring itself to the wound.

Raziel, recognizing the direness pf situation, began a chant, beseeching the Tree of Tasildor to grant them aid. As his incantation resonated, the essence of the tree, serving as a conduit, was gradually drained to fuel his spell. The majestic tree weakened visibly as its magical energies flowed into Anauel, infusing him with its radiance. Empowered by the tree's essence, Anauel raised his hand. "Light of the heavens, unveil this darkness that eludes us!"

In response to his plea, a brilliant divine light cascaded from above, dispelling the shadows that had ensnared the Archangels. Swiftly, Arbious retreated beyond the reach of the illuminating rays, once again shrouding himself within the protective embrace of darkness as the light parted around him.

Anauel, concerned for Raguil's well-being, inquired, "Are you alright, Raguil?"

"I'm fine..." came his response, though his voice bore hints of lingering unease.

"Ah, such delicate sensibilities," Arbious taunted, reveling in the angels' outraged reaction. "Perhaps you should consider the human tradition of marriage to solidify your affection for one another."

"Blasphemy!" Raguil exclaimed, his voice laced with indignation.

Arbious's attention shifted to Uriel, who had remained silent throughout the exchange. Unbeknownst to his comrades, he had been discreetly sending encoded magical signals to heaven, meticulously reporting every detail of their confrontation. As the angel of knowledge, Uriel possessed formidable abilities in deception and manipulation, making him a potential adversary to be reckoned with. It occurred to Arbious that he could have easily thrived as a demon.

With a surge of determination, Raguil firmly gripped his lance, its radiant energy pulsating. Yet, in a moment of realization, his arm involuntarily dropped, weakened by the darkness that had seeped into his wound, now taking shape. "Raguil, your chest!" Anauel cried out, alarmed by the unforeseen turn of events.

Wasting no time, Arbious seized the opportunity and launched his attack, fully capitalizing on their momentary vulnerability.

With unyielding ferocity, he launched himself towards Raguil, targeting his weakened state. Each strike of his blade carried the weight of his infernal wrath, driving Raguil further back with every blow. Raguil valiantly blocked the first three attacks with his lance, but Arbious pressed on relentlessly, assaulting him from all sides.

"Hell Flames!" Arbious bellowed, summoning the scorching fires of the underworld into his palm. The flames surged forward, aimed at Raguil, but he evaded them all with nimble movements.

Seizing the momentary distraction, Arbious swiftly brought his blade down upon him once again. Simultaneously, the razor-sharp ends of his demonic wings pierced through Raguil's chest, causing divine blood to spill from the wounds. Yet, despite the severity of his injuries, the light in Raguil's eyes remained undimmed as he defiantly clutched onto Arbious's blade.

"If I'm going down, I'm taking you with me!" Raguil yelled, his eyes exuding ferocity.

In that critical moment, Arbious heard the faint chants of the remaining archangels, signaling a desperate plan. Instinctively, he attempted to escape from Raguil's grip, but his tenacity was unyielding, his hold unbreakable. "Hurry... I can't hold him for much longer!"

With time slipping away, a surge of desperation consumed Arbious. Abandoning the conventional approach, he extended his wings, slowly and forcefully pulling them apart, with the intention of tearing Raguil's body asunder. The darkness within him spread at an accelerated pace, fueled by his waning powers and the relentless forces of damnation.

As the heavenly light engulfed Arbious, searing pain coursed through his divine form. Unable to withstand its intensity, he reluctantly released his grip on Raguil's body, allowing it to descend to the ground below.

In response, Arbious swiftly chanted an unholy shield, a barrier of dark magic that consumed a staggering amount of mana to protect himself from the relentless onslaught of the holy light. The shield held strong, preserving his existence against the divine assault. Meanwhile, Anauel descended from above, reaching out to grasp Raguil's fallen form.

Now, with only Raziel and Uriel remaining, Arbious shifted his attention to the two remaining archangels. "Surely you didn't come here just to bear witness," he taunted, a hint of amusement lacing his voice.

At long last, Uriel broke his silence and spoke. "Return Michael to us. That is all we ask," he stated firmly.

A smirk tugged at the corner of Arbious's lips, finding their request both amusing and intriguing. "Return him? What makes you so certain he is even alive?" he retorted, a glimmer of mischief dancing in his eyes.

Uriel's response carried a mixture of determination and unwavering faith. "You wouldn't be so merciful as to end his life. Return him to us, under your divine name, and we shall depart from this place."

His words hung in the air, accompanied by an unspoken ultimatum. Arbious's mind raced, contemplating their proposition and the potential consequences of defiance. "And if I refuse?" he questioned, his voice laced with a hint of defiance.

Uriel's response was resolute and unwavering, brimming with conviction. "Then the full might of the heavens shall descend upon you. The Sword of God, and all the archangels and their loyal followers, shall unleash their power to smite you here and now."

Arbious considered his options, weighing the consequences of his decision. "And you would just abandon Tasildor? The elves?" he questioned, disbelief evident in his voice. "Are you willing to turn your backs on them in their time of need?"

Uriel, with his accumulated power over the years as the representative of heaven, acted as their spokesperson in their exchange. "Tasildor has proven itself a failure, as have the elves. Their fate now rests in their own hands. My duty is to protect my fellow angels, and we will refrain from engaging in battle if you cease your spellcasting and return Michael."

A chuckle escaped Arbious's lips as he responded with the one thing Uriel would not expect given the situation. "I refuse," he declared boldly.

Uriel's eyes widened in disbelief at Arbious's response.

"But why?" he exclaimed, his confidence shaken. Arbious, being a logical being, knew that a direct counter to Uriel's reasoning required an illogical response to undermine his resolve.

With a sinister grin, Arbious provided his answer, relishing in the disturbance it caused within Uriel.

"Your beloved Michael suffers in the depths of hell, destined to remain for all eternity. As the darkness that will soon consume the tree, so shall he be consumed by that very darkness. If you wish to spare him from death, you will withdraw. I will not return him, but I can guarantee his survival. Should you bring forth your angels, it will be a massacre. I will relish in wiping out as many of you as I can, and even if I fall, my spirit will return to hell, regaining its powers."

Arbious's words hung in the air, a challenge and a provocation to their moral compass. The weight of their decision rested upon their shoulders, knowing the consequences of either choice.

Clenching his fists tightly, Uriel's resolve wavered, and he turned to Raziel, seeking guidance and support. The two exchanged a solemn look, their unspoken communication carrying the weight of their decision.

"So, what will it be?" Arbious taunted, reveling in his momentary triumph. "Shall I issue the command to end Michael's life?"

Uriel, his eyes filled with conflict, reluctantly released his grip on the sacred book he held. He had succumbed to Arbious's terms, his sense of duty and loyalty overpowering any personal desires. "Don't... Don't kill him," he muttered, his voice strained with a mixture of resignation.

Without another word, Uriel and Raziel began chanting a powerful teleportation spell, their figures gradually dissolving into ethereal energy. In an instant, they vanished, leaving Arbious standing alone on the battlefield, his victory tinged with a bittersweet taste.

Arbious surveyed the aftermath, taking in the sight of the fallen and the remnants of their fierce battle. The city of Tasildor still stood defiantly, though weakened and battered. The elves and their defenders had withstood their onslaught, however, with the absence of the archangels, it was time to assess his next move.

The relentless bombardment of Tasildor continued unabated, the deafening explosions echoing through the air as the city's protective shield strained under the assault. The shimmering barrier that once stood strong now showed signs of weakness, cracks spreading like spiderwebs across its surface. The elven defenders, once filled with jubilant resolve, now succumbed to despair as their hope dwindled in the face of overwhelming destruction. It was in their expressions of anguish and hopelessness that a wicked fire ignited within Arbious, a surge of dark energy coursing through his veins.

With an authoritative presence, Arbious descended from the sky, his form exuding a palpable aura of malevolence. The demons, once scattered and disorganized, turned their attention to him, awaiting anxiously for their next command.